Brew or Die

by Caroline Fardig

  “I bet your boyfriend could make it happen.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want John to know about this. It could make things uncomfortable for him at work.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You’re going to keep this from him?”

  “What good would it do to tell him? None. He’d get mad and go start something with Ryder. They already can’t stand each other. Why make it worse and put myself in the middle of it?”

  “I’d want to know.”

  “You do know.”

  “I mean if I were your boyfriend, I’d want to know.”

  “Well, you’re not my boyfriend, so…” I didn’t quite know where I was going with that statement, so I trailed off.

  Something flashed in Pete’s eyes, but it was gone quickly and replaced with a smile. “Right. I’m the supportive best friend, so he won’t hear it from me.”

  Chapter 5

  After the lunch rush, I headed over to meet with Maya at her office, which wasn’t an ultra-sleek spy headquarters, as I’d half expected before visiting it for the first time. It was simply a small space she rented in one of the many office complexes on the south end of Twenty-First Avenue, which was not terribly far from Java Jive.

  Maya looked up from her computer with a smile when I walked through the door. She held out an envelope to me. “A peace offering after the inadvertent ambush I set up on you Saturday night. I’m pretty sure you’ll forget all about it when you take a look at this check.”

  Accepting the envelope from her, I sat down in the chair across from her desk and began tearing open the flap. “There better be a bunch of zeroes on this if you think I’m going to forget that you were the one who called Ryder—” My jaw dropped when I saw a personal check from Mrs. Kixmiller, which had three zeroes, plus a nice-sized payroll check from Maya. “Holy shit.”

  “I told you so. Mrs. Kixmiller wanted me to express to you how much she appreciates you saving her husband’s life. So much so, she included a bonus for you in her payment for our services.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “She gave me a bonus for helping the guy she’s trying to divorce? She hired us to find enough dirt to screw him out of their pre-nup. I think it would have been more lucrative from her perspective had I let him bleed out in the yard.”

  “My, aren’t we morbid this afternoon? No, actually, when Kixmiller got to the hospital, he had a heart attack, and they nearly lost him. After his near death experience, he decided to quit shagging everything in a skirt, and his missus decided she couldn’t live without him. Another win for true love, I suppose.”

  “True love…right.”

  She slid a file folder across the desk to me. “And with that, it’s on to our next case, which is decidedly less disgusting. Wonder-Gen Fabricators. One business partner is funneling cash into the business like mad, but the other partner has no idea where he’s getting it and is afraid to ask. We’re to find proof of where the money is coming from so our client can decide if he needs to hand his partner over to the authorities. Loads of research, a little surveillance. Easy peasy. Get yourself acquainted with the file, and then Google away. You know what to do.”

  I smiled. I actually did know what to do, and although I was itching to get started, it would have to wait. “Time frame on this? John’s finally off tonight, so I thought I’d take him out to a nice dinner with my blood money. I may not get to start my research until tomorrow.”

  “Our client thinks it’s been happening off and on for a month or more, so it’s not terribly time-sensitive. Plus, with me being out of the country all next week, I told him we’d need extra time to wrap everything up, especially since you’ll be working alone.”

  Maya’s sister had just had a baby, so she was leaving on Sunday morning to head to England for a week to help her out. Maya didn’t strike me as a baby person, but she was more excited about this trip than I’d ever seen her.

  I asked uneasily, “Are you sure you trust me to work on the case by myself while you’re gone?”

  “Nothing like a little baptism by fire. Now run along and have fun on your date.” As I got up to leave, she added, “And I truly am sorry about the Hamilton thing. I care very much about both of you, and I was trying to make sure you two had some closure, but instead I cocked up everything.”

  Shrugging, I said, “We would have run into each other at some point. Now it’s really over.”

  She smiled and nodded, but something in her expression seemed unconvinced.

