36. Tuvid

36

TUVID

D isguised once more, I left early, following the directions to Jasper's place, landing in the woods behind the parking lot. I stooped down and studied the layout of the building, watching as only a few people came and went from the tasting room that must be similar to Beastly Beer Co.

The lot was nearly empty, suggesting his business wasn't thriving like hers, though it was early in the day. Yet tourists loved this coastal town during the summer. The streets teemed with humans and monsters alike from about eight in the morning until things started shutting down after midnight. They were already knocking on Angie's doors at least every ten minutes, asking when her tasting room would reopen.

Was this why Jasper had stolen her beer? I'd thought he planned to enter it in the contest and take home the prize, but perhaps the money would be more welcome.

As would the purchase of her building. I was confident he'd take a cut of whatever deal he made with those backing the office building and condo project.

Finally, it was close to two. Since he'd expect me to fly in, I strode along a trail until I reached a clearing a short distance away and took flight, soaring over the woods and landing in an empty area in front of the building.I straightened my suit and strode inside and up to the bar.

An ogre greeted me. "Welcome. Are you here for a flight?" He waved to the taps prominently on display. "We've got an amazing IPA, and I know you'll adore our Pilsner. It's a sunlit meadow in a glass—crisp, with gentle floral hints and a honeyed whisper. You can taste the artisan embrace of our traditional brewing that's refined to perfection in every glass."

He was good. Very good. If Jasper went out of business after this fiasco, I'd recommend Angie hire this guy.

"I have an appointment with Jasper Blane," I said.

"Oh, right." He looked me over politely. "You must be Vestalon Barkley. He mentioned you'd be stopping by. Said to show you to the VIP lounge where you could wait." He glanced toward a dark-haired woman working the bar at his left. "Would you keep an eye on things, Jenny? I'll escort Mr. Barkley out back."

"Sure thing, Aaron."

"This way."

I followed him to the left, through a door with an opaque porthole and down a hall. We passed through a cooler room with large wooden barrels stacked in rows reaching to the ceiling on either side.

"Where do you hail from, Vestalon?" Aaron asked over his shoulder .

"California. Near San Diego."

"Nice place. My cousin lives out that way. Lovely weather, though it can get hot sometimes."

"It sure can."

"Earthquakes must be a pain too."

"But you can't beat the beaches."

"Nope."

At the end of the room with the barrels, we came to another door with a porthole that he opened, gesturing for me to enter ahead of him. I walked into a room about thirty by thirty with a small bar on one side and leather couches artfully arranged in a circle around a glass table in the middle. A few short refrigerators had been placed near the bar, holding various bottles that must be select brews, as was common in VIP lounges in microbreweries like this. Many made special batches, some with fruit or interesting spices, and they'd keep a few bottles on hand to offer select guests.

"Jasper should be with you shortly," Aaron said. "He's tied up with someone. Said to tell you to have a seat. Can I offer you something to drink? Anything you'd like. Do you have a preference? Dark. Light. We have some amazing brews here."

"Whatever you think would go well on a sunny afternoon," I said, settling on one of the couches designed for a big gargoyle like me.

Aaron rounded the bar and opened one of the refrigerators, pulling out a tall brown bottle. After opening it, he poured some into a glass and brought it over, placing it on the glossy wooden table in front of the sofa. "Here you are. One of our blueberry wheats from last year. I think you'll enjoy it." He waved to a few buttons on the far wall. "Press the green one if you need me, though I know Jasper won't be long. The bathrooms are to the left of the panel."

"Thank you. I'll savor your blueberry wheat while I wait."

He left, and I picked up the glass, admiring the color in the light. It smelled good. Tasted even better.

If Jasper served good beer like this, why wasn't his business thriving?

Placing the glass on the table, I rose and casually strolled around, pretending I was looking the place over when actually, I was looking for Angie's kegs. Were they in the room outside this one? I hadn't seen any that resembled the ones she'd described, but they could be hidden behind the large wooden ones or tucked away inside a chiller.

