THE NEXT MORNING, I WOKE up in a fog. It felt like I had a hangover. My head throbbed. I was nauseous and in a daze. My only saving grace was that Alex had to be at school early to meet his study group before their health exam. I barely registered the drive to school or dropping him off. I probably shouldn’t have been behind the wheel.
When I arrived in the village, I found myself parking in front of the bakery and wondering how I had gotten there.
It was hours before Garrett would be up. I might as well stop in at Strudel for a coffee and pastry. The only way I was going to survive the day was by keeping myself distracted and as busy as possible. There was one obvious way to do that—focus on Kristopher’s murder. It had absolutely nothing to do with my personal life, thank God.
Once I had a latte and two apple strudels in hand, I walked down to Chief Meyers’s office. I wasn’t sure if she would be in the village yet, but it was worth a shot. I could fill her in on what I had learned from Ross and Valerie and see if she had any other news on Kristopher’s murder that she might be able to share. Plus, I needed to kill time before I called Sally. It was only 7 a.m. As much as I wanted to pick up the phone, I decided the civilized thing to do was to wait at least until eight before placing a call to my former case worker.
The police station lights were on. I took that as a good sign that the chief might be in. I knew that Chief Meyers had a weak spot for strudel, so I hoped that my sweet bribe might make her more willing to fill me in on the latest with the investigation.
I knocked softly on the door.
Chief Meyers’s deep voice bellowed, “It’s open.”
“Morning, Chief.” I stepped inside. “I was at the bakery and picked up an extra apple strudel. Can I interest you in a breakfast treat?”
“I never turn down a strudel.” She motioned for me to come behind the counter to her desk.
“Neither do I,” I said as I handed her a paper bag with the German delicacy. “It’s un-American. Or, actually, un-Leavenworthian? Is that a thing?”
Chief Meyers unwrapped the pastry. The flaky strudel was layered with apples sautéed in cinnamon and sugar and chopped walnuts. The top had been brushed with an egg wash and dusted with thick chunks of crystallized sugar. “What are you doing out and about this early?”
I explained how Alex had midterms.
She ripped off a piece of the strudel. “That’s why I’ve seen so many teens hanging around the gazebo at lunchtime. I was about to send one of my guys to make sure we didn’t have a bunch of delinquents running around the village.”
“That’s only during Oktoberfest,” I joked.
“Got any news for me?” She reached for a yellow legal pad and a pencil.
“How did you know?”
She gave me a skeptical stare. “Out with it.”
I proceeded to tell her what I had learned from Ross and Valerie. Chief Meyers scribbled a few notes as I spoke. When I finished, she set down the pencil and took another bite of the strudel.
“Have you learned any more information that you can share?” I asked, knowing it was unlikely that Chief could tell me much.
“Your intel on Ross matches what we’ve learned about the state liquor board reviewing his license. Apparently, Kristopher was not the first person to report the Underground for serving minors. Ross could be in some serious trouble, depending on what we learn from our contacts at the board.”
“Really?” I was shocked by this news. “What kind of trouble?”
“According to one of my sources, Ross has been on a watch list for a while. He’s in danger of having his license permanently revoked. There have been dozens of reports of misconduct, overserving, serving minors. I don’t know what’s been going on at the Underground, but it’s given the bar’s name new meaning. I’ve got one of my officers keeping an eye out there while we wait for copies of the reports from the state liquor board.”
“I saw Ross arguing with someone about keeping the bar open. Was that one of your officers?”
The chief scowled. “Nope. Not my guy.”
I took a bite of my strudel, but like last night, stress had deadened my taste buds. “I can’t believe that. Ross has always been so professional.”
Chief Meyers shrugged. “Sloan, if I’ve learned anything in this line of work, it’s that people show you what they want to show you and nothing more. There’s no gray area when it comes to serving minors. If Ross has been breaking the law, he deserves to lose everything, and I’ll be the first one to tell him so.”
“I agree.” We took state regulations seriously at Nitro, as did every pub and brewery owner I knew. I couldn’t believe that Ross had knowingly been serving minors. It made me wonder if I had written him off as a potential suspect too soon. Maybe since Kristopher had been so vocal about the issue, Ross had decided to silence him permanently.
“So it wasn’t just Kristopher leading the charge against him?”
The chief finished her strudel. “Kristopher was leading the charge, that’s for sure. He filed a number of reports with us. We didn’t take them very seriously because of the other trouble that he’d been stirring up. I figured he was trying to make an example of Ross in order to lend support to his cause, but we’re going to go back through the old reports and compare them with what we learn from the state.”
“Wow, I’m really surprised by that. Like I said, Ross has always struck me as being very professional.” Who was I kidding? After having my world turned upside down by Ursula last night, my judgment should not be trusted.
“You want this?” I passed my strudel to Chief Meyers. “I’m not hungry.”
She glanced at her fitness watch and then to the flaky pastry. “Aw, why not?”
“What about April?” I asked as she helped herself to a bite.
“She’s still on my list.” The chief gave me a funny look.
“For real?”
