Janet Evanovich - Love in a Nutshell

She handed it to him and turned her attention to Junior.

Junior clutched his blue cooler, searching for something to say. “I heard you’ve got bees in your house. You should be careful, because bees can be very dangerous.”

Kate opened her mouth, thought better of telling Junior what she’d like to do with her bees, and snapped her mouth shut.

Matt asked the police what they knew so far, and it was nothing helpful. The building manager had opened the place at five to let in the cleaning crew. They’d done their job and left. The manager had stayed in his office. He’d also admitted to dozing off. Anyone could have slipped in at any point. Matt thanked the police and asked to be sent a copy of their report. Beyond that, he doubted that he’d hear from them again.

“Let’s get to it,” he said to his crew.

Harley volunteered to get the rest of the beer from Matt’s truck while Torvald and Junior bought ice. It would be a shorter pouring day, but not a total wipeout. Kate got her hands on a ladder and roll of duct tape and began piecing the banner together from behind.

“Looks like you’re going to need more tape,” Matt said.

Kate leaned precariously from the top step of the ladder, trying to fix a torn piece. “I’ve got just enough. It’s not going to be perfect, but it will do.”

Harley rounded the table wheeling a dolly stacked with cases of bottled beer. His labored breathing made it clear that he was too hungover and out-of-shaandalignpe to be a beer hauler.

“You’re handling this situation like a champ,” Harley said to Matt.

“I didn’t know I had a choice.”

“Most guys would be bitchin’ and moanin’.”

Matt smiled. “I’ve discovered it doesn’t make much of a difference whether I do or don’t, so I’m opting for don’t.”

Chet Orowski strolled up. “Looks like what goes round, comes round, huh, Culhane? I heard what happened to you.” He looked at the scarecrow. “Looks to me like you screwed the wrong guy. You oughta be more careful.”

“It’s no big deal,” Matt said. “We’ve still got some beer, the banner’s okay, I’m thinking of using the scarecrow so I can ride in carpool lanes, and we’re going to have fun. Because that’s what we’re in the business for, right?”

Chet threw up his hands, looking around the room, hoping for an audience. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Great PR spin, but we both know the truth. Someone here hates you. I guess you’re not the big star you thought you were.”

“I’ve never thought of myself as a big star,” Matt said. “I brew beer, and that’s it.”

Chet snorted. “Sure thing. You’ve got your pride the same as all of us, and now your nose is getting rubbed in it. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.”

Kate finished taping the sign and started down the ladder. The ladder rocked left and Kate leaned right, trying to keep from falling. For a long moment, both Kate and the ladder seemed to hover in the air before they both came crashing down. Straight onto Chet. And as they lay there in a heap, Kate was as grateful for Chet’s bulk as she was for her small stature. Between the combination of the two, she didn’t actually kill him.

“CHET DIDN’T do it, you know,” Matt said to Kate that night as they headed west through Detroit’s endless string of suburbs.

She peeked into the backseat to check on Stella in her travel crate. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because he’s a lot like your ex-husband. Lots of bluster and no action.”

Kate looked out the window. “You don’t know the half of it.”

“All I’m saying is that Chet couldn’t get out of his own way to pull off this stuff. And even if he did trash the booth-which he didn’t-he doesn’t have the right contacts in Keene’s Harbor. Yeah, spare brewery keys could have been floating around, but how would Chet have gotten his hands on one?”

Kate sighed. “Okay, good point, but we’re right back;ree gotten to where we started. More vandalism and too many suspects . We’ll put Jerry on the back burner, since he wasn’t around. That leaves us with the Mortensens, Junior, and Harley. Do we know where the Mortensens were last night?”

“In bed by nine, probably. They’re a pretty low-key couple.”

“We’ll put them aside for now.” She paused. “I did pick up Harley’s lighter, though.”

“He said he dropped it while straightening the booth. Did you find it someplace where that couldn’t be possible?”

“No, it was on top of a box of coasters.”

“Not exactly enough to convict the guy,” Matt said. “Besides, Junior and Harley have each other for alibis. They were at a sports bar until the Pistons game ended, then back at the hotel bar until last call. Judging by the way they looked today, I’m sure they can prove it.”

Kate sighed again. “I’m sure they can.”

Stella whimpered from the backseat.

“Do you mind if I get her out?” Kate asked.

“No problem.”

Matt kept his eyes on the road as Kate violated a couple of traffic laws while freeing her poodle.

“I can’t believe how tired I am,” Kate said once she and the dog were safely in front. “I think I’ll just close my eyes and…” She yawned, and Matt filled in the rest of her words for himself.

Somewhere just east of Lansing, a slight whistling sound drew Matt’s attention from the road. Kate was curled up with Stella. Both woman and dog were out cold. A louder whistling came his way. The dog was snoring.

On Thursday morning Kate woke to a poodle nestled next to her head. And, as had been true every morning since the workweek had started, her phone was ringing. Kate’s. Not Stella’s. Kate had spoiled her baby with long beach walks, but the dog would not be getting a phone.

“Hello?” Kate said, feeling rested and ridiculously content.

“Let me guess,” Matt said. “You overslept.”

Kate sat upright, and Stella grunted her disapproval of the change in her sleeping arrangements.

“No way. Again? I set my alarm. Really.”

She couldn’t stop smiling, though. Several nights in a row of more than eight consecutive hours of sleep. She might not have any walls or a master bathroom or a living room floor, but at least the mold and most of the bees were gone. She felt human again.

“If you could amble on in here before I take any more guff about giving you special treatment, I just might forgive you,” Matt said.

He sounded amused, and Kate’s smile grew into a grin.

“Let me take a shower and give Stella her morning walk, and then I’ll be right there.”

Matt laughed. “So, like noon, right?”

“No later than ten, I promise.”

“Hey, and find Bart when you get here, okay? Laila’s ready to come back, so you’re going to be assistant to the assistant brewers.”

“Sounds filled with responsibility,” Kate said. But really, she didn’t care what Matt had her doing so long as she was earning and snooping… and getting to see him. She had fallen for him, and the ginger poodle had sealed the deal.

AT PRECISELY ten o’clock, Kate found Bart the brewmaster by a large wipe-off board where he was scribbling dates and other random things. Floyd, his assistant, stood to his right. The older man possessed a rather impressively sized beer belly. Kate had to appreciate a guy who showed that much love for his chosen career.

Next to Floyd was Nan O’Brien, assistant brewer number two. Nan was an Amazon of a woman, at least six feet tall, and fit. A hunter, triathlete, and seasoned sailor, Nan could whip any television survival show dude with one arm tied behind her back.

“Hey, Bart,” Kate said. “Sorry I’m late.”