From Beer to Eternity

by Sherry Harris

  I hoped there wasn’t too much damage. It wasn’t like I had a lot of valuables in there. Boone’s letter and the picture of us were the most precious things. My clothes could be replaced. The furniture was nothing special. I wasn’t sentimental enough to get teary over Boone’s old furniture. I’d found out long ago that life was what was precious. A fireman tromped over to me and raised his mask. Ralph.

  “You trying to make s’mores and things got out of hand?” he asked.

  My mind was a whirl of emotions—anger and anxiety—but I managed a laugh. Grateful to Ralph for trying to defuse the tension. “I didn’t know you were a fireman.”

  “We have a small paid staff and a large contingent of volunteers. I’m a volunteer. You have any idea what went on out here?”

  “No. The wood wasn’t here when I came home.”

  “Did you come straight home after you left the diner?”

  “I did. I don’t even know what time it is now.”

  “Just after one.”

  “I can’t believe I slept so soundly.” Someone had snuck around out there, piling up the wood, dousing it with gasoline. I wondered why they didn’t light all the piles. Did something scare them off? My snoring?

  “It’s the Gulf. Darn relaxing under most circumstances.”

  “Or Delores’s pie.”

  A sheriff’s car trundled down the drive. Lights, no sirens. The county was big; hard telling where they’d come from to get here. Another car, a sedan, followed it. I turned at a noise in my house.

  “We’re opening all the windows and running some big fans to help dissipate the smoke,” Ralph said. “There’s no fire or water in the house. You’ll probably need to call a professional to clean the place. Smoke settles in furniture like gravy on biscuits. Seeps into every nook and cranny. You have somewhere else you can sleep tonight?”

  I looked at my Beetle. Thought about Boone’s boat. Either would do. If I could sleep. “Yes. I do.”

  “Have any idea who would do this?”

  I thought about the two cowboys. But I also thought about Gloria saying one of the heritage business owners had killed Elwell. Why was Ralph asking me these questions? Shouldn’t it be someone from the sheriff’s department, or an arson investigator? I didn’t owe him an answer. If the cowboys wanted to kill me, they could have set the back porch on fire, or tossed a Molotov cocktail through a window. Or run me off the road. Or just shot me. Death could come in many ways. This seemed like a back off message instead of an actual attempt to kill me. Unfortunately, whoever did this didn’t realize it gave me more to ask.

  Ralph watched me. I hadn’t answered his question. “I don’t have any idea.”

  “What part of Illinois are you from?”

  I was kind of surprised he didn’t know. I figured all the heritage owners knew my story. “Chicago.”

  “Anything bad follow you down here? Were you running from something?”

  “No to both. That’s not why I came.”

  “Why did you really come?”

  “For Boone.” He didn’t need to know more than that.

  Another fireman came up. Well, firewoman. “I found this tossed on the other side of the pile.” She dangled what was left of a plastic gas container. Singed and melted in spots. The nozzle drooping.

  “The arson investigator just got here. Give it to her. Maybe they’ll get lucky and find some evidence on it.”

  She walked toward a deputy and a woman who must have arrived in the sedan.

  Ralph looked at me. “Don’t get your hopes up about them finding anything on it.”

  “I won’t.”

  “The deputy and arson investigator are going to want a statement.”

  “Didn’t I just give it to you?” Not that I’d said much.

  “Come on. They’ll need to hear it all too.”

  * * *

  An hour later, the deputy and arson investigator had left. There wasn’t much to investigate unless they thought I did this for some crazed reason. The last crew was bringing fans out of my house and rolling up hoses. Even after they’d put out the fire it still reeked of gasoline out here. Nothing like the pleasant woodsy smell I remembered from camping trips after a fire was put out. I walked around the edge of the house, checking out the scorched wall, and almost plowed into a fireman.

  “Sorry.” I took a step back. Peered up in the darkness. “Rhett?”

