Death on Tap Page 14

  Glaring at me through her clumpy mascara, she scowled. “Since when?”

  “Since I don’t know. A while, I guess, because Garrett’s been using his hops.”

  “Impossible.” April’s jaw tightened. “I know every business in Chelan County. I’ve never heard of him.”

  I shifted Bruin’s menu into my right hand. “I don’t know what to tell you, April, but he’s been around town for the last few days. Did you need something?”

  Without answering, she glanced at the menu. “What do you have there?”

  “Nothing. It’s a menu.”

  “That looks like Bruin’s menu. Are you planning something with him? Is he thinking of joining forces with Garrett? Oh my goodness, please tell me that he’s finally going to do something with that eyesore he calls a pub. I told him a million times that Eddie was terrible for business—all of those hideous tattoos. You know he wanted Bruin to turn the place into a hipster joint. Isn’t that what they call them? Seattle is crawling with them. Can you imagine? Here in Leavenworth?” Her words were so rapid, I could barely distinguish them.

  “Chill.” I gave her a hard look. “I borrowed a menu, that’s all.”

  “That’s not all!” She pursed her lips and stared at me as if willing me to divulge some deep dark secret. “What is going on? Why do you have his menu?”

  “April, seriously, nothing. I wanted to look over his menu. That’s it.” She was exhausting when I was at my best, and this wasn’t a good time. I wanted nothing more than to tell her off, but I knew that antagonizing her would only make things worse.

  “You’re up to something, Sloan, I can tell. And I’ll have you know that it’s my duty and responsibility to this community to keep everyone informed of what’s going on in town.”

  “That’s great, but unfortunately, there’s nothing going on.”

  She pursed her lips together so tightly it made my mouth hurt. “This isn’t over, Sloan. I’m going to find out what you’re up to one way or another.”

  “Go for it.” I shrugged. “I need to get to work.”

  “I know you’re lying,” she called as I flung open the front door.

  The woman was maddening. No one—other than Mac—could get under my skin like April Ablin.

  Garrett threw his hands up in surrender as I stomped inside. “Easy, what’s wrong?”

  “Sorry.” I blew out a long breath of anger. “I bumped into April outside.”

  “Yeah. She was here.” He turned and pointed with his thumb to a basket sitting on the bar. It was packed with kitschy German trinkets and tied with a gaudy red, yellow, and black plaid bow. “A gift from the welcome wagon.”

  “There’s a sweet group of ladies who volunteer to welcome people to town. Der Keller has donated coupons for a free beer tasting for years. In fact, it would be a good marketing opportunity for us. We can print up tickets for a tasting or free appetizer to include in the welcome packages. It’s a good way to get exposure and new people through the door.”

  “I didn’t see any coupons in the basket,” Garrett said.

  “That’s because April is her own welcome wagon. She brought that for you to try to get the scoop on what’s going on. Seriously, she is the biggest gossip around, and I’m sure that’s a not-so-subtle hint that she wants you to German up this place.”

  “Ha!” Garrett laughed. “Don’t worry, she didn’t get any gossip from me.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a smile. “Sorry. I don’t know why she bugs me so much. Usually, I can get along with anyone.”

  “I know the type.” Garrett walked to the bar and untied the bow. “Want to see what she brought us?”

  “Not us. That’s all you.” I followed him to the bar.

  The basket contained German mustard, sausages, pretzels, jam, a green felt hat, a beer stein, a nutcracker, and dozens of other local items. It looked as if April had bought one of everything from each store in town. She was really trying to impress Garrett.

  “Nice.” I grinned and picked up a bottle opener in the shape of a nutcracker. “This will come in handy.”

  He laughed. “I’ve always wanted one of those.”

  “Leave it to April. She has a way of knowing exactly what everyone in town wants, or at least what she thinks they want.” I could hear the bitterness in my tone.

  “Don’t let her get under your skin,” Garrett said, tossing the bottle opener back into the basket. “Do you think we can regift this stuff? We could give it away as brewery prizes.”

