Page 69 of Tackle

The place was freezing.

Why wasn’t the heater working?

Depositing her bag behind the bar, she went over to the thermostat located on the back wall. The digital display flashed fifty-nine. Almost ten degrees colder than the preset temperature of sixty-eight.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Mack appeared in the dining room. “The kitchen is colder than the walk-in freezer.”

“I don’t know why this damn thing’s not clicking on.” Emerson hit a few buttons but nothing happened. Frustrated, she slammed the cover closed back over the control panel. “Well, I guess crank up all the ovens and prop the kitchen door open. Let’s try to heat this place up.”

In the meantime, she whipped out her phone to call a repair company to see if they could come out pronto. She couldn’t open the restaurant without a working heater.

“I think I’ve found your problem.”

Emerson glanced up from filling ketchup dispensers as Steve, the HVAC tech, came up to the bar she was working behind.

There was only an hour left until it was time to open and she crossed her fingers it would be an easy fix. Honestly, she was just grateful the guy had been able to come out so fast. Well, she’d be grateful until she saw the bill with the extra service charge tacked on.

“The unit was tampered with.”

“What?” She put the cap back on the jug of ketchup and made her way out from behind the bar. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am. You can see where someone jimmied the housing to get inside,” Steve stated.

“Who would do such a thing?” And then the lightbulb clicked. Holly!

“More than likely, kids,” Steve gave his best guess, but Emerson knew, deep in her bones, kids weren’t the culprit.

She followed him out to the back alley, passing through the kitchen that, thankfully with all the ovens on, had warmed up considerably.

She looked at the unit Steve pointed to. He’d already taken off the outside housing and she had no idea what she was looking at. “Do you have a time frame on how long it will take to fix it? We’re supposed to open in an hour.”

“Depends,” he shrugged. “I won’t know the extent of the damage until I take it apart.”

“Okay, well, get started, I guess.” No way around it, she needed the heat to be working. She pulled out her phone. “But let me get a few pictures of everything before you do.” She planned on showing them to the police. This was now Holly’s third offense. There had to be something they could do.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Kelly, but we’ve ruled out Holly Adams as a possible suspect.”

Emerson stood outside The Parting Glass, Oz beside her with his arm around her shoulders as they talked with the police. It was early afternoon and the heating was finally fixed but it would still be a few hours for the place to warm up enough for her to open. They missed the lunch rush but thankfully the day wouldn’t be a total loss as she’d be able to open in time for the dinner crowd.

“I don’t understand. How can that be?” Emerson was a bit stupefied.

“Ms. Adams is no longer in the state and we’ve been informed by her parents that she hasn’t been for the past week.”

“Were you able to verify that?” Oz demanded. “It seems rather coincidental Emerson’s property was vandalized so soon after the woman threw a brick through her window.”

Exactly what she wanted to know. Her arm around Oz’s waist tightened in a show of approval.

“The particulars involve confidential matters, but we were able to corroborate her whereabouts with multiple sources. There's zero likelihood that Ms. Adams is the culprit. Her parents asked us to apologize on their daughter’s behalf and did authorize for me to tell you that she’s getting the help she needs now. I'm afraid that's all I’m at liberty to say.”

“Thank you for your time, officer.” Oz held out his hand.

The officer shook it. “It's no problem, Mr. Olson. We’ll let you know if anything comes up, but I wouldn't hold out too much hope. These things are usually hard to trace without much to go on.” The officer nodded at Emerson and continued, “Ms. Kelly, I'd look into getting a padlocked cage for that unit. This was likely random, but it might save you trouble in the future.”

“So, I guess that’s that,” Emerson said as Oz steered her back into the pub. “I’d been so certain it was Holly, now that we know it’s not, I’m not sure what to think. But at least we know it’s safe to get rid of the security detail.”

“Not yet.”

Emerson leaned away from Oz’s side to better see him. “What do you mean? You heard the officer, it wasn’t Holly.”

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