“YOU KNOW WHO KILLED KRISTOPHER? Why didn’t you tell the chief?” I looked from April to the front, where Chief Meyers was instructing a young police officer on the proper protocol for filing reports.
April scowled. Her lipstick had smeared across her chin, making her look like a drunk college student the morning after Oktoberfest. “Give me more credit than that, Sloan. I’m not an idiot. Of course, I told the chief my theory, but she doesn’t believe me. It looks bad. Really bad. Everyone saw me yelling at him last night and then he ends up dead in my office. It’s not good. We need to find evidence. Hard proof. And fast.”
“How am I supposed to do that? I’m a brewer, April, not a detective.” I pointed to my outfit.
“Sloan!” April wailed again, which made Chief Meyers whip her head around and stare at us.
“One more minute, ladies,” the chief said, tapping a black exercise tracking watch on her wrist. Chief Meyers was old-school. I was surprised to see her wearing a fitness tracker.
“Sloan,” April hissed, “you have to help me. I know that you’re not a detective, but I also know that you have an in with the chief. She admires you for some reason. I’ve never understood why, but she seems to take you into her confidence. I suppose it’s probably due to my high status in the village. You obviously don’t have the same kind of demands and pressures as I do.”
Ah, there was the April I knew. My “dear” friend who always found a way to turn a compliment into an insult.
“She trusts you,” April continued. “And I know that you and Garrett consulted with her on the unfortunate accident that happened at Nitro.” Her voice was laced with envy.
The unfortunate accident that April was referring to was actually a murder, but in true April fashion, she had reworked the story to make it more palatable for tourists. No one wants to visit a charming village where there’s been a gruesome murder, Sloan, she had said not long after the case was closed. For the sake of Leavenworth, if the topic comes up in casual conversation, let’s just say that it was a little accident.
Chief Meyers cleared her throat. “Okay, ladies. Let’s wrap it up.”
April grabbed my arm. “Sloan, please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything. I’ll owe you big time. Was I pissed at him? Yes. And I told him that to his face, but I did not kill him.”
“But I saw you after Mac broke up the fight. You were with him and a few other people at The Nutcracker Shoppe.”
She kept her hand on my arm and nodded frantically. “Yes. I was with him outside Conrad’s shop. That was the last time I saw him, I swear. I told him he had to stop this madness for the sake of Leavenworth. That was it.”
I noticed for the first time that April’s freckled forearm was scratched and cut up. “What happened to your arm?”
She yanked her arm away and covered the scratches with her other hand. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
I couldn’t help wondering if one of the reasons that the chief was keeping April was due to the cuts and scratches on her arm. Had she been in a fight? Maybe Kristopher had struggled when she killed him. I studied her. Her frilly barmaid’s dress was torn at the seam, revealing a nasty bruise on her left leg. What wasn’t she telling me?
“Look, I was supposed to meet Kris at my office early this morning,” April said, using her other hand to shield the physical evidence on her arm. “When I got there, he was already dead.”
“Okay.” The fluorescent lighting made April’s streaked makeup appear even more garish.
“No, don’t look at me like that. I can tell that you don’t believe me.” April caught me staring at the tear in her skirt and shifted in her chair so I couldn’t see the bruise.
“I didn’t say that.” However, I might have been thinking it. April’s behavior wasn’t exactly giving me confidence in her innocence.
Chief Meyers started to walk toward us.
“Sloan, please.” April clasped her hands in prayer. “Go talk to Ross. He and Kris were going at it when I left them last night. Ross is convinced that Kris was trying to get the Underground shutdown. I think he killed him. That’s a motive.”
“All right. Time’s up.” Chief Meyers tapped on her watch.
I stood. April shot me a final, pleading glance. “Talk to Ross,” she mouthed as the chief showed me to the door.
Meyers grabbed a khaki-colored police jacket from a hook by the door and walked outside with me. “Well, what do you think?”
