From Beer to Eternity

by Sherry Harris

  Once I’d heard they’d found Boone’s remains and set the burial service, I’d packed up and headed down here to pay my respects and fulfill my promise. Any other time in my adult life, if I’d found a dead person, Boone would have been the first person I would have called. Now I wasn’t sure who to talk to. My parents would freak out. My brothers would be driving down here to pick me up. As much as they tormented me growing up, they’d also protected me even when I didn’t think I needed protecting. Trust me, Jake Hawkensbury would never forget the night he brought me home after curfew. I shuddered at that memory. It was weeks before anyone asked me out after that incident.

  I dialed Rachel, my best friend and roommate in Chicago.

  “Chloe!!! I was just going to call you. I have fantastic news.” Rachel sounded giddy, which was unlike her. She was a serious girl, a med student at Northwestern. It’s why we were a good team. I got Rachel out of her shell, and she tempered my I’ll-try-anything streak.

  It made me smile to hear her happy voice. “What’s going on?”

  “Ashar asked me to marry him last night.”

  I was stunned. They’d only been dating for nine months. He was just . . . so . . . wrong for her. Too handsome. Big ego. Thought because he worked for the Cubs, he was God’s gift. But I couldn’t say any of this to her, certainly not now. “Tell me all about it. Every detail.” If Rachel was happy, I would be happy for her even if it gave me ulcers. We’d met in high school and she’d always been there for me.

  “He proposed during the seventh-inning stretch. We were sitting behind the Cubs dugout. Ashar leaped up on it, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up with him. I thought he’d gone mad.” Her laugh tinkled across the phone line. “Then he got down on one knee and whipped out the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen. It was all on the jumbotron. Everyone cheered for us. And then the Cubs won. It was the perfect evening.”

  “If only they showed the games down here. I would have seen it.”

  “I’ll send you a link so you can watch. You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?”

  “Absolutely! I’d be honored—forgive the pun. Did you set a date?”

  “Not an exact date, but sometime next winter, before spring training starts.”

  “That makes perfect sense.”

  Rachel paused. “Chloe . . .”

  “What?” Was she going to confess some doubt? How could she say no when Ashar had asked her in such a public way?

  “Ashar wants to move in right away. And because you’re away . . .”

  I was a bit surprised that Ashar would want to leave his shiny penthouse for the charming old building we lived in. But it was walking distance to Wrigley Field. “Of course,” I said. Rachel’s grandmother owned the apartment and I paid rent to Rachel—a much-reduced rent by Chicago standards. I’d always known I couldn’t live there forever. “That makes sense.”

  “Ashar wondered if we could put your things in storage so he can convert your room into his man cave.”

  Already? I’d left most of my belongings in Chicago. “I won’t be able to get back up there to pack. At least not for a few weeks.”

  “I’ll pack for you. If you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, not” I chirped. At least I hoped I sounded chirpy. Peppy. Maid of honor-y. I tried to put myself in her shoes. Madly in love. Wanting to move on to a new phase in her life. I’d kick me out too. “My parents have a storage unit and I’ll ask one of my brothers to move my stuff once it’s packed.” I didn’t have that much because the place had been furnished with Rachel’s grandmother’s things.

  “Thanks for understanding. You’re the best. Hey, why did you call?”

  I couldn’t tell her about finding Elwell when she was so happy. “I must have just sensed you had something to tell me.” We hung up a few minutes later.

  * * *

  My thoughts turned back to Elwell. I didn’t know that much about him, so I looked him up on my phone. He was the president of the Emerald Cove Chamber of Commerce. Really? He was supposed to be supporting local businesses, not scaring customers away by acting crazy. Could that be a motive for murder? There wasn’t much else about him online. Nothing about his murder, but it had only happened a few hours ago, so that wasn’t too surprising.

  I headed back to my car. Maybe the mindless work at the Sea Glass would help, or maybe I’d hear something that would relieve my worries about Vivi. Because as much as I loved Boone, I couldn’t imagine working for a murderer.