“All I can say is that she is still officially on my list.” She didn’t elaborate, but from the emphasis she put on “officially,” I had a feeling she was speaking in code.
One of her deputies arrived for his shift. The chief clammed up. I told her I would continue to stay on alert and let her know if I learned anything new. I left the office and wandered aimlessly. Had Ross really been overserving and serving minors? If Kristopher had found proof, that could give Ross a strong motive for murder. To be honest, I hadn’t spent much time at the Underground. It was popular amongst tourists because of its atmosphere. Maybe I’d stop by for lunch later and see if I could learn anything from his bartending staff.
The light crews were already at work a few blocks away. I wondered if the thousands of tourists who would come to see our village illuminated for the holidays had any idea how much preparation went into the event. There wasn’t any sign of the press. They were either getting a slow start or a bigger and better story had broken elsewhere.
I made my way to the gazebo. I had to call Sally. We had something tangible to work with—names, a potential arrest record, and the fact that it was highly likely I was in Leavenworth in the 1970s.
The bench was cool to the touch. I closed my eyes and took a long, slow breath before calling Sally. My heart pounded in my chest as the phone rang. I wanted to tell Sally everything Ursula had told me last night, but we had agreed to keep our phone conversations to surface topics. Sally had suggested that until we found out how deep the cover-up of my parents’ identity ran, it would be better to discuss important details and our plans in person.
She didn’t answer. I hesitated. Should I leave a message?
At the last minute, I decided to leave a very upbeat message about Alex’s soccer game, midterms, and preparing for the light festival. I invited her to come out for a weekend to see the display in person. If anyone was tapping her phone (and it was more likely that we were both being overly paranoid), they wouldn’t be able to get anything from my message.
Now what? I wasn’t ready to head to Nitro yet, but there wasn’t much open in the village short of the pastry and coffee shops. I thought about taking a morning walk to Blackbird Island, but I noticed Heidi pull into a parking spot across the street in front of her hotel, the Hamburg Hostel. I decided to go say good morning. The Hamburg reminded me of Hansel and Gretel’s cottage, with intentionally weathered stucco and storybook architecture where none of the rooflines are straight or plumb.
I got up and crossed the street. “Hi, Heidi,” I called.
Her arms were loaded with bags. “Good morning, Sloan.”
“Can I help with that?” I asked, pointing to the back of Heidi’s truck, where a dozen more paper bags had been stacked on top of each other.
“Would you mind?” She shifted one of the bags in her arms. “They’re not heavy. There’s just a ton of them. It’s a fun holiday project I’ve been working on at home for our guests coming for the winter light festival. Take a look.”
I opened one bag and was immediately engulfed in the scent of holiday spices.
“Aren’t they cute?” Heidi asked. “I made individual packets of mulling spice. We’ll leave them in each guest room as a little holiday gift. Guests can either add them to their tea while they stay or take them home as a memento.”
“They smell amazing,” I said, reaching for a handful of bags.
“You should smell my dining room. I was up until midnight assembling the last of them.” Heidi looped the bag over her arm.
The Hamburg was one of the smaller, boutique properties in town. Heidi had owned it for as long as I had known her. She went beyond the call of duty for her guests, offering them personalized service and add-ons like her handmade mulling packets. It was one of the many reasons that the hotel was booked year-round. That and its whimsical, unique design. The front of the property had a picket fence, moat, and small pond. At Halloween time, Heidi played upon the hotel’s fairy-tale theme and decorated the grounds with oversized spiders and cobwebs draped from the dark wooden shutters.
“Go ahead and put those on the front welcome counter,” Heidi directed me as we entered the hotel. Inside the hotel, the fanciful theme continued with garlands of ceramic sweets intertwined along the wood-beamed ceiling, a gothic chandelier, and gleaming hardwood floors.
I set the fragrant spice packets on the welcome desk carved in a baroque style. Then we returned to her car to get the rest of them.
“Now I’m craving mulled wine,” I said. The scent reminded me of the village during the winter light festival, where I would stroll through vendor booths in Front Street Park, sampling sugar doughnuts, fried potato pancakes, and steaming mugs of what Otto and Ursula called Glühwein—which, literally translated, meant “glow wine.” It was made with citrus fruits, spices, and sugar and served at traditional Christmas markets.
Heidi reached into one of the bags and tossed me a few packets. “Take some. They’re great in wine, and actually I tried one in my morning coffee with a splash of cream and a couple tablespoons of dark chocolate syrup. It was amazing.”
“That does sound good.” I took a whiff of the spices. Heidi had included whole cloves, cinnamon sticks, star anise, and dried orange peels. “We’ve been playing around with making a beer inspired by mulled spiced wine.”
“You should do that. I bet it would be a huge hit, especially at the Christmas markets.” She pointed down a hallway that was adorned with travel style posters from the German Alps, more of the hand-painted candy garland, and prints of German cottages. “Do you want to come to my office for a minute?”
“Sure. As long as I’m not keeping you. Are you headed for a workout?” I noted her yoga pants and warm-up jacket.