“About April?” I shrugged. “She seems like her normal irritating self, but I did notice her arm is cut and scratched. She has a large bruise on her leg, and her dress is torn. She blew me off when I asked her about it.”
The chief frowned. “I know.”
I told her about April’s suggestion that Ross could be involved and asked her about the Underground.
“We’re looking into everything at the moment. I’m off to see Ross next, so I have no intel on what’s happening with the Underground, but I have to tell you, Sloan, that there’s some pretty incriminating evidence stacking up against April right now, not just the cuts and bruises.”
“Do you really think she could have done it?”
Chief Meyers was noncommittal. “Stranger things have happened. Not many, but you never know.”
I left feeling conflicted. It would have been smartest to leave the situation alone, and yet I felt strangely compelled to help April.
Bad idea, Sloan, I heard my inner voice respond. April Ablin is your nemesis. Would she go out of her way to help you?
Probably not, I answered back. But then again, I wasn’t sure. April was annoying, but she had shown flashes of kindness. Usually followed up with some kind of a snarky response or underhanded comment. The most appealing reason to help April wasn’t entirely selfless. If she owed me a favor, maybe I could get her off our backs once and for all about making Nitro more “in line” with Leavenworth’s aesthetic, as she constantly liked to remind us.
April had been insisting—no, demanding—that we adhere to the village’s guidelines on businesses in the downtown corridor. Much to her chagrin, we were well within our right to do whatever we determined with the interior of Nitro’s building, while ensuring that the outside façade remained a replica of a German utopia. According to city code, every commercial building in the village had to maintain a Bavarian aesthetic, but there were no regulations about interior designs. Garrett had been extremely cautious about adhering to city code when he began renovations on his great-aunt Tess’s inn. He had given the inn’s chocolate brown balcony and spires a fresh coat of paint and stained the lion’s head that was carved into the peak of the roof. From the outside, Nitro looked like it belonged in a pastoral village. The inside was where Garrett’s vision for blending his love of science and the craft of brewing came to life. I liked the fact that we got the best of both worlds—German charm and modern designs. Nitro wasn’t alone. Sure, there were a handful of businesses that went all in with the German kitsch, decking their interiors with cuckoo clocks and lederhosen, but most of our fellow business owners in the village opted for a more modern store layout inside.
I headed for the German deli. There were many unanswered questions, like how had April injured her arm if she hadn’t killed Kristopher? And why was she meeting Kristopher in her office this morning? I wished that I had had more time with her.
The deli had red, yellow, and black German flags strung above the front door. It was one of the most authentic shops in town. I weaved through rows of imported German candy—licorice, marzipan, Black Forest gummy bears. I always liked to stop and browse the interesting imports in the housewares aisle like German pottery, spätzle presses, and Feuerzangenbowle, a terracotta fire punch cup set.
There was a short line waiting for sausages and the house special—sauerkraut made daily in huge vats. A mural depicting a scene from an outdoor German market had been painted behind the deli counter. I drooled at the sight of giant cured pickles and the scent of fresh baked bread.
“Sloan, what can I get you?” the butcher asked when it was my turn. He was a portly man with a wide smile. I’d never seen him without an apron and matching white butcher’s hat.
I had been eyeing a platter of Kartoffelkloesse, simple but delicious German potato dumplings. The melt-in-your-mouth dumplings were stuffed with buttery croutons and best eaten with warm sausage gravy.
“I’ll take a double order of the dumplings with extra gravy, and a side of the red cabbage and apples.”
“Excellent choice.” The butcher packaged up my lunch order. I hoped that Kat and Garrett would enjoy a classic German feast, since I had originally suggested picking up sandwiches. I didn’t think that they would mind. One of the benefits of living in Leavenworth was the vast array of authentic Bavarian cuisine. The dumplings smelled so delicious that I briefly considered keeping them all for myself.
As I left the deli, I couldn’t stop thinking about April. Chief Meyers was right. It didn’t look good for her. If Hans hadn’t held her back, she might have pummeled Kristopher last night. Had her obsessive love for Leavenworth finally gotten the best of her?