  I raised one eyebrow. “I love it, and if word gets to April that you’re giving away her German basket, I’ll love it even more.”

  “Let’s do it.” He picked up the felt hat. “I think this should be the first thing to go.”

  “Agreed.” I joined him at the bar and handed him Bruin’s menu.

  “Whoa, I wouldn’t want to be a vegetarian here. He likes his red meat, doesn’t he?”

  “I don’t think he gets many vegetarians through his doors, at least not for the food.” I picked up a notepad and pencil behind the bar. “As you can see, his menu is still more involved than what I’m thinking. What if we do hummus and veggies, cheese and meat, a daily soup, and a rotating dessert? Does that sound good for the short term? I can price everything out and then we can get rolling on a menu.”

  “Works for me.” Garrett gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Is there anything else that needs to be done before we open?”

  “Can you speed up the brewing process by a couple of weeks?”

  “I wish.” I tapped the pencil on the notebook. “What are you thinking about guest taps? Do you want me to run over to Der Keller and see what they have?”

  He frowned. “I don’t want to, but I don’t think we have a choice.”

  “Okay. Let me price out the menu, and then I’ll go talk to Otto or Ursula. I’m sure they’ll cut you a deal. They might even comp you a keg.”

  “You don’t need to do that. I don’t want to put you in a weird position.”

  “Trust me, you’re not. That’s the kind of people the Krauses are. I don’t have to ask them for a special favor, they’ll want to help you. Actually, I mentioned your contract with Van to them last night and they said they’d be happy to look it over with you if you want.”

  “No, I talked to my buddy in Seattle late last night. He’s on it.” Garrett reached for the pencil and scribbled something in the notebook. “Nuts. We need nuts. Doesn’t every pub need nuts?”

  “Given the circumstances the past couple of days, I would say we have plenty of nuts running around town, but you’re right. Do you want those as a menu item or something we offer as a complimentary bar snack?”

  “People can pay a few bucks for a bowl of peanuts, can’t they?”

  “Sure.” I made a note to research peanut vendors. If we were going to charge for nuts, we needed to make sure that they were high quality. “I’m on it.”

  Garrett took April’s basket to the office while I penciled out Nitro’s menu. I was excited about getting to put my culinary training to use. I had a great fail-safe recipe for hummus that was simple to make in large batches and that I could tweak every few days. From sun-dried tomatoes to fire-roasted red peppers and pesto, we could experiment with different flavor combinations. Another way to elevate a hummus plate was to marinate the vegetables, and I knew exactly what I would marinate them in—a beer vinaigrette. The meat and cheese plate would feature whatever was fresh at the butcher shop and bakery. I made a note to stop by both. The only thing left to figure out was the daily soup and dessert.

  To keep things as streamlined as possible, I decided to feature a soup and dessert pairing for each day of the week with the exception of Sundays. On Sundays we could get creative and bake whatever we were in the mood for—or use whatever we had left over. Chili was an obvious choice, as were seafood chowder and tomato bisque. I could do creamy potato, beer and cheese, and chicken and rice soups. That would get us through the week. In terms of de
ssert, I had to do a chocolate stout brownie. We could also do beer floats and my cupcakes.

  With the menu roughed out, the next thing I needed to do was talk to vendors to see what our hard food costs would be. I tucked the notebook under my arm and called to Garrett to let him know that I’d be back in a while.

  My first stop was the bakery. I wanted to serve fresh bread with the meat and cheese plates, and pita bread with the hummus. Once I had ordered bread and worked out a delivery schedule at the bakery, I continued on to the German deli to talk to the butcher.

  The German deli was like a candy store for foodies, although it also housed two full rows of imported German candy so, technically speaking, I guess it was a candy store. The deli smoked and cured all of its meats and sausages, and made traditional German side dishes like sauerkraut, pickled red cabbage, potato salad, and schnitzel. My mouth watered when I stepped inside and surveyed the twenty-foot display of sausages. The owner reminded me of Otto. He had the same thick accent and bushy white eyebrows, and expertly sliced sample after sample of his homemade delicacies for me to taste. I opted for an assortment of meats—beer-cured salami; veal loaf; Black Forest ham; and Bierschinken, a pork and beef bologna with chunks of marinated ham, cardamom seeds, and white pepper. It was a favorite in the Krause household and something that most tourists had probably never had a chance to taste. The meats would keep for up to a week—if not longer—and would allow us to gauge sales and whether there were particular things that were a hit with our customers.

