Pint of No Return

by L. M. Fortin

  That reminded Callie of her new idea about the glassware. “How angry do you think he will be if I had to change the tasting glasses at Bru-topia?” She explained the shipping problems and her possible solution.

  “As long as it doesn’t cost him more money and he still has his logo on them, I can’t imagine he’ll even notice,” said Walt. “Especially with his dad passing away. I know Magic Waters will still have a booth, but I don’t know if Ethan even plans on attending.”

  She nodded in relief. They spent a few more minutes going over the details of the event.

  Callie sat in her car a moment after Walt left, organizing her notes. She was startled out of her concentration when someone knocked on the window of her car. It was Scott.

  She got out. “What are you doing here? I thought you left a half hour ago.” His dark hair was messy as usual. He had taken off his suit jacket and was only in his collared shirt and slacks.

  “I didn’t know the next chance I’d have to talk to you,” Scott said.

  She fumed to herself silently. He could arrange to talk to her any time he wanted if he’d pick up the phone and call. “I’m sorry to make you wait. What’s up?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure how to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. I wanted to apologize for what happened between us.”

  She felt relief, thinking he was apologizing for not calling her. “No apology is necessary. Sometimes life moves along faster than we can keep up with.”

  “I know. Since Audrey, I haven’t been dating much and it was good to be with someone who was familiar and reminded me of the good times.”

  She realized he wasn’t apologizing for not calling her, but instead for what went on that night. He didn’t hear the underlying growl in her voice. “You’re telling me you kissed me because I reminded you of Audrey?”

  “Yes,” he said and then rapidly backtracked. “Yes and no. I mean, you don’t remind me of her specifically, but of a time when my life was different. A better time.”

  “A time when the jocks ruled the school and you could make fun of all of us who weren’t with the in crowd, right? I never imagined you were still a practicing member of the panty patrol,” she said, referring to the game the high school jocks played in trying to kiss as many girls at they could, while keeping score.

  “No, that’s not it,” he said, stung. “I never took part in any of that. Life was just less complicated then.”

  “For some of you,” she said, “not necessarily the rest of us. And just because you didn’t actually do the deed, doesn’t mean you didn’t sit back and laugh when every other guy in your circle did it.”

  “Look, I don’t think there’s any need to dredge up ancient history. We were very different in high school,” he said. “After you and I spent the evening together I realized that I don’t want to go back to all of that. I need to move on. So I wanted to apologize for taking advantage of the situation.”

  She almost slapped him. “You think I let you take advantage of me? Running a brew fest for free… that’s taking advantage! Volunteering to run an old friend’s wedding without charge… that’s taking advantage. Why I wanted to start a relationship with you is now certainly a mystery to me, but at the time I thought I knew what I was doing and you certainly didn’t take advantage of me.”

  She realized as the words came out of her mouth, he didn’t know. “What old friend?” he questioned demandingly. “Are you telling me you’re running Audrey’s wedding? I knew she and that dental fruit were dating, but I wasn’t aware they’d gotten engaged. Did you think you might let me know?”

  She tried to regain control of the conversation. “She didn’t call me until after our date. If you remember, you’ve been actively avoiding speaking to me since then. It’s not as if I’d text something of that nature to you. There are also many other people in town who might have told you.”

  “And you agreed to run it?” he asked heatedly.

  “Why on earth wouldn’t I? It’s what I do! She was a good friend, even if that was a long time ago. If your excuse for kissing me is that it was for old times’ sake, I can certainly say the same thing about arranging her wedding.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, obviously frustrated and for a moment she felt a passing sensation of sympathy for him. Watching his ex-wife remarry would not be easy. Skinner was a small town and he’d never escape from hearing other people talk about it.

  “Scott, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear about it this way. I can’t back out of it now though, and I wouldn’t even if you asked me to. Audrey was everything to me in high school. It’s not something I could have refused, no matter what was going on between you and me.”

