Murder Brewed At Home (Microbrewery Mysteries Book 3) by Belle Knudson Read Free Book Online Page A

was.
                  "You sure I can't get you anything?" he said.
                  "No, I'm fine. I just want to chat a little bit about Kyle."
                  "What do you need to know about Kyle?" he said to his cutting board as he worked a knife around an onion.
                  "Well, for starters, I know he was a bit of a philanderer and—"
                  "Do you have any evidence for this accusation?"
                  "Not exactly."
                  "Uh huh," he said, continually watching his knife.
                  "Mr. Chu, the night Kyle died, he went out for a run and turned on his running app. As a part of his network, you may have been able to see his route. Could there be any reason you know of that Kyle would have wanted you to know where he was and when he would be there?"
                  "Offhand, no. But is that really a theory? I mean, people turn on their apps when they go running. Why do they need an ulterior motive to turn them on?"
                  I could see this was going to be one of those interviews that are about as much fun as a root canal without Novocain.
                  "Did you know Kyle outside of the runners' network?"
                  "Nope. We hooked up there."
                  "What did you think of him personally?"
                  "I didn’t know him personally. Through the social media interaction, I'd say he was an ok guy."
                  "I know he'd make certain off-color jokes about cheating on his wife. What did you think of that?"
                  "I really didn’t care. They were just jokes. No one can joke anymore these days without someone analyzing it to death."
                  "Well," I said, unable to hold back any longer, "anyone who says something like that without knowing all the facts is in danger of the listener forming the perception of him as a raging ignoramus."
                  He finally looked up from his cutting board, mid-chop.
                  "I think I made myself perfectly clear. Kyle's marriage was in the dumps. He was clearly no longer interested in his wife. He goes on a social media network and starts making jokes about leaving her. Now, knowing this, please don’t make the idiotic assumption that they were 'just jokes' again, please."
                  "You're no longer welcome here in my home," Allan Chu said calmly. Then he turned back to the cutting board. "My wife and kid will be home soon. I have to get dinner ready. You know the way out."
                  I turned to leave, kicking myself for allowing my anger to get in the way of the interview. I guess the private eye biz was not unlike any other craft: you learn by trial and error.
                  Still, my job here wasn't finished. I turned back to Allan and asked him the million-dollar question:
                  "Where were you that night, Allan?"
                  He looked up at me, again in mid-chop. "I was here at home with my family," he said. He resumed preparing his dinner as I left the house.
     
    #
     
                  It was time to go back to work. I figured I could put in an appearance, check my emails, and negotiate with Gerry to be the acting CEO for a few weeks while I cleared my head.
                  Upon entering the brewery, and getting a whiff of that fresh pizza dough smell of malted barley, the citrus tang of hops, and that impossible-to-classify aroma of yeast that beer geeks like me describe as "estery,” I felt like I was seeing a long-lost friend.
                  I didn't want this. I wanted to come in here and say, "Man, oh man, who in their right mind would choose this for a living? Giant stainless-steel tanks and fermentation chambers and stacks of