  I turned down the deli owner’s offer of a frankfurter and continued on to Der Keller with a full belly. It felt good to have product ordered and a menu finalized. Now I needed to scrounge up an extra keg or two of beer.

  My stomach flopped as I entered the brewery where I had worked for almost two decades. It had nothing to do with sampling too many sausages at the deli and everything to do with the anticipation of running into the beer wench or my husband. I scanned the dining room and spotted Otto at a booth. He had a stack of paperwork piled on the table and a half of a pint glass resting next to him.

  I made my way toward the booth, not bothering to make eye contact or check in with the bartender or waitstaff. It was after noon, and the lunch crowd was humming. Otto looked up and greeted me with a wide grin. “Sloan, how nice to see you. Sit. Sit.”

  “Am I interrupting you?” I asked, acknowledging the stack of papers in front of him. “You look busy.”

  “No, no, never. I always have time for my girl.”

  My throat tightened. “What are you working on?”

  He removed his wire-framed glasses and pressed his veined fingers on the bridge of his nose. “Ze books, Sloan. It’s always something, you know. We have more money going out than coming in these days.”

  This shocked me. Der Keller had always been one of the most solid and stable businesses in town when it came to finances. Otto and Ursula had been savvy yet cautious entrepreneurs. They hadn’t fallen into the trap that so many other start-ups had of expanding too rapidly and purchasing unnecessary expensive equipment.

  “Really?” I said to Otto. “But this place is always buzzing.” Right now the toasty pub was packed with regulars drinking pints and noshing on steaming plates of sauerbraten.

  “Ja, I know, but the money it is going out to so many places. I cannot keep up anymore.”

  “Do you need help?”

  He smiled at me, but his eyes looked weary. “No—thank you, Sloan, but this is not a problem for you to concern about.”

  I couldn’t help but return his smile at his grammar. It was one of the many things I loved about Otto and Ursula. Their nuances of speech cracked me up. When Alex was young, he used to mimic their speech patterns. Neither Mac nor I had bothered to correct him, since we both thought it was adorable.

  “Would you like a drink or some lunch?” Otto offered. He fit the space perfectly. Der Keller was a testament to his tireless efforts and love for his homeland. It came through in every detail from the carved tap handles behind the bar to the rustic décor and the menu inspired by old family recipes.

  “No, thanks. I’m here on official business, actually.”

  His glossy eyes twinkled. “Oh, business. Ja, what can I do for you?”

  I told him about our dilemma at Nitro, how we were low on beer with having to dump the tank where I’d discovered Eddie’s body.

  “Zis is no good—no good. Of course we will help with this. How much do you want? I will have the boys send it over right now.” He started to move.

  “No, no, you don’t need to rush. We’re okay for today, but if you’d let us offer a guest tap, we’d be more than willing to pay for it.”

  “Never, Sloan, not for my girl. Zis is compliment for you.”

  “Otto, this isn’t for me, and you don’t owe me any favors. This is business.”

  “Ja, and zis is how I do business with you.” He refused to let me say more and stood. “We go to the back, and you tell me what you want me to send over.”

  I agreed and followed him into the brewery. Anger bubbled within me as I watched his hunched shoulders and lumbering gate. How had Mac taken him away from me?

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-SIX

  I BUMPED INTO HANS ON my way out of Der Keller. Otto had promised to send over four kegs of beer and refused payment. “Zis is for the village,” he insisted. “You tell Garrett that we welcome him to our beer Bavaria.”

  Hans stepped backward and widened his eyes when he saw me. His tool belt was slung around his waist, and a pencil was tucked behind his ear. “Hey, Sloan, you’re the last person I expected to see here.”

