After I delivered the drinks I came back.
“Why in the world are mimosas so popular this morning?” he asked.
“Um, maybe because they’re fifty percent off?” My voice rose at the end of the sentence.
“Vivi won’t—”
“Like that. I heard.” I pointed to the woman with the permed hair. “It was that or trying to figure out how to make a bunch of different frozen drinks.” Some bars had frozen drink machines, but Vivi insisted that all our drinks had to be made fresh. “Don’t worry. I’ll make up the difference.” I loaded up the tray, carried it over, and distributed drinks. Fortunately, I was used to carting books and kids around the library, so I could take the weight. The dexterity to distribute them without spilling was a new challenge. But I managed it this morning.
Joaquín and I worked well together. While he was a whiz with drinks, I was great at small talk and keeping things clean and orderly. With Vivi gone, I was more relaxed and began to enjoy myself. Working here was kind of fun.
“I got a text from Vivi.” Joaquín held up his phone. “She said she’s out making arrangements so we can have a memorial for Elwell tonight.”
“Do you think that’s what she’s really doing?” Why wouldn’t she be here doing that? “I don’t know. But can you make up a couple of signs that say we’re closed at seven for a private event?”
“Vivi’s going to close for the memorial?”
“It will be plenty busy just with the locals here. No one will want curious tourists around.”
I hadn’t thought about curious tourists. I looked over the crowd. Were any of these people here because there’d been a murder? I shrugged, unlocked Vivi’s office, and found cardboard and Sharpies. The office was cramped but tidy. Her desk faced a beautiful oil painting that captured the emerald color of the water. There were black and white photographs of the Sea Glass from early days, along with others of fishermen. The desk was old and scarred. The chair, modern and ergonomic. Almost seemed like a metaphor for this area—the old and new trying to work together, but not always succeeding.
I sat at Vivi’s desk and quickly made three signs, two for outside and one for inside. I didn’t embellish them because that seemed like it would be disrespectful to Elwell. The temptation to look through drawers was strong, but I made the difficult decision to skip that. I hung the signs and got back to work.
* * *
By three, even Joaquín looked really worried, and I assumed it was about Vivi’s whereabouts, although I’d also mentioned the outside security camera was pointing straight down. He didn’t say it out loud, but he’d spent a good part of the last hour looking toward the back door in between mixing drinks. He’d also made several phone calls. As far as I could tell, whoever he was calling didn’t answer. I heard him muttering in Spanish a couple of times. Something about loco, crazy. The muttering was a first since I’d met him. That didn’t bode well, and I was starting to worry too.
“Where do you think she is?” I finally asked. “I’m guessing from your demeanor this isn’t normal behavior for Vivi.” I didn’t know her well enough to be certain what normal behavior was. I tried to remember the bits and pieces Boone had said about his grandmother. None of it included wandering off for hours without letting her employees know where she was.
“Will you go next door and check with Wade about the food for tonight?” Joaquín asked.
I looked at him for a moment. “Sure.” Why should he confide in me? I hadn’t been here that long. Still, I was disappointed. Joaquín was the only friend I had here—or sort of friend, apparently. I went out the front and stopped to gaze at the beach scene. Volleyball players, sunbathers, sandcastle builders, and people with metal detectors all cohabited the beach in harmony. Maybe it was just too hot to fuss about anything. A couple of Jet Skis darted around on the placid water as I made my way through the soft sand to the Briny Pirate.
It was an old wooden structure with only a small sign over the door that said, “Briny Pirate.” Nothing big or garish along this strip of beach. No flashing neon signs, or many signs of any kind. It kept the natural beauty of the area the focus. Like the Sea Glass, the Briny Pirate had a deck on the ocean-facing side. I wove my way through the tables and stepped inside. The interior was decorated with fishing nets, fake gold coins, and a talking treasure box in one corner that kept kids amused. The scent of barbecue wafted in from the smoker on the west side of the building. I realized I was hungry.
Vivi sat at the four-seater bar talking to Wade, their foreheads almost touching. She had a glass of iced tea in front of her. Moisture beaded on the glass, which was only about a quarter full, so she’d been here a while or had guzzled it. I was part aggravated and part relieved. At least she was okay. Their conversation looked intense. The only words that floated over were “questioned” and “Deputy Biffle.”
