THE NEXT MORNING, I TEXTED Mac first thing telling him we needed to talk ASAP. He responded with a heart-shaped emoji and “Miss you too, baby.”
He was trying to rattle me. I had told him at least a million times never to call me baby.
We agreed to meet at Der Keller for lunch. I wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with him, but it had to be done. After getting Alex off to school and myself organized for the day, I wanted to get to Nitro early. We had days of work ahead of us to get the upstairs transformed for guests. If I could get an early start while things were quiet, all the better.
However, as I steered my Mercedes (an old birthday present from Mac) onto Front Street, I quickly realized that there was going to be nothing quiet about the morning. News media vans lined the street. Reporters were camped out in Front Street Park near the gazebo and set up on the steps of the police station. I counted at least five vans and dozens of reporters and camera crew. Obviously, Kristopher’s murder had made headline news. Great.
I parked in front of Nitro. The air felt oppressive and strangely still after the past few days of breezy mornings. I wondered if it was the calm before the storm—literally and figuratively.
As I was getting my things out of the back of the car, I heard a harsh whisper behind me. It made me startle.
“Sloan! Sloan, over here.”
I looked around and spotted April limping toward me. She wore a baseball hat, dark sunglasses, and a black trench coat. If she was trying to look inconspicuous, she was just the opposite.
For the first time ever, she didn’t have a spot of makeup on. I could make out every freckle on her face. Instead of aging her, her clean skin gave her a more youthful appearance. She must have been in bad shape, because April without layer upon layer of makeup and sans a frilly German dress with an apron was almost unrecognizable.
“You’re free?” I tried to make a joke.
“Not funny, Sloan.” April glared at me as she limped closer.
“Sometimes humor is the best medicine.”
April clasped the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Sloan, I don’t have time for humor. I have a splitting headache, and I’m only out because Chief Meyers has me on village arrest.”
“Village arrest?” I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck.
“Yes, I’m not allowed to leave the village. I can’t even go as far as Safeway. Chief Meyers wants me within walking distance of her office.” She pushed her sunglasses down and darted her head from the left to the right. “You weren’t followed, were you?”
“Followed? I work here.” I pointed behind me to the Nitro sign hanging above the patio. “At least you’re not in jail, right? Can we talk inside? I’m freezing.”
She did another survey of the area. “Fine.”
I unlocked the front, set my things down on one of the high-top tables, and turned on the lights and heat.
“Why is it so cold in here?” April asked. Her lips had a bluish tint that matched the nasty bruise on her thigh.
“Good question.” We kept the brewery at a steady sixty-eight degrees. If the temperature got too low, it would stop the yeast from fermenting. With temps starting to drop into the thirties, it was time to adjust our heat settings.
“What’s going on, April? You asked for my help, but you’re not telling me everything. I know it. You’re limping, you’re bruised and scratched and acting like you’re in the Witness Protection Program.”
“It’s the press. I can’t let them see me like this. My reputation is at stake.” April removed her sunglasses. “I told you everything yesterday. I was supposed to meet Kristopher at my office. When I got there, he was already dead, and Chief Meyers thinks I did it.”
“I’m beginning to agree with her, April. You’re a mess. You’re obviously injured, and you refuse to tell me why. Unless you come clean, the only logical explanation I can come up with is that you killed Kristopher.”
“NO!” April responded in a shrill tone that was so loud it probably had woken Garrett and Kat. “I fell mountain biking. I’ve been trying to use extra makeup to cover up all of the bruises and scratches, but it came off. That’s all. I’ve been bruised for a couple of days. There was a tour group in town from San Francisco, and when their biking guide canceled because he had the flu, I stepped in. That’s what I do. I would do anything for this town, you know that, Sloan. It’s my duty as Leavenworth’s ambassador.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like kill off the one person threatening to change our way of life.”
“No! How many times do I have to say it? I did not kill Kris.” Her voice wavered, like she was about to cry.
I moved toward the bar and flipped on more lights. April followed me.
“Why are you being so weird about falling on your mountain bike? Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning?”
April sat on a barstool. “Because it’s embarrassing.”
“More embarrassing than being arrested for murder?”
She rested her chin on her hands. “No, I told Chief Meyers what happened on the bike. She had to do her ‘due diligence,’ as she called it, and track down the tour group to confirm my story. I didn’t say anything because I bruised my body and my pride.”
I walked behind the bar and opened a canister of coffee beans. If I was going to deal with April this early, I needed more coffee. We kept a stash of coffee, teas, and assorted fancy sodas for designated drivers and anyone who didn’t imbibe. “April, I was watching the news last night and they showed old footage from Kristopher’s first campaign.”
Any color that was in her face evaporated.
“I saw you,” I said as I scooped coffee into the industrial pot and added water. “You were standing next to him—wearing one of his campaign T-shirts, and you’re the only person in town who calls him Kris. If you want my help, you have to start being honest with me.”
“It’s not what it looks like.” She gnawed on her fingernails, which were still painted with mini Oktoberfest flags.
“What is it, then? You either have to tell me everything or go find someone else to help you.”
“No, no, please. I can explain.”
Seeing April beg was poetic justice.
“You’re right. I did campaign for Kris, but that was many, many years ago. I was just starting my career. I was working as an administrative assistant for the real estate office, and the owner, who I eventually bought the business from, was a good friend of Kris’s. He was a backer of Kris’s campaign, and I volunteered. I went door-to-door. It was great exposure for me. Working on his campaign launched my career. It cemented me in Leavenworth. I owed him for that.”