  “I was meeting with your dad,” I said.

  “About Mac?”

  “No, about beer. Why? Has something else happened?”

  He shrugged. “Not as far as I know.”

  “Alex told me that he was going to talk to Chief Meyers this morning, but I haven’t heard anything since.” Then I realized that I hadn’t spoken to Hans since I’d last seen Mac. I filled him in on our conversation from the night before and confessed that I suspected Hayley might be involved.

  He listened intently and, when I finished, stuffed his hands into his work overalls. “I’m impressed, Sloan.”

  “With what?”

  “You. After what Mac did, most women would kick him to the curb and let him sit in jail. You are a rare breed.”

  “Well, thanks, but to be honest, part of me wanted to let him sit in jail. I couldn’t do that to Alex, though. He needs his dad.”

  “My point exactly.” Hans glanced at Der Keller’s large front windows. “What did you need with Dad?”

  I told him about our beer dilemma and how I was working on a pub menu for Garrett, too.

  “He called me last night.”

  “Who?”

  “Garrett.” Hans removed his screwdriver from his tool belt and tightened a loose screw on the windowsill. “He thinks you’re some kind of magician or beer goddess. He thanked me profusely for tossing out your name. I guess things are going well with him.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a confirmation.

  “That’s me, beer goddess.” I winked. “And like Garrett, you have my thanks as well.”

  “I had a feeling you two would hit it off.” He gave me a sly smile. “Professionally speaking, of course.”

  “Given that the last time I checked I was still married to your brother, I would hope so.”

  Hans examined the string of hops twisted around the front entrance. “Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do next?”

  “You mean with Mac?”

  He nodded but kept his face turned away from me. “I don’t want to be in the middle, but he asked me to tell you that he’ll do anything to save your marriage.”

  “I don’t want to put you in the middle either, Hans, but he sure has a funny way of showing his commitment to our marriage, since every time I’ve seen him in the last forty-eight hours, the beer wench has been at his si
de.”

  Hans sighed and removed a dead hop from the vine. I changed the subject. “Hey, did you know that she dated Eddie?”

  “Hayley?” Hans returned his attention to me and brushed his hands together. The scent of the lemony hop filled the air.

  “Yeah. I don’t know any details, but apparently they had a nasty breakup pretty recently.”

  “Hmm.” He glanced across the street to the Christmas shop. Despite the fact that it wasn’t even officially fall yet, the shop had a huge Christmas tree and life-sized Santa on display in its front window. Christmas was a big deal in Leavenworth, and there were multiple shops in town that dedicated their inventory to the holiday year-round. “I hadn’t heard that, but you know me, I try to stay out of the gossip loop. Although I did hear a rumor that things weren’t going well with Eddie and Bruin. Maybe Eddie let his personal problems spill into work.”

  “What did you hear about them?” My curiosity was on high alert. Bruin hadn’t mentioned anything about the fact that he and Eddie weren’t getting along. Which might mean nothing. Or it might be connected to Eddie’s murder.

  “Bruin put an ask out around town for a new brewer. He made it sound like he was planning on cutting Eddie loose.”

  “Really? Who did you hear that from?”

  Hans folded his chiseled arms across his chest and gave me a knowing look.

  “April?”

  “Who else?” he confirmed with a nod. “You know April; she likes to stir things up, so it could be gossip, but when I saw Bruin at the Nitro launch, he asked me if I had any interest in getting back in the beer business. He was sloshed but I didn’t get the sense that he was kidding.”

  “Bruin made it sound like he was broken up about Eddie’s death. I wonder what was going on between the two of them. Did April give any specifics?”

  “Nope. Just that.”

  “I wonder if she told Chief Meyers.” The sound of a truck backing up made me turn around. We don’t get many semis on Front Street. This one contained the massive white tents that would be erected for Oktoberfest.

  Hans watched as a crew began unloading the tents, temporary gates, and ten-foot tables. “April loves to hear herself talk and isn’t exactly a shrinking wallflower, so I would put my money on the fact that she’s told everyone in town.”