“No. I’ve already worked out. I’m up at the crack of dawn. Once I got serious about exercise and weight loss last year, I made a commitment to exercise daily. Since I’m so swamped with the hotel, the only time I have is in the early morning. I’ve gotten used to it. The good thing about being up at the crack of dawn is that the gym is never packed. Usually it’s just me, Ross, and—well, it used to be Kristopher.”
“Got it.” I followed after her, tucking the spices into my purse. I filed that piece of information into my head for later.
Heidi’s office was upstairs at the end of another long hallway. She expertly weaved past guests, greeting everyone by name and encouraging them to partake of breakfast, which was being served in the charming dining room. I almost considered inviting myself to breakfast. The buffet looked tempting, with platters of pastries, sausages, and fruits. Guests savored coffee and tea in front of a roaring stone fireplace.
When we arrived at her office, she opened the door and waited for me go in.
There were more ski travel posters, along with the sketches from the original architectural plans for the Hamburg Hostel on the walls. International magazine articles, touting the property for its incredible German hospitality, location, and comfortable beds had been framed on the bookcase behind Heidi’s desk.
“Have a seat. Can I get you anything—tea, coffee?” Heidi pointed to an expensive coffee maker near her desk.
“No, thank you. I’m fine.” I took a seat.
She made herself a cup of tea.
“The hotel looks amazing. I haven’t been inside since the renovations.” I had watched progress on the Hamburg over the last few months. The hotel had undergone major updates including electrical, plumbing, and a new roof.
“We’re pleased with the end result, but the remodel process was not fun.” Heidi sat down and cleared a space for her tea. She pushed aside a stack of papers, which I realized were Kristopher’s campaign posters.
Without thinking, I pointed at the stack. “Were you campaigning for Kristopher?”
She looked shocked for a second. Then she picked up the stack and dumped it into a recycling bin next to her desk. “God, no. He wanted me to, but I refused. Can you imagine what would have happened to our bookings if he had managed to win the election? As of right now, we are booked every weekend through the end of the winter light festival in March. If Kristopher’s ridiculous plan had been approved, I guarantee nearly every guest on the upcoming calendar would have canceled their stay.”
We had been over this before, but I nodded anyway.
“I told him that he was going to single-handedly ruin everything we had worked so hard to build in Leavenworth when he was here the other night,” Heidi continued.
I didn’t react, but I wondered if Heidi had slipped up. What did she mean, that he was here the other night? Kristopher had been at the Hamburg Hostel? Why?
If she had slipped, she didn’t notice. “He and I went round and round for ages. It was so maddening. He refused to listen to any reasonable argument. He was dead set on banning alcohol. And it doesn’t make sense, because Kristopher loved Leavenworth. That much I truly believe. But why did a man who loved this village so much want to destroy it? That’s what I can’t get past. I was fuming. He didn’t have a good response. He just kept repeating over and over again that he had his reasons.”
Since she had mentioned twice now that Kristopher had been in her office, I figured it was fair game to ask a few follow-up questions.
“When was Kristopher here?”
Heidi’s eyes bulged. “Um, uh. He stopped by after the town meeting.”
“Why?”
She picked up a pen with the Hamburg Hostel’s logo etched on the side and clicked it open and shut. “Uh, well, he…” She paused for a minute as if trying to think of an excuse why Kristopher would have been in her office on the night that he was killed. “He dropped off that stack of campaign flyers.” She pointed the pen toward the recycling bin. “It was pretty forward of him, if you ask me. He had to have known that everyone was at the town meeting, and I guess he decided that he would make a last-ditch effort with the business owners here in the village to try and sway us. It didn’t work. I told him I wasn’t budging. Unless he changed his stance on alcohol, I wasn’t about to vote for him.”
“He was campaigning after the meeting?” Something about her story didn’t add up.
Heidi nodded. “Yeah, ballsy, isn’t it? I came back after leaving Der Keller to grab more supplies for the mulling spices, and Kristopher happened to be here. He was trying to convince my front desk staff to hang up the flyers. He told them that I had approved it and I was a huge campaign contributor.”
“Was that true?”
“All lies. I called Kristopher out in front of my staff. I told him that if he ever pulled a dirty, sneaky stunt like that again, I would call Chief Meyers and have him arrested.” She twisted the zipper on her warm-up jacket.
“And how did he respond?”
“He shrugged it off. It was bizarre, Sloan. I swear that he thought he was actually going to win.”
“Really?” No one I had spoken to about Kristopher thus far had mentioned anything about him thinking he had a shot at the election.
“I assumed he was delusional, but now I’ve started to rethink that. What if he had something on Valerie? I wouldn’t put it past him to have tried something ugly at the end. I don’t know, maybe I’m just imagining things, but our conversation was weird. He didn’t act like a man about to lose.”
Heidi’s phone rang. I took that as my excuse to duck out. I wasn’t sure what to believe. She had met with him in private the night he died. I got the sense there had been more to their conversation that she had withheld. Her perspective on Valerie lined up with what I already knew, but then again maybe she was trying to shift the focus from herself.
I sighed and left for Nitro. Maybe brewing would clear my head and give me a fresh perspective on who in this quaint, calm village could have murdered Kristopher.