  “Could you sound more astonished?” he asked. “I told you I had to work tonight.”

  “You’re a fireman?” I wasn’t about to admit that I thought his “work” had something to do with Ann Williams. But it explained why, the day I’d found Elwell, he’d called a number and known the dispatcher was Delores.

  “One of the volunteers.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you for putting out fires.”

  He unsnapped the front of his heavy yellow coat. His face was smoke-stained and streaked with sweat. “Never go back into a smoke-filled house.”

  “That was you who carried me out?”

  “Yes. Smoke kills people faster than fire.”

  “Thank you for coming in after me.” Not that I thought I couldn’t have made it out on my own. “It wasn’t that bad.” Who was I kidding? It had been terrifying. Even worse than almost getting knocked off the bridge. “I wanted to move my car.”

  “Losing your car is a lot better than losing your life.”

  “Got it.” I was annoyed at the lecture. I wasn’t stupid. Though I’d obviously made myself a target. I turned away.

  “Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  I was still curious to find out what he’d wanted to talk to me about earlier today. “Okay.”

  I finished my circle around the house. All in all, except for a scorched wall, the house looked fine. When I got back to the front, Rhett and Ralph were gone. Another fireman told me it was okay to go in. I packed a few toiletries and clothes, locked the house, and left with the last of the firemen. Now where to go?

  CHAPTER 25

  “Rise and shine,” a voice said. “I brought breakfast burritos.”

  Rhett. He’d found me sleeping on Boone’s boat. Again. Although now it was my boat—I couldn’t get used to that thought. I was surprised I’d managed to go to sleep, the way my brain had swirled and eddied last night. Picturing the fire, still smelling the smoke. Maybe the slight rocking motion of the boat had helped. “You found me. Was it the snoring?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Sure was. It’s kind of cute in a frightening way.” No one had ever said my snoring was cute in any way. He loosened more of the tarp and joined me as I sat up. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth and tried to rearrange my hair by combing my fingers through it. I smelled like a smoker at a barbecue place. And there was Rhett looking so delicious. Smelling so delicious. He handed me the sack, which I peeked in. Yum. Two burritos were tucked in there. Rhett sat down beside me. He placed a cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee on the floor.

  “I’ll trade you a coffee for a burrito,” he said.

  “Deal. What time is it?” The sun was shining.

  “Eight, sleepyhead.”

  The fire was out by one forty-five this morning, the fans pulled by two thirty. It had been after three when I got here. “You have too much energy for someone who didn’t get much sleep. No rest for the wicked?”

  “The righteous don’t need any.” He smiled and took a bite of his burrito.

  I sipped my coffee and dug into my food. “Maria is a goddess when it comes to cooking.” I’d wanted another burrito ever since I’d eaten my first the other day. But I hadn’t taken the time to go back.

  “She is. How are you doing this morning?”

  “No permanent harm. I’d like to say no foul, but what happened at the house was a foul. A bad one.” And I was scared. First finding Elwell, then the truck almost running me off the road, and now a fire. A dolphin swam by the boat, its back arching out of the water, reminding me that life always combined the ugly bits with some beau
ty.

  “Any idea who did it?” he asked.

  I shrugged, my mouth full of burrito. After I swallowed, I spoke again. “What were you going to tell me about Vivi last night?”

  “So, you aren’t going to answer my question?”

  “You go first. Age before beauty,” I quipped.

  “Ouch. That hurts.” Rhett grinned.

  Like he didn’t know he was beautiful. I really didn’t know how old he was.

  “I’m not sure it matters.”

  “You seemed concerned yesterday, so why not just tell me?” A breeze rustled through my hair. It reminded me of the first time I’d met him, right here. Of my finding Elwell and of him telling me we didn’t need to tell the deputy he found me sleeping right here on Boone’s boat. Why would he think that needed to be kept secret? Was it really to protect me from blame for Elwell’s death?

