“WOW, THAT WAS FAST,” GARRETT commented when I returned with lunch.
“It would have been even faster, had I not had the good fortune to bump into April Ablin.”
He let out a low whistle. “Oh, sorry.”
I set the box from the Wursthouse on one of the high-top tables and walked behind the bar to grab napkins and plates. “Can I use you as a sounding board?”
“Hit me.” Garrett poured us beers. “Actually, I’m glad you asked because it seems like you’ve kind of been in your head this morning. I was going to ask you if everything was okay.”
“It’s the murder investigation. I can’t get it out of my head.” That was half true. I told him about my one-sided conversation with April. Then I filled him in on my talk with Heidi and what I had learned about Ross.
“You’ve been busy, Sloan. How have you managed to find this all out while still working? Are you running a secret detective agency in the back alley?”
“It feels like it.” I unloaded the sausages and sides. “What do you think I should do?”
“First, you should definitely fill in Chief Meyers, but April might be on to something about having you reach out to Heidi again. One thing I’ve learned since moving to Leavenworth is that people in a small town talk to their neighbors in a way that never happened in Seattle.” He paused and brought over the first beer. “You know, I think in all of the years that I lived in my condo, I maybe spoke to my neighbors twice. Can you imagine that here?”
“It sounds dreamy.”
“Maybe. There’s something to be said for connection, though.”
“That’s why I’m wondering if I should leave this to the chief.”
He poured another pint. “You definitely need to share this with her, but I think April’s right about Heidi potentially confiding in you versus an authority figure.”
“Don’t say that to Alex. He is under the impression that I am the authority figure.”
Garrett laughed. “You are. Trust me. That’s why I think there’s a possibility Heidi will spill whatever she’s hiding—or not—to you. You don’t do drama, Sloan. Everyone around here knows and appreciates that. You aren’t prone to hysterics or one to spread gossip. People understand that they can come to you in confidence.”
“Thanks.” I was touched by his words, but unsure about how to proceed. If only he knew the range of emotions swirling inside me.
Kat came downstairs drenched in sweat and wearing a big grin. “I got that last section done. Only one room to go.”
“Cheers to that.” Garrett set another pint glass on the table. “Can I pour you a beer?”
“No thanks.” Kat pulled up a barstool. “I don’t know how you guys can drink a pint at lunch and go back to work no problem.”
“It’s brewer’s code,” Garrett said.
“Yeah, and years of required drinking on the job,” I agreed.
We dove into the sausages. I was glad I had opted to go with an assortment and ordered extra sides, because a half hour later, there wasn’t a crumb left on the table.
“All right, how do we want to divide up the afternoon?” Garrett asked, tossing his napkin in the garbage.
“If you don’t mind, I’m kind of into this project,” Kat said. “I’d like to see it through, but if you want me to open the tasting room, that’s totally cool too.”
“You won’t get any argument from me,” I said with a wink.
“I’ll come help you with the rest of the heavy lifting,” Garrett said to Kat and then turned to me. “As long as you don’t mind being on bar duty this afternoon?”
“Mind? Never.”
They went upstairs. I cleared our lunch dishes, readied the tasting room, propped the chalkboard sign on the sidewalk, and opened the front door. The early November sun filtered through the windows.
It was a slow start. Only a few customers trickled in for the first two hours. Normally I wouldn’t have minded, but without being busy, thoughts of my conversation with Ursula kept intruding. I focused on organizing the bar, not that it needed it, but I had to give my hands something to do.
Conrad, the owner of Leavenworth’s second nutcracker shop, came in around three. He walked up to the bar with purpose. “I need a beer, the hardest beer you have.”
“Hardest?” Beer wasn’t categorized in the same way as hard alcohol. There were beers that had a higher ABV content. A double IPA or even a triple IPA might have 10 percent alcohol versus a light session ale that might only contain 4 percent.
“Whatever is the strongest. It’s been a rough day.”
“We don’t have anything with a high ABV on tap at the moment.”
“Fine. Then give me a pint of the Pucker Up.”