  —

  A few minutes before six, I removed my apron and started to head to the office to pick up my purse so I could go home and get ready for my date. But when I saw a familiar face at the door, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  Detective Cromwell, Ryder’s former partner from MNPD Homicide, was coming straight for me with a stern expression on his face. That was never a good sign.

  “Ms. Langley,” he said, betraying no emotion.

  “Hello, Detective,” I replied warily.

  “I need to speak with Shane Emerson in private. Think you could make that happen for me?”

  My stomach clenched. “Um…sure.”

  I hurried back to the office and said to Pete, “Hey, can you vacate the office for a while? We may have an issue here.”

  He looked up from the computer screen. “What’s up?”

  “Cromwell is here, and he wants to speak to Shane privately.”

  Pete’s eyes bugged out. “That’s not good.” He jumped up from his chair and followed me back to Cromwell.

  I said, “Our office is yours, Detective. You’ll find Shane in the kitchen.”

  “Thank you.” He clapped Pete on the shoulder as he walked past him. “Keeping your nose clean, Mr. Bennett?”

  “Yeah,” Pete replied tightly.

  Cromwell had been the lead investigator on Cecilia’s murder case, and had been the one who’d mistakenly arrested Pete for the crime. It was all water under the bridge now, but I was pretty sure Pete didn’t appreciate him joking about it.

  Trying to redirect Pete’s thoughts, I said, “What could Cromwell want with Shane?”

  Pete frowned. “Well, nothing positive, that’s for sure. Shane’s either a suspect, a witness, or knows a victim.”

  We stood in silence, staring down the hallway for a few minutes, not knowing what else to do. I couldn’t leave without my purse, which was still in the office—not that I wanted to leave before I found out why Cromwell was here.

  Shortly after, the door opened, and Cromwell came out, frown still firmly in place. However, when he got to us, his face softened. “You two might want to go talk to the kid.” Nodding at Pete, he said, “Especially you.”

  Pete’s eyes widened. “Why? What’s up?”

  “His fiancée was found dead.” Without another word, Cromwell brushed past us and out the front door of the coffeehouse.

  Pete and I stared at each other for a moment, dumbfounded.

  He shook his head, as if to clear it. “Poor guy. Nothing we say is going to make a damn bit of difference, but we have to try. Come on.” He put his arm around my shoulders and guided me back to the office with him. Knocking tentatively, he called, “Shane, can we come in?”

  There was no response, which didn’t particularly surprise me. Pete opened the door to find Shane sitting on the edge of the couch, head in his hands, sobbing. My heart wrenched seeing him like this. Shane was pretty even-tempered, never showing much emotion aside from rolling his eyes at the antics of his fellow staff members. Unlike the rest of us, he never brought his problems to work, so we didn’t know him that well or know a whole lot about him. We’d met his pretty fiancée, Josie, a few times, but she wasn’t a permanent fixture like Stafford or my new barista Sophie’s boyfriend. I was at a loss for where to begin to try to console Shane.

  Pete had known Shane much longer, so I let him take the lead. “Hey, Shane, we’re so sorry about Josie,” he said quietly as we went into the office and closed the door behind us.

  S
hane didn’t look up. He was quiet, but his shoulders continued to shake as he cried.

  Pete flicked his troubled eyes at me. “I…um…I know how painful this is, and how painful it’s going to continue to be. If there’s anything we can do for you, all you have to do is say the word.”

  “Take all the time you need, okay?” I said. When Shane didn’t respond, I added, “Would you like one of us to drive you home?”

  “No,” Shane snapped, pushing himself up from the couch and barreling toward us.

  Pete and I jumped out of his way as he raged past us and out the door.

  Sighing, Pete said, “I’ll give him a call later. Man, I hate that he has to go through this. Josie was so young—she was only, what, twenty-four?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Makes you realize how short life really is.” He took my hand and smiled, but then his expression clouded over. He cleared his throat and dropped my hand. “Hey, don’t you have a date to go get ready for?”