  And why had I gone along with his suggestion that I’d just been out for a run. My humiliation at having no place to stay had overcome my common sense to tell the truth. That, and the worry that I’d be suspect number one if they knew I’d slept out here. It’s always easier to blame the new person than think someone you knew well could do something so horrible. I watched Rhett out of the corner of my eye. He seemed decent enough. Maybe I’d been wrong to distrust him.

  “Someone is out to get Vivi,” he said.

  This wasn’t news to me. But not just Vivi, me too. But to what end? What would setting up Vivi for Elwell’s murder and getting rid of me do for someone? The bar! Was that it? The land it sat on had to be valuable. I wasn’t so sure about the business. It made me wonder about Wade and the Briny Pirate. Had he had any threats against him? I didn’t want to share any of that with Rhett. I still didn’t know him well enough. I wasn’t sure I knew anyone here well enough to talk through this.

  “That seems fairly obvious.” I didn’t mean to sound so sarcastic. I guess I was pinning a lot of hopes on Rhett knowing something that would be helpful. Now it was my turn to ask the questions. “Do you know who?” He was a local. If anyone should have an idea about what was going on, it would be someone who’d lived here a long time. Unless these people were all too close to one another.

  “I don’t.”

  “No guesses?”

  “I’m not a guessing kind of guy.”

  “So that’s all you wanted to say?” I sounded more confident than I felt. I still worried about Vivi’s argument that I’d overheard at the Sea Glass. I didn’t want to believe Vivi had anything to do with Elwell’s death, but even after my talk with Vivi and Joaquin I had doubts.

  Rhett gazed across the harbor. “You know our families have a feud going back years.”

  “I’m not part of Vivi’s family. There’s no ‘our’ when it comes to me.”

  “But you’re working for Vivi. Standing up for Vivi. So the feud extends to you.”

  “Do you want to explain that feud to me?” It was a little off topic. At least I thought it was. All I knew was that Vivi had stolen Elwell from his grandmother, but surely there must be more to it than that.

  “No. You can ask my grandmother or Vivi. I’ve tried to stay out of it. Boone was a friend. A year younger than me in school, but our school wasn’t large, so we knew each other. Played sports together. After he went off to college, he’d come home full of stories about a girl named Chloe.”

  I shifted on the hot seat of the boat. “Oh.”

  “When I found you on Boone’s boat that morning and realized who you were, I did what I knew Boone would have wanted me to. And keeping that one small thing from the police was worth it.”

  “That’s what the secrets toast was about?”

  Rhett nodded. “It’s probably obstruction of justice.”

  “It is.” He reached over and brushed a crumb off my cheek. Left his hand there a moment longer than necessary. Don’t look into those dark green eyes. Remember the feud. Vivi might have softened toward me yesterday, but we still had the bar ownership to work out. And probably a lot of other things too.

  “Rhett.” I turned to see Ann Williams standing there in black shorts, with a black shirt edged with a bit of red. The hot breeze lifted her hair and she looked like Wonder Woman or a warrior princess standing there. “We need to get a move on.”

  For a brief moment, I wondered what kind of move she wanted to get on with Rhett.

  Rhett leaped up and jumped off the boat. “Sorry. I lost track of time.”

  Talk about someone jumping when called. “Ann,” I said, “there was a fire out at Boone’s last night, and the house is smoky.”

  “Is everyone okay?” she asked.

  “Yes. The fire was outside, but the inside smells like a campfire. Do you do that kind of cleanup or know someone who does?”

  Ann glanced at Rhett. “I’ll take care of it for you.”

  “Thanks,” I said. I took an extra key off the ring Joaquín had given me and handed it to her.

  Rhett gave me a quick look, like he wanted to say something and decided not to before they headed west toward his boat.

  “Thanks for the burrito and coffee,” I called after them. Rhett raised a hand in response. I cleaned up the stuff from our breakfast and finished my coffee before snapping the tarp into place. I still had questions for Rhett Barnett, but they would have to wait.