CHAPTER 9
Oh, no. So that’s where Vivi had been. Being questioned by the deputy. The empty feeling in my stomach got worse. I hesitated interrupting, but decided I had nothing to lose by approaching Vivi. And eventually Wade would spot me. I went over and stood beside her. Wade and Vivi jerked away from each other.
“Joaquín is worried,” I said, looking Vivi right in the eye. For once, she looked embarrassed. The look was fleeting.
She stood. “Wade, we’ll talk later.” She walked out the front door and, I assumed, headed back to the bar.
I turned to Wade. “Joaquín wanted me to check on the food for tonight. Although I’m guessing he really wanted me to come over to see if you’d heard from Vivi.”
Wade smiled. He had light blue eyes in his tan and wrinkled face. The man had a resting helpful face.
“I’ve got brisket in the smoker and fish will be grilled. Rolls are in the oven, coleslaw in the fridge, and the fried pickles will be hot and fresh.”
I must have grimaced at the fried pickles. They sounded disgusting.
Wade laughed. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried my fried pickles.”
“I’ll try anything once. Except raw oysters.” I shuddered. “I’ve never figured out how people can eat that slime.”
Wade laughed. “We’ll have to work on that too.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “Is Vivi okay? It sounded like she was hauled in for questioning by Deputy Biffle.”
Wade’s helpful look disappeared into a frown.
“I’m worried about her. Or for her,” I said. “Losing Boone and now this. That’s hard for anyone to take.”
“I’m worried too,” Wade finally said. “They kept her a long time.”
“Do they think Vivi killed Elwell?”
“Vivi doesn’t think so. She tried to brush off the questions as routine. But from what she told me, I’m afraid they do.”
I was surprised that Wade confided in me, and I had hoped for reassurance, but his answer only increased my anxiety. When Boone asked me to come down here if anything happened to him, I’m guessing he never imagined a scenario like this. Unless Vivi had some kind of criminal background I didn’t know about. What did I really know about her? Bars could be tough places, with tough customers. Maybe she had a troubled past.
“I’ve got a couple of Redneck specials ready to go over to the Sea Glass. Mind taking them?” Wade asked.
Apparently Wade was done answering questions about Vivi. “I’d be happy too.” I’d had the Redneck special earlier in the week. Rice, corn, greens, black-eyed peas, and the meat of your choice, with just enough hot sauce for tang. I’d had the pulled pork. The serving was enough food for three meals. It had tasted like heaven surely would. Wade handed me two cardboard containers and I headed back over to the bar.
* * *
At eight that night, during Elwell’s memorial service, a thunderstorm raged, my first since I’d moved here. I stood behind the bar, fascinated and jumpy, as the storm rolled across the Gulf from the horizon to the doorstep of the Sea Glass. Watching lightening on the horizon was amazing—a great show
curtesy of nature. But now every bolt of lightning seemed closer than the last, and I couldn’t help but jump.
It wasn’t like Chicago didn’t have storms. Lake Michigan could have bigger waves than I’d seen on the Gulf so far. One storm had been so bad, it destroyed a Wisconsin lighthouse by knocking it right into the lake. Many a ship had sunk in Lake Michigan. Thinking about it made me quiver. I had a history with bad storms. It’s what made me so jittery now.
The Gulf’s angry-looking white caps marched to the deserted beach reaching higher and higher. None of the locals, and there were a lot of them packed in here, seemed disturbed by the storm. Technically, I didn’t have to work tonight, but I wanted to hear what the attendees had to say about Elwell. So far, no one had said anything that piqued my interest. Nothing that pointed to a killer. I stayed anyway because I’d rather be around people during a storm like this than alone at Boone’s house huddled under blankets.
People ate, drank, and chatted. Food and pitchers of beer were sitting out on one side of the room. Folks sat at tables on the other. At Wade’s urging, I tried a fried pickle. The fried coating had just a bit of spice and the dill pickle slice was crunchy. It was delicious.