  I let out a long breath. “Yeah, but maybe I should call John and reschedule. We’ll be shorthanded here tonight, and—”

  “And nothing. Go out and have fun. I’ll cover Shane’s shift.”

  “You have payroll to do.”

  Shrugging, he said, “It’ll still be there after closing time.”

  “And you’ll be exhausted. I’m staying.”

  Rolling his eyes, he opened a desk drawer and retrieved my purse. He shoved it into my hands. “Nope. You’re leaving, and that’s an order.”

  I gave him a mock glare. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

  “Wanna bet? I’ll even pick you up and throw you out the door if I have to.” He broke into a grin. “Come on, get out of here. Go hang out with Stafford. It’s not often I approve of your boyfriends, so you should take this while you can get it.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “I have to admit, he’s good for you. You’re way more mellow and grounded. I haven’t seen Redheaded She-Devil in weeks.”

  Obviously he wasn’t present when I nearly got arrested or when I had my confrontation with Ryder. But he was right—I had successfully controlled my temper (the Redheaded She-Devil side of me) for the most part ever since I’d started seeing Stafford. His general laid-back demeanor was definitely a calming influence on me.

  Smiling, I said, “You’re right. He is good for me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  —

  I had to rush to shower and style my mane of marginally cooperative hair in time to be ready when Stafford got to my apartment. Something Pete had said earlier about life being short had been bouncing around in my head the whole time I was getting dressed. Life really was short, so that meant you had to take happiness where you could find it. If even the Kixmillers could figure that out, there had to be hope for the rest of us.

  There was a knock at my door. When I answered it, Stafford was there, dressed handsomely in a dark suit and tie and smiling down at me. Suddenly, the decision I’d been wrestling with for a while became crystal clear.

  “Hey, you look beautiful,” he said, kissing me on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

  I shook my head. “No. Change of plans.”

  “Oh.” He shrugged. “Well, I’m up for anything.”

  “That’s what I was hoping,” I replied, taking his hand and leading him down the hallway to my bedroom.

  When I closed the door behind us, he gave me a questioning look. “Are you wanting to, uh…” As he trailed off, he flicked his eyes toward the bed and began blushing.

  I nodded, walking over to him and snaking my arms into his jacket and around his waist. “Is that okay with you?”

  He let out a little chuckle and turned a brighter shade of red. “Yeah, of course, but I didn’t think you were ready.”

  If I were being honest, I’d been holding Stafford at arm’s length the entire time we’d been dating, and I didn’t know why. I always felt happy and at home with him, like I’d known him forever. There was no good reason why I’d been putting off being a little more intimate with him, physically or emotionally.

  “I’m ready,” I replied, sliding my hands up his chest and around the back of his neck to pull him down into a kiss.

  He wrapped his arms around me, pressing me to him as our kiss deepened. I peeled his jacket off his shoulders and tossed it aside. His hands moved tentatively to the top of my zipper on the back of my dress.

  Pulling back for a moment, he looked me in the eye and asked, “You’re sure?”

  “Get on with it, John. We’ve waited long enough.”

  Smiling, he replied, “Yes, ma’am.”

  —

  I snuggled closer in John’s arms, farther into the warmth of his body.

  He nuzzled my ear. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought on this sudden urge to take our relationship to the next level?”

  I sighed. “You know Shane Emerson?”

  “Yes. Where exactly does he factor into our sex life?”

  I smiled at his joke, but became serious as I replied, “He got some bad news today. Cromwell came into Java Jive to tell him in person that his fiancée was found dead.”

  “That’s awful. I feel for the guy.”

  “Me, too. Then Pete made a comment about life being so short, which got me to thinking about us. I know I haven’t jumped into this thing with both feet, but it was only because I was worried about getting hurt. And you’ve been so understanding of that.” I turned so I could face him. “When I finally gave it some actual thought, I realized…You make me happy, John.”

  His face broke into the sweetest smile. “You make me happy, too.” Placing his hand on the back of my head, he gently drew me into a kiss.

