Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2) (17 page)

‘Yes, but more than that.’ Joy leaned over across the table to waggle her four digits in front of AnnaLise's nose.

‘They all let
you
, my friend, off the hook.’ Joy leaned back. ‘At least on the Suzanne/Josh incident, if not the wife/sports car one.’

Twenty-two

Despite Joy's reassurance, AnnaLise didn't sleep that night. In fact, she'd very nearly unlocked her father's gun case to stash a loaded handgun under her bed.

The only reason she hadn't, in fact, was that the whirl in her mind made her afraid she'd be more dangerous to herself or Daisy than she would be to a bad guy.

Whoever that bad guy was.

Ben? She and Joy had certainly constructed a case for that. But in the light of day and after a cup of coffee, it seemed over the top.

‘They're saying Joshua Eames killed that girl,’ Daisy said, putting down the
Charlotte Observer
as she got up to get the coffee pot.

Charlotte was two hours southeast of Sutherton and the very fact the daily paper of North Carolina's largest city was carrying the story was an indication of widespread interest. And it was only going to get worse. If the deaths of Ben's wife and daughter hadn't gone national by tonight, AnnaLise would shred her reporter's pad.

‘Such a shame,’ Daisy continued, filling AnnaLise's cup and then her own. ‘This will kill his father.’

‘You think Josh did it?’ AnnaLise asked, surprised. ‘I thought you liked him.’

‘I do. Or at least I did until
he
did what he did.’

AnnaLise took a sip of coffee, despite the fact her stomach was already churning. ‘Innocent until proven guilty, Daisy. They have to convince a jury.’

‘According to this,’ she slid the paper over to AnnaLise's side of the table before sitting back down, ‘it won't be all that hard. They're even looking into the possibility that he had something to do with the death of the girl's mother.’

AnnaLise should have felt ‘off the hook,’ as Joy put it, but having Josh take her place there wasn't much of a relief. ‘Have they gotten a statement from him?’

Daisy shook her head. ‘Article says he's still unconscious.’

‘That would have been from last night, when they went to press,’ AnnaLise said. ‘We could get more up-to-the-minute information online.’

‘You go right ahead and do that,’ Daisy said, finishing her coffee. ‘But I prefer the more direct route.’

‘Calling the hospital?’

‘Heaven's no.’ She rinsed out her cup and put it in the sink. ‘Mama's. If it's not being gossiped about, it's not worth knowing.’

‘Wait,’ AnnaLise said, ‘I'm coming with you.’

***

The place was packed.

‘Move those menu boards there, AnnieLeez,’ Mama said, ‘and you can sit in my booth.’

AnnaLise did as she was told, stacking the dry erase boards on the bench next to her.

Daisy slid in across from her. ‘Told you everyone would be here.’

No exaggeration. Every seat was taken. ‘Shouldn't we help pour coffee or something? I've never seen Mama's like this.’

‘Believe me, you don't want to get in Phyllis' way,’ Daisy said, reaching across to pick up one of the menu boards. ‘Oh, dear, she mis-spelled “casserole” again. I don't know why she doesn't just wait for me to do these boards. And besides, my handwriting's better than hers, too.’

It was an old argument between the two friends, one that AnnaLise knew to ignore. ‘You know, maybe Mama,’ she paused to let the woman in question pass by in response to the jangling of the electric door chime, ‘Maybe she should “lighten” the menu after what her doctor said about her blood pressure.’

‘Cholesterol, not blood pressure, and you're smart to not let her hear you. She
is
trying.’

‘Really? The menu looks the same to me.’

‘Right here, see?’

‘Between the “Tuna Noodle Casserole” and “Scalloped Cream Corn Topped with Buttered Ritz Crackers”? I can't quite make it out.’

‘Steamed br . . .’ Daisy peered at it, then sighed. ‘She's gone and spelled “broccoli” wrong as well.’

‘Looks like “brassiere,”’ AnnaLise said, squinting.

‘I'd appreciate your changing that, before I get another complaint.’ Chuck was standing next to their table.

AnnaLise slid sideways to make room for him, relieved that her friend seemed to have warmed some since they spoke in his office yesterday. ‘Another? You're kidding right? Who would complain to the police chief about a restaurant's menu?’

‘It was “Peking Duck,”’ Daisy said ruefully. ‘And both words were mangled. Not our finest hour.’

‘Peking . . . ohh.’

‘“Ohh,” is right,’ Chuck said. ‘How much did you spend to send this girl away to college, Daisy?’

AnnaLise laughed – felt like for the first time in days, and maybe it had been. ‘A veritable pittance compared to what U-Mo would have been.’ The reference to the University of the Mountain reminded her of Suzanne Rosewood and the smile faded. ‘Speaking of the university, we heard about Suzanne and Josh.’