Nothing formal had happened, although I saw a wireless microphone sitting on a table next to Vivi. She’d kept to herself since I’d returned from the Briny Pirate. I hadn’t even had a chance to ask Joaquín if he knew she’d been questioned because we’d been slammed.
I helped Joaquín and served as needed. A woman, who looked a few years older than me, sat at the bar on the very stool Elwell had been sitting on since I started. She had dark hair that fell in sultry waves halfway down her back. I’d noticed her in here several times before because she was stunning. She usually picked some corner or other to sit in by herself and often had a paperback in one hand and a martini in the other. A dirty one.
Today, she had her back to the bar and was in her usual black—this time shorts and a T-shirt—sans book. Her skin color was just dark enough that it gave her a sultry appearance. If I was given to flights of fancy, I’d say she looked like a pirate. A lovely, intelligent-looking pirate. Her legs were crossed and she had a small tattoo of a red, yellow, and green rectangle with a starburst in the middle on her inner left ankle.
Vivi flicked on the microphone. “I’m going to pass this around. If any of y’all have anything you want to say about Elwell, now’s your chance.”
The microphone passed from person to person. Some people just held up their drink and said, “Rest in peace.”
Buford stood up and swayed a bit. He’d been here for the past several hours pounding beers. I’d seen him hand over his keys to his rummy-playing friend about an hour earlier. “I met Elwell on the playground in kindergarten when he punched me in the nose. I punched him back and we became best friends. We played Pop Warner football together. I was the center and he was the quarterback. I took the hits, he got the glory. Kind of a metaphor for our friendship.” He swayed. “Metaphor’s a big word for a redneck, right?” He wiped a tear from his eye and looked up. “Elwell, you were the shark and the rest of us minnows.”
What the heck did that mean? What was that a metaphor for? They’d been friends for a long time if they played Pop Warner together. The league started at age five.
A bleached blonde grabbed the microphone. Her eye shadow was sparkly blue, her deep, V-neck shirt showed too much wrinkled, tanned cleavage. Her face looked Botoxed to the point I was surprised she could move her lips. But move them she did.
She stood up, not too steady on her feet.
“Who’s that?” I asked Joaquín.
“Gloria Pugh.”
“Elwell was a son of a bitch. But he was my son of a bitch until I left him six months ago.” Her voice had a pack-an-hour kind of husk to it. A couple of big diamond rings sparkled on her hands. “He was up to something, and I think one of you, sitting here pretending to be sorry, was in on it with him.” She turned slowly in a big circle, looking everyone in the eye. “One of you killed Elwell.”
CHAPTER 10
The room went dead silent. I glanced at Vivi, and she looked over at me in just that moment. I’m not sure what she was thinking, but she didn’t look away until I did.
“And I wouldn’t blame you if you did,” continued Elwell’s wife. “He’d become an embarrassment to me, our businesses, and our daughter. What kind of man wears an armadillo on his head? A sick one, that’s who.” She swayed again. There was more swaying going on than laundry hung outside in a gale. She got misty-eyed and gripped the microphone harder. “But I guess in the end I still loved him or I wouldn’t be so sad.” She crumpled back into her seat, sobbing. A man next to her pried the mic out of her hand. No one else had anything to say after that. At least not publicly. I noticed Vivi hadn’t said anything at all about Elwell.
By nine thirty the storm had passed with the last rumbles of thunder off in the distance to the north. There was only one table full of people left, and as far as I could tell, they were the heritage business owners. The only exception was the dark-haired woman who’d been sitting at the bar earlier.
“Who is that woman?” I asked Joaquín as we cleaned up.
“Ann Williams.”
That didn’t tell me much. “Is she a heritage business owner?”
Joaquín let out a sexy chuckle. “Hardly.”
He didn’t add anything.
“What’s she do?”
“She fixes things,” Joaquín said.
“Oh, interesting.” A handywoman. I liked it when women were in traditional male roles. “Good for her.” It also explained why she was in here during the day sometimes. She probably worked when she could and didn’t keep any kind of regular hours. I started putting clean glasses back on shelves below the bar.
