I hoped that my people skills weren’t fading. If I was wrong about Garrett, that meant I could be working side by side with a killer.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON and evening passed with ease. Chief Meyers stuck around longer than I’d expected, but finally left shortly before we closed up for the night. I took my notes on the menu home with me and told Garrett that I would have Alex design something for him to approve tomorrow. We had explained to everyone that our pub menu would be coming soon, and not only did I want to fulfill that promise, but both Garrett and I agreed that having the food situation sorted out was a top priority.
As usual, Alex was waiting up for me when I got home. He wore a pair of tapered soccer warm-ups and a hooded black sweatshirt.
“Hey, Mom,” he called from the living room. “I’m in here.”
He was stretched out on the couch with his iPad on his lap, his phone on the coffee table, and his video game playing on the big screen.
“It looks like you’re going for the trifecta of digital devices,” I commented, and kissed the top of his head.
Pausing his game, he sat up and turned off the iPad. “Me and some of the guys have a group game going. It’s pretty cool. I’m air playing my game on the big screen and chatting on my phone.”
“You’ve lost me,” I said with a grin, and took a seat on the far end of the couch.
He rested his legs on my lap, and instinctively I began rubbing his feet. When he was little, we would curl up on the couch like this and watch Wallace & Gromit while I massaged his legs. He used to suffer from terrible growing pains in his preteen years. Massaging his legs was the only thing that relieved the tension.
“See, I’m playing this on my iPad but also on the TV.” He showed me how he had connected his devices. I listened with genuine interest, but was secretly thrilled that he had a natural inclination toward technology. I was perfectly happy to let him take the lead on digitalizing our house.
“Speaking of technology,” I said after he finished, “do you have any interest in a project? I’ll pay you.”
Alex had been saving up for a 3D printer. Mac had wanted to buy one for him for Christmas, but I stood my ground and insisted that such a big-ticket item should be earned. Alex was a great kid, who fortunately had a good work ethic, but Mac was too quick to give him spending money and an allowance. I wanted to instill the value of saving. Having grown up with nothing, I knew how important it was to be self-sufficient.
“How much does it pay?” Alex’s eyes lit up.
“Don’t get too excited. Not that much.” I showed him my notes on the menu for Nitro. “We were hoping you could design a menu.”
“Sure. That would be fun.” He wiggled his feet free and sat up. “And since you’re family, I’ll cut you a deal. How about a hundred bucks?”
I raised one brow.
“What? That’s a steal. Do you know how much design firms charge? Plus I’m saving up for the new FIFA game for my Xbox.”
“I thought you were kidding. You’re serious?” I dropped his legs and stood up.
“What’s the big deal? Don’t freak out, Mom.”
I knew it wasn’t entirely Alex’s fault, but his sense of entitlement reminded me too much of Mac. I had worked for every penny I had ever earned, and as difficult as my early years were, they’d taught me resilience. I wanted that for Alex, too.
“How long is this going to take you?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. A few hours.”
“Right. And how much is minimum wage?
“I don’t know, Mom. Seriously, you are freaking.” He fiddled with his controller.
“No, I’m trying to make a point. You’re fifteen years old, and you think for a couple hours of work you deserve one hundred dollars?”
He threw his hands in the air. “Fine. I get it. How about twenty-five bucks?” He winked.
“That sounds more like it.” I folded my arms across my chest.
He turned off his devices and took the notebook. “I’ll go work on this now.” Starting down the hallway, he stopped in midstride. “I forgot to tell you there was a black car parked in the driveway when I got home.”
“Really?” My mind flashed to my conversation with Chief Meyers.
“Yeah, it’s probably no big deal. They drove off when I got here, but it was kind of creepy. No one ever comes out here, you know?”
The hair on my arms stood at attention. Was someone watching us? Last night the motorcycle. Tonight a strange car in our driveway.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, honey,” I said to Alex, with a calm I didn’t feel. “Do me a favor and turn on the alarm system when you’re home by yourself. Just until everything settles down.”
Mac had installed a security system when we bought the farmhouse that had never been used. At the time, I thought it was ridiculous. Mac knew that Leavenworth wasn’t the kind of place where anyone had alarms. He’d agreed, but had it put in anyway. “You never know—maybe one day our hops will be so popular people will kill for them,” he had teased. I figured the system had been another status symbol for Mac, but tonight I was thankful that he’d ignored me.
“Whatever you say, Mom.” Alex saluted and continued to his bedroom.
“Don’t stay up too late,” I called after him.
My mind wouldn’t rest. I couldn’t stop thinking about Bruin and Eddie. Instead of heading for the bath or trying to sleep, I decided to play around with a couple of dessert options for Nitro. I was in the mood for chocolate and needed something to get my mind off Eddie’s murder.
Chocolate stout brownies were a classic choice for pub fare. I happened to have a bottle of dark stout in the fridge and always kept a stock of imported German chocolate on hand for Mac. For the batter, I melted salted butter on the stove and slowly incorporated chunks of German chocolate. Once the chocolate had melted, I removed the mixture from the stove and cracked in eggs, and added flour, sugar, vanilla, and extra cocoa powder. Then I slowly poured in a quarter cup of the dark frothy beer. It should give the brownies an intense chocolate flavor with a hint of malt.