  He looked at her, pain in his eyes. “I just wish things hadn’t gone wrong between me and Audrey.”

  “I know,” she said. “You’ll just have to make the best of it.” She tried to make a joke. “You need to stop hanging out with Audrey’s leftovers,” she said quietly.

  “Callie, I have never, and will never, think of you like that,” he said. He stepped forward and kissed her softly on the lips. “I take it back. I’m not apologizing for kissing you after all.”

  He turned away and walked to his car and she was left staring at him bemusedly.

  Chapter Ten

  Her mom was out in the barn and Callie could hear Grandma Minnie moving around upstairs. Callie left a short note for them in the kitchen under the coffeemaker, as she was planning to be back by noon.

  She had to break into one of her boxes of shoes to find her hiking boots. Denim cut-offs, a faded blue t-shirt and her favorite old Johnson and Wales college sweatshirt to keep off the morning chill. She had pulled her auburn hair back into a pony tail to keep it out of the way.

  Her backpack lay on the floor, ready with a few trail bars and a bottle of water. Of course, as she was a planner type, it also wouldn’t be complete without a whistle, compass, and a bit of rope.

  She tried to guess what sort of car Chris would drive. Undoubtedly, it would be attractive. She wondered if he went for the ecologically friendly or for the muscle car. From the deep thrumming she could hear coming up the driveway, she was betting on the latter.

  Closing the front door quietly behind her, Callie stepped out on to the porch to see Chris pulling up in a fire engine red Camaro convertible. He didn’t kill the engine, but got out of the car and came around to the passenger side to open the door for her. Again, Callie was taken by how attractive she thought he was. His black sweatshirt seemed tailored to showcase his broad shoulders and thin waist. His blue hiking shorts weren’t tight by any means, but the amount of tanned, muscular legs they featured made her blush.

  Chris kissed her on the cheek. “Ready to go?”

  Callie threw her backpack in the back seat next to Chris’s black one and nodded, not trusting her voice. She climbed in and he closed the door.

  “I hope you don’t mind the top down,” he said. “It can get a bit breezy. If you need one, there’s a baseball cap in the glove box.”

  Even though her hair was in a ponytail, she pulled out the cap anyway. “I bet you give these to all your lady friends just for the advertising,” she said as she pulled on the gold Sylvan Ales cap.

  He laughed, “Ah, you’ve discovered my notorious plan! Of course, that plan would work better if I had had more than one lady in my car this year.”

  She looked at him, puzzled. “Really? Does beer making not give you much time for dating?”

  Putting the car in gear, he began to move it slowly down the driveway. “Maybe it’s that I haven’t found many people I’d like to go out with,” he said, looking over at her and giving her a devastating smile.

  The smile caused her heart to beat faster. She tried to resist the attraction she felt. “I’m flattered, but not sure I believe that.”

  “Then I’ll spend time today trying to convince you.”

  They left the city and took I-5, heading towards the Dexter Re
servoir and Lowell. Callie was glad she had her sweatshirt on because the morning was a chilly one. Although the breeze was cool, she was glad the convertible’s top was down so she could stare straight up into the overhanging green trees once they hit Highway 58.

  They reached the campground where the trailhead was and parked. Grabbing her backpack, the cool air made her decide to leave her sweatshirt on for a while longer.

  Chris grabbed her hand as they walked. “We’re just going to go a few miles to Timber creek and double back,” he said. “Think you can handle that?”

  Her hand was burning where he touched her. She nodded. “Lead on.”

  Throughout the hike, she was extremely conscious of Chris and how close he was. Much like the tour of Sylvan Ales, he seemed to take every opportunity to touch her, helping her across a log in the trail or just standing close beside her when they stopped to take a drink of water.

  Although she was a native of the area, Callie had spent little time thinking about what trees and plants filled the forests she had hiked in as a kid. During their walk, Chris was constantly pointing out flora and fauna.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever spent time contemplating the difference between a lady fern and a sword fern,” said Callie.