  CHAPTER 6

  That evening at closing, Joaquín lounged against the backside of the bar watching me attack a stubborn stain on the wood. He’d just closed the sliders and locked up.

  “What did that stain do to you? Yesterday it was chopping the fruit, today this.”

  “It had the nerve to appear on Vivi’s bar.” I’d been thinking about my run-in with Rhett, finding Elwell, and Vivi’s argument with a man last night. I attacked the spot again. “Do you know a Rhett B—”

  “Rhett Barnett? Sure do, but don’t let Vivi hear you saying his name in here.”

  Hmmm. Rhett had made it sound like he was on speaking terms with Vivi, though she did give him the cold shoulder earlier. “Why not?”

  “The Slidells and the Barnetts make the Montagues and Capulets look like family friends.”

  “Shakespeare?” I asked.

  “Just ’cause I live in the South and fish don’t mean I don’t know nothin’.” He said it with a fake drawl heavy with sarcasm.

  “That’s not what I meant to imply.” Or had it been? Did I have some teensy prejudices against Southern people that up until this point I didn’t realize? “I’m sorry.” Joaquín was the only person who was halfway friendly to me here. I couldn’t lose him as a potential friend. I needed my Scarecrow.

  Joaquín raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then. By the way, the stain’s been gone for a good minute. You can quit scrubbing.”

  I looked down, and he was right. At least I’d accomplished something today, even if it was only removing a stain. “Where’s Vivi?” She’d been in this morning, but took off when Joaquín showed up at one.

  “She’s planning a memorial for Elwell with the other heritage businesses.”

  “The heritage businesses?” I asked. “What are they?”

  “Any business that’s been open since 1950 or before. You go back much further than that and this was just a spit of land with a couple of sandy roads leading to the beach. Then the fishing village popped up, and more people starting moving here.”

  “So which businesses are the heritage ones?”

  “Here, of course, and the Briny Pirate. The Hickle glass-bottom boat, the Redneck Rollercoaster, the Emerald Cove fishing boat charter, and Russo’s Grocery Store. They’ve been passed down from generation to generation.”

  “Most of those places are stops on the Redneck Rollercoaster.” So was the Sea Glass. I had picked up a brochure, but hadn’t gone for a ride yet. Why it was called that when it was a trolley that took tourists to several local historic spots, the beach, and, of course, here, remained a mystery to me.

  “You done?” Joaquín asked. “I have an early start tomorrow.”

  “I am.” I hoped it wasn’t too late to find a motel room somewhere. I needed a good night’s sleep and a real shower. Maybe even room service. It sounded like heaven. My morning could be summed up as one of my favorite children’s books: Chloe and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Morning. Okay, so that wasn’t quite the title, but close enough. If I stayed in a motel and Officer Biffle came back around, I’d have proof I’d stayed somewhere.

  Joaquín slid a dolphin key ring with keys on it across the bar to me.

  “What’s this?” I asked. I couldn’t imagine that Vivi wanted me to have the keys to the bar.

  “It’s the keys to Boone’s place.”

  I frowned. Boone had lived in Chicago, not more than two blocks from me. Was this Vivi’s way of telling me to get out? “Boone’s place?”

 
“Yes. Vivi bought it for him years ago.”

  I stared at Joaquín. “Boone rented his place in Chicago.” I would have known if he’d owned it.

  “Not his place in Chicago. His home here.”

  Boone had a home here? It had been a long day. Rhett had scared the bejesus out of me early this morning, and then I found Elwell dead. Followed by Rachel’s big engagement-and-moving announcement. Throw in worrying about Vivi and working. I was starting to wonder if I was hearing things.

  “Are you okay?” Joaquín raised his eyebrows in alarm.

  The jury was out on that one. Boone having a place here was news to me. “Does she need me to go over there and clean or something?”

  “You can stay there. I didn’t know you’d been sleeping in your car.”