I preheated the oven and slid the pan of brownies in to bake. While I waited for them, I took a quick shower and pulled on my favorite pair of pajamas. The entire house smelled of chocolate, which enticed Alex from his room. “What smells so good, Mom?”
“Brownies. You want one?”
“I want the whole pan.” He followed me to the kitchen and waited impatiently while I removed the pan from the oven and sliced into the brownies. I really should have let them cool for at least thirty minutes before cutting them, but I was with Alex—they smelled too good to wait.
“Careful, they’re super hot,” I cautioned as I handed him a gooey brownie on a plate.
He broke off a piece and blew on it. “Yum.”
I followed suit and tasted my creation. There was no mistaking the chocolate flavor, and my palate picked up the subtle beer flavor, too.
“What do you really think?” I asked Alex.
“Awesome.” He ate another chunk.
“You don’t have to be nice.”
“Mom, they are awesome. I’m serious—if you’d let me, I’d eat the whole pan.”
“Not the whole pan this late, but you can have another.” I smiled at his praise. The brownies tasted rich and chocolaty to me, but it was good to have Alex confirm that they had turned out okay. I have a serious chocolate problem, so I’m not necessarily the best judge. After I cut him another brownie, he returned to his room to work on the menu, and I decided to call it a night. I felt good to have the menu in the works and one of the dessert recipes nailed down. If only I could have felt the same way about Eddie’s murder. Baking the brownies had been a happy, but brief, distraction. As I walked down the hallway and flipped off the lights, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was missing something critical about the case. Had Chief Meyers been trying to hint at that?
Stop, Sloan; let it
go and go to bed.
I tried to follow my own advice but found myself tossing and turning for most of the night. Having a murderer in our midst was unsettling, but being mixed up in the middle of it was alarming. The thought of a killer on the loose made sleep nearly impossible.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-NINE
AFTER A RESTLESS NIGHT, I finally gave up the battle at five thirty and stumbled down the hall to make a pot of coffee. Alex was crashed in his room. I smiled at the sight of him curled up in the fetal position with a contented look on his face. He’d slept in the same position since he was an infant. Some things never changed.
The coffee took forever to brew. Or maybe it was that I was barely functional after tossing and turning all night. I guzzled two cups in a matter of a few minutes. It wasn’t until I started in on my third cup that everything seemed to come into focus. It was way too early to go into work, and I had to take Alex to school. I might as well make use of the time, so I pulled out two of my favorite dessert cookbooks and flipped through the pages for inspiration.
I wanted both of the dessert options to include beer. We were running a brewery, and it made sense to feature our beer in as many ways as we could. The beer cupcakes for opening night had been a hit, but the more I thought about it the more I was worried about how much time they would take to bake and frost each day and how they would hold up. No one likes a stale, dry cupcake. Cupcakes are really made to be consumed immediately, and since I wasn’t sure what the demand for desserts was going to be, I didn’t want to make something that couldn’t keep. The stout brownies would do well for a few days as long as I kept them in an airtight container.
After much debate, and looking at at least thirty different recipes, I finally decided on a citrus-infused shortbread. I would use the same ingredients I had in the cupcakes but make a shortbread instead. It should hold up well, and we could serve it with a scoop of vanilla or lemon ice cream.
I started by creaming together butter and sugar in the mixer. Then I added vanilla, grated lemon and orange rind, and a couple of healthy glugs of Pucker Up. The citrus scent perked up my senses along with my third cup of rich coffee. I squeezed fresh lemon and orange juice into the batter and then sifted in the dry ingredients. The batter was thick, with a gorgeous lemon yellow color. I spread it into a glass baking pan and placed it in the oven.
When Alex woke up an hour and a half later, I had warm slices of shortbread to share with him. He devoured the cookies and helped himself to a brownie.
“Breakfast brownie—it’s a thing, right?” He grinned.
“Where do you put it?” I waved my hand over his lanky frame. He shrugged and headed to the shower. While Alex got his stuff ready for school, I sliced the remaining brownies and shortbread and packed them in a Tupperware to bring to Garrett. Obviously, he would have the last word when it came to dessert.
On our way to the car, Alex handed me a mock-up of the menu he had created. He’d done a great job. The design was clean and simple but perfectly captured Nitro’s chemistry lab vibe. Alex had used the elements as his inspiration and spelled out Be (beryllium) Er (erbium) on a chart with the tagline Beer, the essential element. I knew that Garrett would love it and could already see Alex’s design on T-shirts and growlers.
“This is perfect,” I said, studying the sketch.
“You like it?”
“I love it.” I tucked it into my bag. “I’ll have Garrett take a look at it today and, as soon as we finalize the menu, have you add in the desserts and prices.”
“Cool.” His cheeks warmed slightly, but he blew off my compliment and hopped into the passenger seat.
He clicked on the radio and hummed along to a song I didn’t recognize. We drove in contented silence. As I turned onto the highway, the sound of a car revving its engine blasted behind us. Alex shouted and pointed to the car that sped by us, leaving a trail of smoke and skid marks on the road. “That’s it! That’s the car that was in our driveway last night.”