If Jasper hoped to impress me, he'd keep them cold. He'd be eager to sell beer to my exclusive clients in the future, let alone office space and condos.

I didn't find Angie's kegs or any evidence of anything suspicious and returned to the couch, where I sat, crossed my legs, and took another sip of the beer, which really was fantastic.

Jasper strode into the room, giving me a broad smile, extending his hand as he approached. "Vestalon. Great to see you again."

I rose and we shook. "You too, Jasper." I peered around him, almost expecting to see his "silent partner," Benjamin, arriving to make this a perfect criminal duo, but the ex-boyfriend wasn't here—yet .

"Let's get right to it, shall we?" Jasper bustled over to the bar and rounded it, waving to the high stools in front. "Have a seat. I see Aaron gave you a glass of our famous blueberry wheat. What are your thoughts?"

"It's amazing. Nice strong blueberry notes, and the wheat's perfect. It's a subtle complement and quite tasty. I imagine you did well with this one."

Jasper's face darkened. "We did. We hope to do a larger run next year. We just need to secure the blueberries, and I believe we'll sign a contract with a grower next week. Maine's known for their wild blueberry crop. One of the best out there. A grower in one of the northern counties assures us they'll be able to supply the quantities we need."

"You'll bring them from Maine? That's awesome."

He pulled a small bottle out of the fridge behind him and uncapped it, pouring a generous amount of a dark brew into a glass. "Chocolate chili stout coming right up."

"Where are the kegs?" I asked casually as I lifted the glass, holding it up to the light. "What a gorgeous color." I took a sniff, savoring the sharpness on my sinuses. "Smells like just the right amount of chili." Was this Angie's beer or someone else's?

I took a sip. It was perfect. But that didn't mean it was Angie's.

"What do you think so far?" he eagerly asked, placing the bottle on the bar top and leaning his elbows on it as well. "Nice chocolate notes, right? I've sampled it, and it's wonderful. One of the best, if not the best, chocolate chili stouts I've ever tasted. "

"It's excellent," I said, echoing my thoughts. "The kegs?"

His gaze fled from mine. "Yes, err, there's a little delay there."

I lifted my unibrow as I placed the glass on the table. "What do you mean?" Once I'd identified the kegs as hers, I could back away and leave this to the local law enforcement agency. Angie's kegs would be returned to her possession quickly and this chapter of her life would be over.

"They're not here," Jasper said with a deepening frown.

"I thought you had possession of the kegs. I want a sample from each of them. I need to examine them as well before I'm able to commit to this purchase. Surely you understand."

"Oh, I do. Here's the thing." He glanced around as if someone could overhear. Actually, they could—through the bug I wore. Leaning close, he lowered his voice. "They're not my kegs. I procured them from a local seller who picked them up from someone else. If you're interested in buying them, and you're willing to give us a solid down payment, we'll meet them tomorrow morning at a secure location to make the deal. You'll be able to see the kegs then, pour from them and taste them yourself, then hand over the rest of the cash."

"This is highly unusual." I didn't even have to pretend to sound affronted. "What kind of business are you running here?"

He lifted his palms. "A normal one. I'm completely above board. I brew my beer. I sell my beer. I'm doing the best I can. You came to me, not the other way around. I wanted to do you a favor, hoping if I needed one in return, sometime in the future, that is, you'll do one for me. But the kegs aren't mine. I can get them for you, and I swear, they were obtained honestly. Meet with me tomorrow morning at ten. Bring your cash. Try the beer, which is the same as what you just sampled. Pay the price we agreed upon, and we'll load your kegs into your vehicle, and you can be on your way. No one will know but us."

Such an interesting development. "I'm open to the idea."

His shoulders loosened. "Good. Good."

"As long as . . ."

His head tilted. "What's your condition?"

"My younger brother will come with me."

"Brother, eh?" He scratched the back of his neck. "I suppose that would be alright. I'll let the seller know."

We shook on it, and I left, taking the bottle of stout with me. As I flew back to Angie, I kept wondering.

If Jasper hadn't stolen Angie's kegs, then who had?