  I blushed. This was so humiliating. I lifted my chin. “I don’t need charity. I’m staying at a motel tonight, and I’ll find a permanent place in the morning.” If I could. It was the height of tourist season, when condo rentals were as rare as snowflakes and more expensive than a private yacht. If not, maybe I’d buy a tent and camp somewhere. Although none of my childhood camping experiences had been all that great. I’d never been sure which I’d been more afraid of, a wandering bear or a psychopath I was always sure was hiding out in the woods. Needless to say, when we’d camped, I hadn’t slept well.

  “How did you know I was sleeping in my car?”

  “I didn’t. You just told me you had been.”

  Great. First I was humiliated and now I was tricked. “But why would you even ask me that?”

  “Vivi handed me the keys and asked me to give them to you. I figured something was up.”

  Vivi did that? Life was full of surprises. She must have heard my conversation with Deputy Biffle and figured it out. Or Rhett had called a cease-fire to the feud long enough to tell Vivi he had found me sleeping on the boat.

  “Why didn’t she just give them to me herself?”

  Joaquín sighed. “As I’ve told you, she has a good heart. It seems like it was dislike at first sight with you two, so I’ve become the middleman.”

  “That’s not true. I don’t dislike her.” Was it? Maybe I resented that she wasn’t who I thought she’d be. In my head, I’d pictured swooping in to save the day. It had been my noble cause since the day I’d heard Boone had gone missing. His grandma would be grateful. I’d be lauded. The reality was so vastly different from the notion.

  “I’m fine.” I pushed the keys back to Joaquín. My parents had taught me to stand on my own two feet. Moving into Boone’s place seemed like taking charity.

  He pushed the keys back to me. “It’s what Boone would have wanted.”

  Boone. Of course that was true. Boone would have given his left arm to someone if they’d needed it. It’s why he’d joined the National Guard.

  Joaquín scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to me. “Boone’s address.”

  I curled my hand around the keys. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Thank Vivi.”

  Maybe this could be a new beginning for Vivi and me. “I will.”

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, I rounded one of the coastal lakes, drove down a long, tree-lined driveway, and parked in front of a one-story, concrete-block house that crouched on top of a sand dune. There were tall pine trees on the right side of the house. To the left, there was a patch of brush, scrub oak, magnolia, and then, farther off, more tall pines. I glimpsed the lights of another house through the trees. I felt like Amanda in the very first Goosebumps book by R. L. Stine, when she’d thought, “It’s so dark.”

  I grabbed a suitcase and climbed a set of rickety wooden steps. I had to use the flashlight on my phone to see. I could hear the slap of waves, but nothing else. No cars. No sirens. No conversations. It was creepy for a city girl like me. The soft tang of saltwater mingled with the fresh pine scent as I unlocked the heavy wooden door. It complained a bit as I forced it open. I flipped on a light, took two steps inside, and stopped. The whole back side of the house was glass windows and one door looking out on . . . was that the Gulf? Wow. If the yellow brick road had ended here, Dorothy might have kept Kansas in her rearview mirror.

  I set down my suitcase, closed and locked the front door, skirted the furniture, and unlatched the flimsy lock of the aluminum door at the back. It led to a screened-in porch that ran across the entire back of the house. The sound of the Gulf was louder here. Warm, damp air surrounded me. Even in the dark I could make out the white beach and the black Gulf beyond it.

  Why hadn’t Boone ever mentioned this place? I frowned and thought back over conversations about his visits here. Remembered something about Vivi liking her privacy, so he crashed in a family place. He’d never mentioned it was his or that it was on the beach.

  I crossed the porch to a screen door with another flimsy lock. I unlocked it and went out onto a set of three steps that led to a wooden walkway. It went over the sea grass on the dune down to the beach. The Gulf was inky black, calm. Beautiful. After I stood for a few minutes, I went back in, turned on more lights, and began looking around. The house was small, but someone had spent time updating it so the main room was an open living, kitchen, and dining room. There was a bedroom and bath on either side. Each room had a ceiling fan, and I flipped them on. The air smelled a bit musty. I found a thermostat and turned it down so the air conditioner kicked on. As much as I didn’t like manufactured cold air, without it, mold would soon take over. And as a plumber’s daughter, I know: better cold than mold.