  “We should come out here in the late spring. There are many flowers in bloom and lots of edible treats like wild strawberries,” he said. “The fall is nice just for the greenery.”

  Callie had to agree. Over the path, the tree cover was so heavy there was barely a glimpse of blue sky. The sun shone through the leaves, making them translucent and giving the entire forest a magical green glow. The color was so vibrant and it gave the impression that it was lit from within. Callie took a deep breath, taking in the damp scented air that seemed to embody the green color pouring down from the sky.

  When they reached Timber Creek, he gave her a quick, spontaneous kiss on the lips. “What was that for?” she asked, startled, pulling back a little.

  “Tradition. I always give a kiss at the half way point.”

  “Whose tradition?” she asked suspiciously although she hadn’t minded the kiss.

  “Mine. New traditions have to start somehow, you know,” he said, smiling at her.

  She leaned into him and returned the kiss. Two could play that game. “Sounds like a good one.”

  They hiked back to the parking lot and climbed into the Camaro. As Chris turned the key, Callie was once again taken with the deep thrumming sound of the engine. She seemed to feel it behind her ears at a subsonic level.

  “What are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked as the pulled back out onto Highway 58.

  “Nothing I can’t rearrange. What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “Well, I think you have a pretty good palate for a beer novice,” he said. “I have a new brew I’d like to try on you. We could have lunch at the brewery while we’re at it.”

  Callie thought for a moment. That sounded good to her, but she did feel a need to change clothes and check in with her mom and grandma. “My place first, so I can freshen up, and then it’s up to you.”

  “Agreed,” said Chris, his voice rumbling almost as low as the engine. They took the Beltline around towards Santa Clara and the exit to River Road.

  As they turned into the long driveway to Coral’s house, Callie saw an unmarked police car parked behind her mom’s truck.

  She furrowed her brow. “I wonder what’s up?”

  Before they had even gotten out of the car, the front door opened and out rushed her mom, Grandma Minnie, Noah, and Scott McMillan, followed by Hops.

  “Callie,” exclaimed Coral. “Are you all right?”

  “Of course I am,” she said. “What’s going on?” She was shocked out of her romantic daydreaming. What was Scott doing there? And why was Noah here on a Sunday?

  Grandma Minnie, a devilish light in her eyes, said, “Detective Scooter showed up about an hour ago looking for you.”

  Scott looked harried as he dragged his hand through his dark hair. “I tried to get a hold of you on your cell and just kept getting voicemail, so I thought I’d come and see if you were here. Your mom didn’t know where you were.”

  Callie looked at her mom first. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you. It was early when we left and I didn’t want to bother anyone, but I left a note under the coffeemaker. I planned on being back by noon, which it is now. We went hiking up by Salt Creek Falls. I knew my phone wouldn’t get reception there, so I just turned it off.”

  Grandma Minnie laughed. “As Noah wasn’t here this morning for coffee, I bet the note’s still there.”

  Everyone’s eyes went to Chris. “Mom, Grandma, Noah,” Callie purposely left out Scott, “this is Chris Ashton. He’s the owner of Sylvan Ales.” If he hadn’t come for coffee, Callie wondered why Noah was at the farm on a Sunday.

  Coral and Grandma Minnie nodded. “Chris, this is my mom Coral, my Grandma Minnie, our… umm…handyman Noah Buck, and Detective Scott McMillan with the Skinner Police Department.”

  “Ladies, Mr. Buck, Detective McMillan. I apologize if we worried you in any way,” said Chris in his low voice. He moved forward and shook hands with all of them. Hops growled. Callie looked at the dog in surprise. It was the first time she’d seen him react in dislike to anyone. Hops had warmed up to Grandma Minnie quickly after their first meeting.

  “Now that we’ve checked all those blocks,” said Callie, ignoring the growling dog, “once again, I ask, what on earth is this about?”