“I don’t understand.” The coffee started to percolate, filling the cavernous bar with a wonderful aroma.
“When I first met Kris, I was impressed with his values and his vision for growing our community. Over time, our visions of Leavenworth’s future veered in very different directions. I sympathized with his frustrations, don’t get me wrong. I know that the festivals bring in a certain level of unwanted outcomes—like extra garbage and excessive drinking. But without them, we would be bankrupt. Kris and I met on more than one occasion, and I tried to negotiate with him to find a middle ground and some viable solutions for better crowd management, but he wouldn’t budge.”
“Is that why you were meeting with him yesterday?”
April lifted one hand, then the other as if weighing the question. “I suppose in part. Kris was getting ready to run a last-ditch advertising campaign. He knew he was trailing Valerie, but he thought that he had a secret weapon.” April paused and pointed to her chest. “Me. He found that old footage that you saw in the news, and he wanted to rerun it with an updated slogan about how Leavenworth’s welcome wagon has endorsed him for over twenty years.”
“Let me guess, you didn’t give him permission to use your endorsement?” I removed two ceramic coffee cups from the open shelves next to the taps and then found a carton of cream in the mini fridge.
“No way.” April looked aghast. “Can you imagine? He wouldn’t listen. He was going to run the ads without my consent. I told him that if he did, I would take him to court.” She pressed her hand lightly on the bruise.
“Did he back off?”
April shook her head. “No. That’s why we were going to meet yesterday. I had consulted an attorney. I planned to give Kris a cease-and-desist order. That’s why Chief Meyers has focused her attention on me.”
“Motive,” I replied. Without asking, I poured her a cup of coffee and added a splash of cream. I set it in front of her and then poured a cup for myself.
“Thanks.” April wrapped her hands around the cup. “Yes, but I’ve explained that he didn’t have a legal leg to stand on. Why would I kill him when the only thing I needed to do was hand him a piece of paper?”
Fact-check that later, I thought to myself. To April, I said, “Or why wouldn’t you just come out and say what you said to me if Kristopher had gone forward with the ad campaign? Everyone in town would have understood that your views had changed.”
April frowned. “I guess, but I wasn’t about to let Kris take advantage of my celebrity status like that.”
Celebrity status? I choked back a snicker. Don’t go there, Sloan.
“As you can see, it’s all circumstantial evidence,” April continued. “Chief Meyers doesn’t have anything on me, which is why she had to release me.”
“That’s good news, then. You don’t have anything to worry about.” I leaned against the back of the bar and sipped my coffee.
“Oh, go slow, Sloan. You’re not getting off that easy. You made a promise to help me.”
Had I promised? Or was April trying to get me on a technicality?
“You have to help figure out who the real killer is. I won’t let my stunning reputation as Leavenworth’s ambassador be tarnished by this terrible affair. Have you spoken to Ross yet?”
“Not yet.”
“What have you been doing while I’ve been stuck in jail this entire time?” Her hands remained glued to the coffee cup. She hadn’t taken a sip.
“This ‘entire time’ is only a single day, April. And for your information, I’ve been working.”
She scoffed. “Working? You mean brewing beer? That’s hardly a top priority. There’s been a murder in town and your best friend is accused of doing it, and instead of pouring every ounce of energy into solving the case, you’ve been pouring pints?”
April, my best friend? Oh, good lord, help me.
“I can’t have anything to do with this. In fact, I think it would be wise if we weren’t seen around the village together for the next few days. That way no one will suspect that we’re working together. Start with Ross. I’m telling you he had it out for Kris and he was strong enough to do it.”
“What do you mean strong enough?” My curiosity was piqued.
She finally took a sip of the coffee. I recognized the strategy all too well. She was trying to buy time to formulate her words. “I mean in terms of killing him.”
I frowned. “Yeah, thanks.”
“Okay, here’s the thing. I had two—no three—strikes against me. That’s why the chief arrested me. Kris was killed in my office, I had a nasty fall and look like I’ve been in a fight.”
“And number three?” I refilled my cup.
She cracked her knuckles. “They think he was killed with something that belongs to me. They haven’t found the murder weapon yet, but they’re convinced they know what it was.”
“What is it?”
April’s shoulders heaved. “My ceremonial ribbon cutting scissors. I overheard the chief on the phone. They think that there was an argument that turned violent, and that Kris’s killer grabbed whatever was nearby. That happened to be my ribbon cutting scissors. They can’t find my scissors. They’re missing. The chief has asked me a million times when I saw them last. I can’t remember.” She looked to me for moral support.
“Those giant scissors?” I flashed to a memory of a picture of April at the grand opening of The Nutcracker Shoppe, holding a pair of silver scissors that must have been two feet long.
“Yes, I loved those scissors. They symbolize our wonderful business community here in the village. When I got to my office that morning, I noticed that there was a sun-bleached outline on the wall where the scissors usually hang, but I didn’t take them down. The killer must have yanked them off the wall.” She pressed her nearly full cup of coffee back to me and stood up. “I have to go. See what you can learn from Ross and let’s meet in my office later. Use the back entrance.” With that she left.
It might have been a mistake, but I believed her. Her story made sense, and no one in Leavenworth had a bigger ego than April. Plus, I had learned something very valuable—how Kristopher had been killed.
I dumped April’s coffee into the sink. What had I gotten myself into? April wasn’t going to let this go. I was committed now. The only good thing was that she wanted to keep a low profile. That was fine by me. The less we saw of one another, the better for me. And the faster I figured out who killed Kristopher, the sooner April would be out of my hair.