My heart raced. We were being followed? I didn’t recognize the car. It was black with tinted black windows and a personalized license plate that I couldn’t make out. I tried to remember every detail I could before it disappeared. It had to have been going close to ninety, and the speed limit on the highway was only fifty-five.
Alex’s eyes were wide. I could tell that he was nervous, so I did my best to keep my composure. “It’s probably some dude with a big ego,” I said, reaching over and patting his knee.
“Mom, I’m sure that was the car at our house last night.”
“I believe you.” I kept my tone light. “But I’m sure it’s nothing.”
He shook his head. “Mom, this could be serious, you know?”
I took my eyes off the road for a second and gave him a reassuring look. “I know, and I promise I’ll talk to Chief Meyers about it today, but I don’t want you to worry. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation.”
“Maybe Dad should move back home for a while,” he said, turning his head and staring out the window. “You know, to have a man in the house.”
“Alex, look at me. It’s fine. We’re fine. I’m a capable adult, and we don’t need your dad to move back in. I’ll take care of it, okay?”
“Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced, and I prayed that he wouldn’t talk to Mac about this. Knowing Mac, he would be at my door in a matter of seconds.
When we arrived at school, I repeated the sentiment as Alex jumped out of the car and headed into the building. Was he right? Did we need someone to protect us? Who was the mysterious driver in the black car? I didn’t recognize it from town, but then again, I didn’t spend a lot of time looking at cars. Why would someone come to the house? And had they really been following us this morning, or was it a random coincidence? There weren’t that many roads to town. It was completely possible that the driver of the black car had gotten lost last night and pulled into our driveway to turn around. Maybe they were staying nearby and we happened to hit the highway at the same time.
Even as I thought about it, that sounded much less plausible than I wanted it to be. What were the odds that the same car had appeared at our house and then sped past us on the highway less than twenty-four hours later? But then, why would someone be following me?
I let out a long sigh and continued on to Nitro. My promise to Alex wasn’t lip service; I planned to find Chief Meyers later this morning and let her know about being followed. Maybe she was already familiar with the car. I could ask around town, too. There weren’t very many cars with tinted windows in Leavenworth. Someone must know who the black sedan belonged to.
You’re probably worrying over nothing, I told myself as I pulled into a space in front of Nitro, grabbed the Tupperware of desserts, and headed inside. To my surprise, Garrett was already awake and brewing. He wore black rubber boots and had his chemistry goggles covering the top half of his face.
“Morning,” I called over the hum of grains being fed into the mash tun.
He flinched at the sound of my voice. “Oh, it’s you.”
“You’re up early.”
Shutting off the grain feeder, Garrett tugged off his goggles and offered me a hand. “Do you need help with any of that?”
I gave him the Tupperware. “Actually these are for you.”
He peeled open the lid and grinned. “Breakfast.”
“You sound like my son.” I shook my head. “Dessert.”
“What’s the difference?” Garrett reached in and took out a brownie. “When I would come visit Aunt Tess, she always served me dessert for breakfast. You must be channeling her spirit.” He bit into the brownie and gave a nod to the heavens.
“I couldn’t sleep last night so I decided to test out a couple of dessert options.”
“This. Definitely this,” Garrett said with a mouthful of brownie. Then he removed a slice of the citrus shortbread. After he’d tasted it he nodded enthusiastically. “And this, too.”
“It’s just a first try
—” I started to say.
He held out his palm. “Nope. Consider dessert done.”
“If you’re sure?”
Devouring another slice of shortbread, he gave me a thumbs-up. “I’m sure.”
“Random question, but you don’t happen to have a black sedan, do you?”
“No. Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ve seen a black sedan around town.”
“Around town?”
“Alex thought he saw it at our house last night and then it was on the highway this morning. It’s probably nothing. I’m probably imagining things.”
Garrett frowned. “Sloan, you don’t strike me as the type of woman who imagines things.”
What did he mean by that? My heart thumped in response to his intense stare. The guy had a way of throwing me off-center. “I’m not usually, but I think everyone in town is on high alert right now.”
“You should talk to the police chief.”
“Now you really sound like my son.”
“That’s because you have a smart kid.” He held up the Tupperware. “Are these for me?”
“Sure. Knock yourself out.” I patted my bag. “I have menus for you to look at, too.”
He followed me to the office, eating another brownie as he walked. “You don’t mess around, do you?”
I placed my bag on the far chair, found Alex’s mock-up menu, and handed it to Garrett. “What do you mean?”
“This.” He waved the menu. “All of it. Dessert, menu, guest taps. Is there anything you can’t do?”
Laughing, I waved his kind words away. “Where do you want me to start? The list of things I’m not good at is pretty lengthy.”
“Right.” He looked over the menu. “This is perfect. I guess Alex takes after you.”
“He’s an amazing kid. I wish I could take credit, but I swear he was born that way.” Had I been too hard on him last night? I felt a wave of regret for getting on his case about money, but Mac wasn’t exactly the best role model when it came to money management.
Death on Tap Page 16