  Scott stepped up. “It’s police business. I need to speak with you about on ongoing investigation. Urgently.”

  Callie shook her head. Whatever was going on, she wasn’t going to be able to quietly scoot out for an afternoon with Chris. She turned to him. “Can we postpone our plans for another day?”

  Feeling self-conscious as everyone watched them, Chris grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. “It would be my pleasure. I will call you later,” he said, his eyes promising more, as only she could see them. Turning back towards the others he said, “I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I look forward to seeing you again,” he said before walking towards his car.

  Callie waited until he had pulled away and the thrumming engine had died in the distance. “Well?” Callie asked Scott.

  “Is there someplace we can go more private?” he asked, not looking at Coral, Noah, and Grandma Minnie.

  “We would probably be fine out here on the porch. Could you guys go inside? I’ll see what the detective needs so urgently.” She continued to wonder why Noah was visiting on his day off, but didn’t want to question her mom and grandma in front of Noah and Scott.

  Callie heard Grandma Minnie snort at that and knew her sarcasm had been recognized. The three of them went inside. Hops had stopped his growling and went to lay by Scott’s feet. Traitor, Callie thought.

  Callie stood, arms crossed, glaring at Scott.

  “You move on quickly,” he said angrily.

  “As far as I can tell from your actions, there’s no reason I shouldn’t move on. Seriously, you didn’t come here to accuse me of going hiking with someone, did you? I’m pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

  His anger fell away abruptly. “No. I want you to tell me something and you need to be completely honest about it.”

  She wasn’t ready to let her anger dissipate although the tension in his voice aroused her curiosity. “Unlike others I could name, I don’t find a need to hide much.”

  “Callie, when you were at Magic Waters, did you drink anything?”

  Mystified, she thought for a second and shook her head. “I don’t even think we had water at the beginning of the tour. Floyd poured me a glass of his showcase beer, but he collapsed before either of us could take a sip.”

  Scott blew out a breath, visibly relieved. He relaxed and leaned against the porch railing. “Floyd said he had drunk it before, right?”

  “Not exactly. I mean it was implied. He told me about the way h
e made the beer with both mushrooms soaking in the wort and an infusion afterwards. I’m assuming he had to taste the beer numerous times at both of those stages to make sure he was getting the flavor he wanted.” Callie looked at him in horror. “The beer made him ill? Had it gone bad or something?” she asked, remembering the glass in her hand and raising it to her lips.

  “I don’t know. Either that or he didn’t know what he was doing,” Scott said. “The mushrooms he used were poisonous.”

  Years of working on the farm and Coral’s instructions had given Callie a rudimentary understanding of mushrooms. “Which explains the flu like symptoms he had the week before,” said Callie. “He must have had an immediate reaction, but as he didn’t recognize it as mushroom poisoning, the toxins attacked his organs…”

  “… and he died of organ failure,” said Scott.

  “He must have only had a small dose from the batch soaked in the wort,” Callie mused. “That’s why it looked like he recovered. Maybe some mild damage was done as the mushrooms were diluted at that stage. Then he followed it up later with the much stronger infused beer. He might have even tasted the full strength mushroom and vodka tincture before he added it.”

  “Did he say anything about where he had gotten the mushrooms from?” asked Scott.

  “When we toured his supply room, he talked about Alterspice and I saw his order in the book there,” she said, remembering the somewhat creepy vibe she had while in the shop. “They provide spices and flavorings for many brewers in town and he said they gave him the mushroom mixture. Well, I don’t think it was even a mixture. It was supposed to be one hundred percent Chanterelles. I suppose if it was dried and chopped up, you wouldn’t notice if there was more than one mushroom in the mix.”

  “I can’t imagine a spice company would have any reason to poison a good customer, but I guess accidents happen…,” said Scott letting the sentence die off and cocking his head at her.

  “Are you asking my opinion?” asked Callie. “I remember another time when you told me not to play Nancy Drew,” she said acerbically.