I was distracted when I heard someone out on the deck. Rhett stepped into the bar with a silver-haired woman on his arm. She was a tiny thing but had the same green eyes as Rhett.
I nudged Joaquín. “Looks like the Montagues just showed up. Who is that with Rhett?”
“His grandmother.”
Rhett’s grandmother dropped his arm and strolled over to the table where everyone was sitting. She wore what looked like a flowered Lilly Pulitzer dress. The owner of the fishing charter stood and offered her a seat. She shook her head. “I won’t be here that long. I just wanted to pay my respects to Elwell.” Her face was wrinkled and dotted with age spots.
“You’re late. But what’s new about that?” Vivi said.
“At least I can let go of the past,” Rhett’s grandmother answered, lifting her chin.
Whoa, what was that about? I stopped putting away glasses to watch.
Vivi looked over in my direction. “Open a bottle of champagne and bring over some coupe glasses. If Melanie wants to toast Elwell, who am I to stop her.”
Melanie? Was Rhett’s whole family named after characters from Gone with the Wind? Was his mom Scarlett and his brother Ashley? I reached for a bottle out of the small fridge under the bar.
“Get the good stuff,” Joaquín said.
There were two bottles of Dom Perignon in the fridge. I liked champagne and knew that Dom was the good stuff. I grabbed them and handed them to Joaquín. He opened both bottles while I arranged the coupe glasses on a tray. Coupe glasses were more saucerlike than flutes. According to Joaquín, people argued which was better for drinking champagne out of. Personally, I didn’t care. I just loved a bubbly drink. I guess Vivi was on team coupe because those were the glasses she’d requested.
Joaquín poured enough in each glass for everyone to toast. I carried the tray over to the table and distributed drinks, ignoring Rhett. And by ignoring him, I mean being aware of exactly where he was and what he was doing. In this moment, he was talking to stunning Ann Williams.
I gave the first glass of champagne to Vivi, the next to Rhett’s grandmother. It dawned on me that Rhett’s grandmother was in the picture I’d noticed earlier. She was the one standing off to
one side, arms crossed. I finally had to look at Rhett directly when I handed him his glass. His green eyes, the intense look, made me unreasonably fluttery inside. Maddening. I turned to go.
“Oh, stay,” Vivi said. “Joaquín, please bring two more glasses so you and Chloe can join us.”
Joaquín complied, and Rhett somehow maneuvered around so he stood next to me. Everyone lifted their glasses. Vivi and Melanie spoke at once: “To Elwell.”
As everyone else said, “To Elwell,” Rhett leaned in and whispered, “To secrets.” I tried to ignore the shiver his breath on my ear brought, but I couldn’t. My skin grew warm and my face was probably blazing red. I glanced around, hoping no one had noticed. But Vivi and Rhett’s grandmother looked first at us and then at each other—and not in a happy way. Rhett seemed unperturbed by it all. When I moved away, he started making his way around the table, shaking hands and talking. I went back behind the bar to what was starting to feel like my safe place. He looked so at ease, as if the tension I picked up on didn’t exist. Maybe he was a sociopath and didn’t have any normal human emotions.
When Rhett made it all the way around the table and back to his grandmother, he took her arm, and they left.
Vivi stood, so everyone else did too. “Thanks for coming.”
Fifteen minutes later, after much hugging and cheek kissing among the heritage business owners, the place was empty except for Vivi, Joaquín, and me. Joaquín put barstools up on tables while Vivi swept the floors. I collected all the champagne coupes, washed them by hand, dried them, and put them away. By the time I was done, Vivi sat in her office with a glass of bourbon in her hand. I poked my head in to say good night even though it felt awkward and I never knew what kind of reaction I’d get.
“Take tomorrow off,” Vivi said. “You’ve had a long day.”
“Okay,” I said reluctantly. I hadn’t had a day off since I’d arrived. And wasn’t sure what I’d do with myself if I did. I told Joaquín goodbye and walked out the front. As I walked to the parking lot, I could see a couple of the heritage business owners chatting there. They couldn’t hear me coming as I crossed the soft sand. I stopped in the shadow of the Sea Glass, curious to hear what they were saying.
From Beer to Eternity Page 6
