Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I rubbed the heel of my palm against my chest. I didn’t want to hold grudges. I just wanted to put Matthew behind me. “Well, I can’t blame you guys too much for falling for his bullshit, considering I fell for it first. I’m just glad he was a jackass enough to confess.”
Chris flipped his ponytail behind his shoulder, shaking his head. “I didn’t believe it till he said it. I just—” His gaze darted my way. “I didn’t believe you did it either, Avery. But I wouldn’t have thought of Matt.”
”I’m just glad this is over,” I said. “We can all move on.”
Chris sighed. “I guess I’m looking for a new brewmaster.”
“You’ll find somebody good,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m going to talk to some people about this thing for Bob, see if we can get some music, some food trucks. Will you talk to Bob?”
“I’m on it,” Chris said. “We’ll put together something awesome.”
“Damn straight we will,” I agreed, catching sight of Hawk and Griffen just outside the door to Chris’s hops room. “I’ll be in touch.” I left Chris with another pat on his shoulder and followed Hawk and Griffen out of the brewery into the bright sunshine.
The three of us stood together in the parking lot, watching West drive a handcuffed Matthew back to the police station.
Griffen gave me a hug and kissed the top of my head. “You’ve got balls of steel, kid,” he said.
“I thought I was going to throw up for a minute there.” My stomach rolled at the memory of facing down Matthew.
“But you didn’t,” Hawk added. “You got what you needed. Cleared your name. That confession, on top of everything else West has? He might get off on the breaking and entering, depending on what Cammie has to say, but the arson and attempted second-degree murder charges are going to be a lot harder to dodge. Holt isn’t getting out of jail for a long time.”
“Let’s hope not,” I agreed. “It’s a little early, but you guys want a beer? I want to go open my brewery.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
AVERY
Istood in front of the small table beside the stainless-steel vat, where my flagship IPA was fermenting. Beside that, my attempt at recreating the Fall brew was bottle conditioning, the process that added carbonation to the fermented beer. One more day before I found out how close I’d come to the original. It was hard to resist popping one open early, just to see.
Thanksgiving—I reminded myself. Tomorrow I’d see what I had. Could be nothing. It probably wouldn’t be awful, but it could be just meh. Or it could be amazing. And if it wasn’t, I’d try again. Whatever Matthew had added—and I did believe he’d added something, his smugness had the ring of truth—I’d figure it out.
I looked down at the table in front of me. I’d set up a random-ish collection of flavors that could have been in that beer— dried orange peel, lemon peel, and one of grapefruit. A knuckle of ginger, a stick of cinnamon, and a slice of star anise.
I wasn’t sure. The orange and lemon were in the beer currently bottle conditioning, as was a hint of the cinnamon and ginger. I’d used the star anise before, in a stout, but the flavor was too specific, too dense for this fall brew, and my memory of what Matt and I had bottled didn’t have that flavor profile. But the others—they were possible.
I didn’t know. Had there been a hint of lemon? I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. The original recipe was no longer helpful, since I doubted he’d written down what he’d added. Or maybe he had, and that’s why he’d had Cammie steal it. I couldn’t be sure, and it didn’t matter anyway. I had to figure this out on my own, for my own sake. I wanted this for myself.
I was trying not to obsess, but when I had a break or needed a distraction, I wandered this way and studied the table, thinking, tasting beer in my imagination. I’d get it eventually. I glanced at my watch. It was time to open the taproom. Dave had the day off to visit with family who’d come to town for the holiday, and since West had arrested Cammie, she wouldn’t be coming in to work. That whole thing was a bummer. Cammie and I hadn’t been BFFs, and she hadn’t been a stellar employee, but I thought we’d been friends. I didn’t think she’d steal from me or lie to me. But she had, and now I was down a third of my staff. It sucked, but I could live with it.
I didn’t feel like manning the bar. I was more in the mood to do beer stuff than people stuff, but I didn’t have a choice. Finn was coming in, which would be a good distraction. Thanks to a few storms in the past week, most of the leaves were on the ground instead of in the trees, and fewer tourists crowded Sawyers Bend. The Inn was packed full and would do a gorgeous Thanksgiving dinner the next day, but overall, the town was quieter than it had been. I didn’t mind the downturn in business.