  When we pulled apart, I joked, “Plus Maya told me the cheater Kixmiller and his wife decided to give their marriage another try. I figured if those two could make a relationship work, anyone could.”

  “Wow. That’s a real vote of confidence for us.”

  “Your positive attitude is rubbing off on me.”

  He squinted at me. “Maybe, but I think you still have some work to do.”

  Chapter 6

  The next morning, I woke up ready to take on the world. Stafford had left to go home but had promised to come see me at the coffeehouse for lunch, which I was very much looking forward to. Even though it was my morning-shift barista Camille’s job to come in early and make the pastries today, I texted her to let her know I would cover it this morning. I was already up, and I had some energy to burn off, anyway.

  Pete came in later, wordlessly snagging me by the arm and pulling me to the office with him.

  “Good morning to you, too,” I said as he closed the door behind us.

  His face was serious. “Jules, sit down.”

  I sat on the couch, and he dropped down heavily next to me. I asked warily, “What’s up?”

  Wiping a hand down his face, he replied, “I talked to Shane last night.”

  “Is he doing any better?”

  Pete shook his head. “Not even a little. Cromwell told him Josie OD’ed.”

  Letting out a sigh, I closed my eyes. “Oh, no. How awful.”

  “Yeah. I can’t imagine. Evidently she was found at her desk, dead, with a needle sticking out of her arm and heroin paraphernalia everywhere.”

  “Heroin? That’s insane. I never would have pegged her for a user.” Josie was a sweet girl, plus she was smart, well put-together, and cute as a button. Track marks would have been the wrong kind of accessory for the stylish clothing she always wore.

  “That’s Shane’s problem with the whole thing. He said she didn’t take drugs, and wouldn’t have considered it. She didn’t even drink.”

  “And now suddenly she’s shooting heroin in the middle of the day at work? Yeah, I’d see a problem with that, too. I’m sure Cromwell is on it, though.”

  He frowned. “Not according to Shane. He thinks there’s much more going on than a straight OD. He’s convinced
she was murdered.”

  “Has he talked to Cromwell about it and voiced his concern?”

  Pete shrugged. “I don’t know. What I do know is that he wants to discuss it with us this afternoon.”

  “Why us?”

  “You know why.”

  I snorted. “I realize it’s pretty widely known around here that when Cromwell doesn’t run an investigation the way you or I want him to, we tend to step in the way. But I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.”

  Pete’s eyebrows shot up. “The brand-new PI doesn’t want someone to hand her a case?”

  “Not a possible murder case. It’s not what I do.”

  “The guy from your last case nearly got murdered in front of you. How is this different?”

  “One, because the police are already investigating this one. Two, because I have zero access to any evidence or information from the case and no way to get it. I could go bang my head against that wall over there and get the same effect as trying to work this case.”

  Pete fidgeted in his seat, bouncing his leg up and down. “I kind of already told Shane we’d help him.”

  Shocked, I stared at him for a good minute before I said, “You, the one person who’s hell-bent on me not being a PI—or diving headlong into mayhem and the ‘underbelly of society,’ your words—volunteered me to investigate a supposed murder?”

  “Not just you. Us.”

  “Pete…” I had no words. I shook my head.

  “We’ve done it more than once before, all by ourselves. It turned out well.”

  “For you, maybe.” I stuck my arm out so the scar on my forearm was an inch from his nose. “A crazy person cut me, and that was the least violent thing that happened to me.”

  Pushing my arm away, he fired back, “And yet you still made the decision to pursue investigative work.”

  I knew exactly what he was doing. After being friends for so long, we could easily push each other’s buttons if we chose to do so. I could tell he wanted me to get agitated, and while I wasn’t thinking straight, he would argue his way into convincing me to get mixed up in this cluster. Normally, it was quite an effective tool to use on me. However, the newly calmer me wasn’t going to fall for it.