  I chose the bedroom that had sliding glass doors out to the screened porch and tossed my suitcase on the bed before heading to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator. A twelve-pack of Boone’s favorite beer was inside. I grabbed a bottle. It felt like he was welcoming me. I found an opener in the drawer, popped the top off, and wandered back out to the porch. It was furnished with a wicker chaise lounge, couch, rocker, and coffee table. The chaise and couch had lime-green cushions. On the other side of the porch was a wooden porch swing. I took a swig of my beer as I settled on a wicker couch that creaked and popped.

  “Thank you, Boone.” I held up my beer in a toast. “I’ll keep my promise, even though Vivi doesn’t want me here.” I looked out at the Gulf. “Vivi doesn’t need me either. I wish I would have asked you why you wanted me here when I had the chance.”

  CHAPTER 7

  The sky was just getting light when I woke up on Monday morning. I’d left the slider ajar so the waves would lull me to sleep. I’d stuck a yardstick in the tracks to keep it from opening too far, so I wouldn’t have to worry about being murdered in my sleep. You can take a girl out of the city but . . . well, you know. Anyway, the open slider worked great, and I’d slept better than I had since I’d arrived. Of course, sleeping in a bed rather than on a boat or in my car didn’t hurt. Considering what had happened to Elwell yesterday, I was surprised I’d slept at all.

  I threw on jogging shorts and a sports bra, trotted down the stairs to the beach, and headed west toward the Sea Glass. I wondered how close it was as the pelican flies. To get here last night I’d had to follow the road that skirted the other side of the lake. I had a feeling it was much closer this way. The beach between Boone’s house and the Sea Glass was state land protected from development, according to a small sign. The lake and a stand of tall pines must be part of the preserve too.

  The sand down by the water’s edge was almost as solid as concrete and much easier to run on than the soft sand above. My feet seemed to slap out Elwell Pugh, Elwell Pugh. Sanderlings—small shore birds—darted away, escaping me and the waves as I ran along. They pecked at the sand for something too tiny for me to see even when I stopped and ran in place to watch.

  I passed the lake, seventy-five yards, three-quarters of a football field to my right. Compared to Lake Michigan, this was a pond that was given the grander name of lake. It was surrounded by pines on three sides. Giants protecting lily pad–covered water. Monet probably
would have liked to paint the scene given the chance. I hoped there weren’t any alligators in the lake. I glanced over, didn’t see anything, but sped up a bit anyway, just in case any were submerged, waiting for someone like me to pass by.

  Ten minutes later, I was in front of the Sea Glass. It would be fun to run to work if the weather wasn’t so hot. I was already dripping with sweat. From what the locals had told me, it would cool off around October, but I would be back in Chicago by then. My boss had allowed me to take a leave of absence, but it wouldn’t last forever. We’d left it vague—a few weeks.

  Ack, and I’d have to find a new apartment. Chicago was so expensive, it wouldn’t be easy to find something close to my library on what I made. I supposed I could live out in the suburbs in one of my brother’s basements for a bit if worse came to worse.

  They both had lovely wives and kids, but the commute would be awful. And my brothers still treated me like I was nine.

  I kept running. Fishing boats dotted the horizon, glowing pink in the early light. I wondered if Joaquín was out there. I glanced toward the harbor. I couldn’t see Boone’s boat because the Briny Pirate and the Sea Glass blocked my view.

  Rhett could be back there. Oh, I was curious about him—in a curiosity-killed-the-cat kind of way that probably meant trouble for me. I’d been down that road before with a handsome man. After I’d been dumped, I had ended up engaged to a very nice but very boring man. Then I had come to my senses. In fact, Boone helped me come to my senses. I’d broken off our engagement, but I’d hurt the man deeply.

  I didn’t want to go through that kind of drama again any time soon, not as the dumper or the dumpee, so I’d stay far away from Rhett. Although a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, would it? I wasn’t going to be around that long. No chance of getting my heart broken because I didn’t give it easily anymore. I rolled my eyes at myself. So much for being strong.