From Beer to Eternity. Sherry Harris
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other end of the couch reading, chatting, watching movies with me.
Once I’d heard they’d found Boone’s remains and set the burial service, I’d packed up and headed down here to pay my respects and fulfill my promise. Any other time in my adult life, if I’d found a dead person, Boone would have been the first person I would have called. Now I wasn’t sure who to talk to. My parents would freak out. My brothers would be driving down here to pick me up. As much as they tormented me growing up, they’d also protected me even when I didn’t think I needed protecting. Trust me, Jake Hawkensbury would never forget the night he brought me home after curfew. I shuddered at that memory. It was weeks before anyone asked me out after that incident.
I dialed Rachel, my best friend and roommate in Chicago.
“Chloe!!! I was just going to call you. I have fantastic news.” Rachel sounded giddy, which was unlike her. She was a serious girl, a med student at Northwestern. It’s why we were a good team. I got Rachel out of her shell, and she tempered my I’ll-try-anything streak.
It made me smile to hear her happy voice. “What’s going on?”
“Ashar asked me to marry him last night.”
I was stunned. They’d only been dating for nine months. He was just . . . so . . . wrong for her. Too handsome. Big ego. Thought because he worked for the Cubs, he was God’s gift. But I couldn’t say any of this to her, certainly not now. “Tell me all about it. Every detail.” If Rachel was happy, I would be happy for her even if it gave me ulcers. We’d met in high school and she’d always been there for me.
“He proposed during the seventh-inning stretch. We were sitting behind the Cubs dugout. Ashar leaped up on it, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up with him. I thought he’d gone mad.” Her laugh tinkled across the phone line. “Then he got down on one knee and whipped out the biggest diamond I’ve ever seen. It was all on the jumbotron. Everyone cheered for us. And then the Cubs won. It was the perfect evening.”
“If only they showed the games down here. I would have seen it.”
“I’ll send you a link so you can watch. You’ll be my maid of honor, won’t you?”
“Absolutely! I’d be honored—forgive the pun. Did you set a date?”
“Not an exact date, but sometime next winter, before spring training starts.”
“That makes perfect sense.”
Rachel paused. “Chloe . . .”
“What?” Was she going to confess some doubt? How could she say no when Ashar had asked her in such a public way?
“Ashar wants to move in right away. And because you’re away . . .”
I was a bit surprised that Ashar would want to leave his shiny penthouse for the charming old building we lived in. But it was walking distance to Wrigley Field. “Of course,” I said. Rachel’s grandmother owned the apartment and I paid rent to Rachel—a much-reduced rent by Chicago standards. I’d always known I couldn’t live there forever. “That makes sense.”
“Ashar wondered if we could put your things in storage so he can convert your room into his man cave.”
Already? I’d left most of my belongings in Chicago. “I won’t be able to get back up there to pack. At least not for a few weeks.”
“I’ll pack for you. If you don’t mind.”
“Of course, not” I chirped. At least I hoped I sounded chirpy. Peppy. Maid of honor-y. I tried to put myself in her shoes. Madly in love. Wanting to move on to a new phase in her life. I’d kick me out too. “My parents have a storage unit and I’ll ask one of my brothers to move my stuff once it’s packed.” I didn’t have that much because the place had been furnished with Rachel’s grandmother’s things.
“Thanks for understanding. You’re the best. Hey, why did you call?”
I couldn’t tell her about finding Elwell when she was so happy. “I must have just sensed you had something to tell me.” We hung up a few minutes later.
* * *
My thoughts turned back to Elwell. I didn’t know that much about him, so I looked him up on my phone. He was the president of the Emerald Cove Chamber of Commerce. Really? He was supposed to be supporting local businesses, not scaring customers away by acting crazy. Could that be a motive for murder? There wasn’t much else about him online. Nothing about his murder, but it had only happened a few hours ago, so that wasn’t too surprising.
I headed back to my car. Maybe the mindless work at the Sea Glass would help, or maybe I’d hear something that would relieve my worries about Vivi. Because as much as I loved Boone, I couldn’t imagine working for a murderer.
CHAPTER 6
That evening at closing, Joaquín lounged against the backside of the bar watching me attack a stubborn stain on the wood. He’d just closed the sliders and locked up.
“What did that stain do to you? Yesterday it was chopping the fruit, today this.”
“It had the nerve to appear on Vivi’s bar.” I’d been thinking about my run-in with Rhett, finding Elwell, and Vivi’s argument with a man last night. I attacked the spot again. “Do you know a Rhett B—”
“Rhett Barnett? Sure do, but don’t let Vivi hear you saying his name in here.”
Hmmm. Rhett had made it sound like he was on speaking terms with Vivi, though she did give him the cold shoulder earlier. “Why not?”
“The Slidells and the Barnetts make the Montagues and Capulets look like family friends.”
“Shakespeare?” I asked.
“Just ’cause I live in the South and fish don’t mean I don’t know nothin’.” He said it with a fake drawl heavy with sarcasm.
“That’s not what I meant to imply.” Or had it been? Did I have some teensy prejudices against Southern people that up until this point I didn’t realize? “I’m sorry.” Joaquín was the only person who was halfway friendly to me here. I couldn’t lose him as a potential friend. I needed my Scarecrow.
Joaquín raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then. By the way, the stain’s been gone for a good minute. You can quit scrubbing.”
I looked down, and he was right. At least I’d accomplished something today, even if it was only removing a stain. “Where’s Vivi?” She’d been in this morning, but took off when Joaquín showed up at one.
“She’s planning a memorial for Elwell with the other heritage businesses.”
“The heritage businesses?” I asked. “What are they?”
“Any business that’s been open since 1950 or before. You go back much further than that and this was just a spit of land with a couple of sandy roads leading to the beach. Then the fishing village popped up, and more people starting moving here.”
“So which businesses are the heritage ones?”
“Here, of course, and the Briny Pirate. The Hickle glass-bottom boat, the Redneck Rollercoaster, the Emerald Cove fishing boat charter, and Russo’s Grocery Store. They’ve been passed down from generation to generation.”
“Most of those places are stops on the Redneck Rollercoaster.” So was the Sea Glass. I had picked up a brochure, but hadn’t gone for a ride yet. Why it was called that when it was a trolley that took tourists to several local historic spots, the beach, and, of course, here, remained a mystery to me.
“You done?” Joaquín asked. “I have an early start tomorrow.”
“I am.” I hoped it wasn’t too late to find a motel room somewhere. I needed a good night’s sleep and a real shower. Maybe even room service. It sounded like heaven. My morning could be summed up