  CHAPTER 26

  Before heading back home for a shower, I walked behind the Briny Pirate and Sea Glass, around to the other side of the harbor, looking for the Emerald Cove Fishing Charters. It was another of the heritage businesses. I’d shoved aside my doubts about going. If the fire had been a message, if I caved to my fears, I’d be done.

  I found a small kiosk, but it was empty. As were the two boat slips across from it. That figured; it was prime fishing time. From what I’d observed since I’d arrived, most fishing boats came back between ten and noon, but I’d be at work by then. Maybe I could take a break and head back over here later.

  I grabbed a brochure and read through the options for going out fishing. Emerald Cove Fishing was owned by Jed Farwell. They had two large boats: an older wooden one and a new fiberglass boat. Each boat held up to one hundred eighty people, but limited the number to eighty so people could fish comfortably. Both boats had galleys and cooks onboard. Trips lasted for four, six, or ten hours. Ten hours? Yikes. They went out six to fifteen miles, depending on the length of the trip.

  They offered three types of trips—party, group, and private charters. Costs ran from sixty to one hundred dollars per person. To me, a party boat meant people drinking and dancing, but in the fishing world it meant a large number of people all going on the same boat. It was cheapest to go on a party boat, around sixty dollars. Chartering the boat for a small group ran from one to four thousand dollars. Wow. You had to be serious about fishing to do that.

  There was a bulletin board with pictures on the side of the kiosk. Lots of happy people holding up fish after they returned from their trips. A few shots on the boat with lines cast over the edge. I looked closer at a shot of a group of people being greeted by the captain as they boarded. There was Elwell with the armadillo shell on his head. So he wasn’t just wearing it to the Sea Glass. A little boy was pointing up at him. His mom leaned away from Elwell. I’d seen similar reactions to him at the Sea Glass. It made me wonder if Elwell showed up at the other heritage businesses with the armadillo on his head too. What was his endgame? It didn’t seem like anything good.

  * * *

  It was nine a.m. when I hit the end of the long drive to Boone’s house. I could already smell burned wood. It made me shudder to think what could have happened. I tossed a load of wash in on the quick-wash setting. Every piece of clothing I owned smelled like smoke. Fortunately, everything I’d brought down here with me was machine washable. I’d left all my dry-clean-only coats and dresses behind in my apartment. Rachel may have packed them by now.

  After a quick run, I showered and put on a little makeup to counter my tired-looking eyes. I put the
clothes I’d just washed in the dryer so I’d have something to wear to work. Then I grabbed an apple and took it outside. The tang of gas and the sharp smell of burned wood belied the beautiful blue sky and inviting emerald water.

  I walked around the piles of wood, looking for something to tell me who did this and why. An ID would be nice. A confession note. A cowboy hat. Anything I could point to, so the deputies could make an arrest and I could relax a little. But the only thing I saw were some little green lizards with red, bubble-like things that bulged out from under their chins at random intervals. They refused to talk about what they’d seen.

  Fifteen minutes later, as I pulled out of the drive, I passed a pink truck that said, “Stink Away—Odor Removal Service.” I waved at the woman driver as she went by. She turned down the drive to Boone’s house. I wondered if Ann owned the company along with her handywoman business or if she contracted with them. That was fast service. Ann was good at her job, and I’d have to thank her next time I saw her.

  I drove over to the glass-bottom boat, hoping I’d catch Leah Hickle between trips. “Leah,” I called when I spotted her walking between the kiosk and the boat. I was in luck. She turned and waited for me. “It’s quiet out here this morning.”

  “Someone posted a bunch of bad online reviews saying we didn’t have proper life jackets, or enough of them. And that our boat had failed its Coast Guard inspection. Another one said we were endangering the wildlife in the bay. None of it’s true, and the reviews will come down eventually, but it probably explains why, in the height of tourist season, I have a boat with only five people signed up for the next trip.”

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry. How long have the reviews been up?”