29. Angie

29

ANGIE

A fter agreeing on a reception menu and deferring on the wedding party itself, I was able to hustle my mother and Krunesta from my office, honestly stating that I had work to do today and that the wedding could wait. After all, we'd just gotten engaged. I wasn't pregnant (I hoped). There was no reason to rush the wedding.

We hadn't even set the date—and that was something I insisted I was going to settle on with Tuvid, not them.

They grumbled but with matching tote bags in hand, they left, stating that they'd head to Claws & Curls to talk to them about possible hair and nail appointments for the wedding party.

This was feeling too real and too sudden for my liking.

I'd just sunk into my chair when Tuvid walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"How did it go?" I asked, rising and strapping on my tail. We quickly tied our tails together, then dropped into our chairs side-by-side .

"I learned a few details you should know about some members of your staff." He pulled out his phone and scrolled into it. "Emma's got a gambling problem."

"What? I mean, I know she enjoys going to the casino, but I thought that was more Jularin's thing than hers and now that they've broken up, she wouldn't be playing the slots any longer."

"She's in debt almost twenty thousand dollars with some local businessmen , though I discovered she recently put one thousand down on the amount she borrowed from them."

"How did you discover that?"

"I found it online."

I shook my head, unsure how that was possible. Wasn't information like that confidential? "She said she won a thousand dollars at the casino but that she needed it to pay her rent. Are you sure about all this? People do get into debt, but she had some health problems a few years ago. Maybe it's medical debt?"

"It could be." He frowned at his phone. "I'll research it some more, but it's something to consider."

"I can't imagine my kegs are worth that much money, and they're definitely not worth risking her job here at the brewery to steal. Besides, we're dealing with more than stolen kegs. Someone dumped out all that beer. Whoever did that is trying to ruin my business. What would be her motive for that? If I go out of business, she'll be out of a job. I know she picks up some accounting work on the side, and I can see why if she's carrying that much debt, but if the brewery closes, the few hours a week she's told me she does for businesses in town won't cover her rent, let alone make payments on a balance like that." I leaned back in my chair. "Who else is on the short list?"

"Gracie, of course."

"Why Gracie?"

"She was your rival in high school."

"That was twelve years ago."

"I know for a fact she still mentions it on FaceSpace."

Curious, I leaned forward. "What's she saying? I don't go there often. Too much gossip."

"She's still saying you stole her boyfriend."

"Benjamin." I rolled my eyes. "And I didn't steal him."

"You were with him for twelve years?"

"Oh, no. We broke up before high school graduation and only started dating again a year or so ago. They dated after high school, but they ended things months before Benjamin and I got back together."

"Gracie said not even a week ago that you joined him in the back seat of the bus on the way home from a soccer championship, that you two kissed. That this was in high school."

"Like, why would that matter?"

"Just some evidence."

I frowned. "I didn't ever go to a soccer championship, let alone sit with him in the back of the bus. Or kiss him." I sighed. "I can't believe Gracie's bothering with something like that after all these years. Are you sure it's her and not someone else saying these things? Just this morning, she and the rest of my staff were bailing me out, literally and figuratively. She rallied everyone to clean the tasting room, and if I know my friend, she's out there right now assessing the place for mold damage."

"She actually is. I saw her when I passed through the room." He repositioned his wings in the chair. "Honestly? I don't think she'd steal your kegs. What's the motive even if she still holds a grudge for you stealing her boyfriend?"

"I didn't steal her boyfriend. He's scum."

"I wouldn't want him either. Speaking of Benjamin, I just left Jasper Blane's business, and Benjamin was there."

"I'm not surprised. When my uncle bought him out, Benjamin offered him a sweet deal and the two have been partners ever since."

"I didn't know that."

"You, with your super online investigative skills?"

His low chuckle rang out.

"It's not public knowledge, though I'm not sure why." I frowned. "For some reason, I think they wanted to keep it quiet."

"Jasper bought into Benjamin's business?"

"Benjamin was short on cash back then. He nearly went out of business. He was so sure his latest recipe was special that he bottled a huge run. It bombed horribly. No one would buy it. Distributors stopped pushing it, and he was about to close shop when Jasper stepped in with the cash he got from my uncle."

"Cash alone didn't save his business."

"He must've switched recipes, though I'll point out, his IPA is very similar to mine. It even has a similar name. I'm not the first to mention that, either. But though I tried to fight back, I was told it wasn't similar enough, so I let it go. Lawyers are expensive."

"Interesting." He took notes on everything I said.

"Who else is on your list?"

"You have a few other competitors who've entered the contest. They'd benefit if you had no beer to offer, let alone if you have a hard time staying in business."

"I hate thinking that anyone would be eager to shut down Beastly Beer Co., but it's possible."

"Remember Maureen Hackney's flopped holiday brew? Her brewery was doing better than yours until then. She must be eager to do all she can to make sure she wins the contest."

"She doesn't come across to me as someone who'd cheat. She's very religious."

"That doesn't mean she's honest."

"I suppose not. Anyone else?"

"Let me see." He scrolled through his phone.

Someone knocked on my door, and when I called out, my lead manager, Ikor, poked his head inside the opening. "Hey, Angie, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, what's up?" I waved for him to enter, and he perched on the edge of the open chair. An ogre, he was a big guy, too large for the small metal chair. I made a mental note to order a variety of chairs I could place in the little-used closet outside my office. Then I could pull them out depending on whoever needed them.

"We've got trouble in the shop," he said, worrying his upper lip with his tusks. He scratched his bald head and fidgeted on the edge of the chair.

Please, no more trouble. "What's wrong? "

"The IPA doesn't taste right. It's off."

"What do you mean?"

"The latest batch has an odd flavor I can't quite define."

I rose. "Let's go see." Or taste, in this situation.

Since we were tied together, Tuvid went with us out into the big open area with huge stainless-steel cylinders and my crew busy brewing beer. Our regular stuff was made here. We crafted specialty brews like my stout in other, smaller areas of the facility.

"We were getting ready to bottle this run when I noticed the smell wasn't right," Ikor said. "I took a sip and while it's subtle, there's something odd about it. Most might not notice, but we're picky."

That was why I'd hired him. He was as careful as me. "Let me try."

He drew some off and handed me the glass. I took a sniff first, noting what he'd discovered right away. Had the hops gone bad before we used them? No, that wasn't it. I couldn't quite place what the difference was either.

Tuvid stood with us, frowning, though saying nothing.

Sipping a small amount, I swirled it around inside my mouth before spitting it back and handing the glass to Ikor. "It has a bitter orange flavor that's wrong."

Ikor sighed. "I was hoping it was just me, that my tastebuds were off or something."

I rubbed his arm. "It's not you. It's the entire batch." I grimaced as I contemplated all the product we'd have to dump down the drain.

"What's wrong?" Tuvid asked .

I frowned. "We either made a mistake with the recipe or . . ."

Ikor's gaze met mine. "You know only a few of us have access to the recipes, which means . . ."

My gaze met Tuvid's. "We're worried someone hacked our computer and changed the recipe for our most popular beer."