I poured Conrad his pint. “Is there anything I can help with?”
He chugged the beer. “No. I don’t think so; it’s just been a bad day. I’m sure a few pints of this will take off the edge.”
I wanted to caution him that chugging our hop-forward IPA was likely going to make him feel worse. Our craft beers were meant for sipping.
Conrad tapped his fingers on the rim of the pint glass. “Have you heard anything more about Kristopher’s murder?”
“Not really.” I wasn’t going to share what I knew with Conrad, especially in his semi-erratic state.
“Me neither.” He took two huge swigs of the beer. “Although I did hear a rumor that it had something to do with money.”
“You did?” I kept my face passive.
He barely made eye contact. “Did you know that he was investing in a bunch of Leavenworth businesses on the side? He kept it on the down-low, because can you say ‘conflict of interest’? He was an elected official. He couldn’t go around secretly dumping money into local businesses without disclosing that publicly. That’s unethical and against city council bylaws.”
“Who told you this?”
Conrad shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s all over town.”
Was April floating the rumor, or was there real merit to it?
“Do you know what businesses he had invested in?”
Conrad finished his pint and handed me his empty glass. “Can I get another?”
I turned to pour him a fresh pint. When I handed it back to him, I couldn’t resist a word of caution. “Be careful. Our IPAs have a tendency to sneak up on you.”
“I can handle it.” He took a huge drink to prove his point.
Maybe he could, but if he guzzled this second pint in the same time he had polished off the first, I could refuse to serve him.
“Did you happen to hear what businesses he was financially involved with?” I asked again.
“No. It’s all rumor and speculation, I guess. It sounds like he had interest in more than one business in town. Someone told me in dozens.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said under my breath.
“What?”
“Nothing.” I picked up a towel. “I need to go wipe down a couple tables.” I left him with his pint and went to clear a table that had been vacated. Why would Kristopher have invested in Leavenworth businesses only to then propose legislation to prohibit alcohol? The two seemed to be in conflict with each other. Every business in the village (regardless if they sold or distributed alcohol) would be impacted by such a drastic change. What was Kristopher’s endgame? It didn’t add up.
I cleared the table and wiped it down. When I returned to the bar, Conrad had chugged the rest of his second pint. He slapped a twenty-dollar bill on the bar. “I need to get back to the store. Thanks for the drink.”
At least he had cut himself off. I watched him power-walk toward the door. Why was he so upset about Kristopher investing in local businesses? Not that I blamed him. He was right about it being a conflict of interest, and if that information had gotten out before the election, that likely would have sealed the deal for his imminent loss.
I couldn’t figure out why Kristopher would have put money into businesses only to jeopardize their livelihoods. I had to be missing something. If what Conrad had told me was true, it was looking much more plausible that Heidi could be the killer.
Could she have killed Kristopher to save the Hamburg? I tried to reason through what might have happened to come up with some kind of a theory—even if it was far-fetched. If I assumed that Kristopher had secretly invested in the hotel as a silent partner and then Heidi learned of his intention to make Leavenworth dry, that gave her two potential motives. Kristopher’s death would ensure that tourists kept pouring into town, and it also silenced his voice in her business decisions. I wondered what the terms of her contract with him had been.
There was another possibility. It was outlandish, but I couldn’t dismiss it. What if Kristopher had a bigger plan and Heidi figured it out? What his plan could have been, I had no idea, but if he was scheming to ruin Leavenworth as we knew it and Heidi realized it, she could have decided to kill him.
I let out a long sigh. My theories were becoming wilder with every passing minute. The other thing I had to take into consideration was that, in the unlikely circumstance that Kristopher’s secret investments spoke to something more sinister for the village, it put April back on the top of my suspect list. No one would protect Leavenworth like April. If Kristopher was plotting a total town revamp, then April had a clear motive.
I picked up Conrad’s empty glass. There was only one way to find out. I was going to have to speak with Heidi again. I didn’t know if she would tell me anything, but I had to give it a shot.