Love in a Nutshell - Janet Evanovich [69]
“Are you okay?” Matt called to her.
“I think I need a raise.”
Matt reached in an arm. “Can you make it up here?”
She grabbed his hand, scrambled out, and pinned herself against his body. She was soaked from the waist down.
Kate was gasping so much she could barely get her words out. “That sucked. That really, really sucked. I know you’re supposed to face your fears, but seriously, never again.”
Whoever did this to her would pay, Matt thought. He’d find them and then it would get ugly.
“Come on, let’s get you dried off,” he said.
By the time they’d reached the ground, Bart had dragged over a chair and Floyd had shut down the brewhouse.
Matt led Kate to the chair. “Bart, could you call the police?”
Bart looked shaken. “Sure thing.”
Kate settled into Bart’s chair, bent over, and untied her soggy sneakers. “Why would someone do that to me?”
Matt had his guesses, and they had to do with what—and who—he held of value.
“I don’t know,” he said. Now wasn’t the time to point out the obvious.
She pulled off her shoes and socks. Matt noted that one sock was light blue and the other gray with little yellow ducks on it. Despite his tension, he smiled at the mismatch.
“Do you have any other clothes here?” he asked.
“No.”
He did a mental inventory of his office, then said, “Hang on.”
“Believe me, I’m not going anywhere.”
And he didn’t want her to, either. But for her own safety, she would be. After today, Matt was going to make sure Kate was far from Depot Brewing Company.
* * *
MAYBE BOYFRIEND jeans were in style, but boss-or-whatever-more-he-was-to-her sweatpants weren’t. Kate rolled the waist over as many times as possible and still she swam in the fabric. She paired the sweatpants with a T-shirt from the brewery store and did a small grimace. Okay, she thought, so she looked like a goofus, but at least she was a dry goofus.
Matt was waiting for her by the brewhouse with Chief Erikson.
“Do you feel up to answering some questions, Kate?” the police chief asked.
“Sure.”
Matt glanced toward the latest in a stream of sympathetic Depot employees who’d been checking on Kate since her big swim. “How about in my office?” Matt suggested.
Clete closed the office door behind them. “Kate, did you see your attacker?”
“I was at the bottom of a tank, Chief Erikson. It was just me and a whole lot of dark.”
The chief scribbled some notes, then turned to Matt, who’d taken a seat behind his desk. “You were close enough to be the first to Kate, Matt. Did you see anything unusual?”
“No. Bart, Floyd, Nan, and I were in Bart’s office. We’d been having a pretty intense discussion, so I didn’t hear or see anything at first.” He picked up a pen and started jotting on a legal pad. When he was done, he tore off a piece and slid it across his desk to Clete. “These are the names of the people who were here this morning at ten. The taproom was still closed, so there were no customers in the house.”
“Not paying, at least,” Clete said. “But could an outsider have gotten into the brewery?”
“It’s possible, I suppose,” Matt said. “Except it’s unlikely an outsider would have known that someone was in the tank.”
“Not so true,” Kate said. “I was singing ‘All By Myself.’ Kind of loudly, too.”
Clete smiled. “Good song. Other than the brewers, does anyone else touch the brewing tank?”
“No,” Matt replied. “The only exception would be if Bart has given any private tours. You’ll have to ask him about that.”
Clete nodded. “Matt, I don’t know what you had planned for that unit today, but I need to call in my fingerprint team. We’ll need to fingerprint your staff and you, Matt, though I suppose we already have your prints on file.”
Matt showed a flash of a smile at that. “Yeah, I suppose you do from way back when. The file might be a little dusty.”
The police chief rose from his chair. “Remember, no one near the brewhouse.”
Clete left, and Matt’s face grew somber.
“Kate, we have to talk,” he said.
She knew what that meant. She’d last heard those words from Harley Bagger. Would she never hold a job in this town for longer than a month?
“You