‘It's horrible,’ Daisy said, turning over Chuck's coffee mug for him, toward Mama's next round of coffee pouring.

‘I'll tell you straight, Daisy,’ Chuck said. ‘I've never seen anything like what's been happening here the last couple of weeks.’

‘And all since AnnaLise arrived,’ Daisy said.

‘Thanks, mother-of-mine.’ AnnaLise slid the creamer to Chuck, slopping a bit of it.

‘I don't have my coffee yet.’ He didn't look at her.

‘If you put the cream in now, before the coffee is poured you won't have to stir it.’

‘Your daughter's an odd bird.’ This again, directed to Daisy. ‘Does she give this much thought to everything?’

‘Regrettably, no,’ AnnaLise answered before Daisy could. ‘Only the things that don't matter.’

Chuck glanced at her. ‘Self-awareness is the first step, they say.’

‘I'm sorry.’ AnnaLise didn't know if she was apologizing for not telling Chuck about her relationship with Ben, or the relationship in general. Chuck seemed angry about both, though AnnaLise would have thought that he, who had feared people's reaction to his own secret, would under –

‘Sorry for what?’ Daisy had looked up from the menu board.

‘Spilt milk,’ Chuck injected quickly, holding AnnaLise's eyes as he took the pitcher and poured about half of it in his cup.

‘Have a little coffee with your cream,’ AnnaLise said. Chuck's doctoring of his caffeine was a long-standing joke. She slid the tall glass sugar dispenser to him as well.

Chuck shook his head, and reached for a small plastic bin. ‘I've switched to Splenda.’

‘Ah, health kick, huh?’

‘I do what I can.’ Chuck tore open three sweeteners and dumped them in, cocking his head toward Daisy, who had gone back to the menu.

AnnaLise shook her head in answer to Chuck's unspoken question. No, her mother did
not
know about her affair with Ben. Then the journalist clasped her hands, as if in prayer, aiming the knuckles toward him.
And please don't tell her.

Chuck nodded as Mama buzzed up to the table. She peered into his cup. ‘Hand to God, you're going to run me right out of business with all that cream.’ She filled the rest of the cup with coffee and was gone.

He looked down at the brown-tinged combination. ‘Now you've gone and done it.’

‘What?’

‘Got me in trouble with Mama.’

‘For using all that cream? You've done that for years.’

‘But
she
didn't know it. I'd just ask for half a cup of coffee and then add the cream. She thought I was
saving
her money.’

‘The police chief is afraid of Phyllis “Mama” Balisteri?’

‘Hell, AnnaLise, everybody is afraid of Mama, you included. Now are you going to ask me about the shooting?’

‘If she doesn't, I will,’ Daisy said under her breath, still seemingly entranced by the menu board.

‘The news is reporting that Josh killed Suzanne and then turned the gun on himself.’

‘That's the way it looks,’ Chuck said, drinking his coffee.

AnnaLise was used to asking questions, so she decided to conduct the discussion as she would an interview. ‘Who’ and ‘what’ accounted for, she turned to ‘where’ and ‘when.’ ‘The shooting was at the Eames' house, right? Was Fred there?’

‘This was late afternoon, just before five. He wasn't home yet.’

‘Likely working,’ Daisy said, looking up. ‘Which is where Josh should have been. That reminds me, AnnaLise. Didn't you say Scotty was supposed to wire the garage today?’

‘That's what Fred said yesterday,’ AnnaLise said. ‘But I didn't see him when we left, and I'm certainly not going to bother Fred about it now.’

‘Well, don't try to deal with Scotty directly,’ Chuck said, setting down his cup. ‘The man is a nasty piece of work and his employees even worse. I'd love to close him down.’

‘Should we even be using them?’ AnnaLise asked, thinking back to the Scotty's truck that tailgated them on the mountain the day the Spyder had been totaled. In fact, if it hadn't been for the shiny black panel truck, she and Daisy would have stayed on Ridge Road instead of turning onto the supposed dead end and there mightn't not have even
been
an accident.

Chuck was shrugging. ‘Unfortunately, if you want anything electrical done, you don't have much choice. The company has a veritable monopoly.’

‘I hear Scotty threatened the last electrician who dared set up shop here in Sutherton,’ Daisy said. ‘And don't even think about having him work on wiring he didn't install in the first place.’

‘That's ridiculous. How can— You leaving, Chuck?’

The chief was digging bills out of his pocket, tossing some of them on the table, as he stood up. ‘’Fraid so.’

‘Wait!’ There was so much AnnaLise wanted to know, but wasn't sure how to find out. She also wasn't sure what to say, if anything, to Chuck about Ben's possible role. ‘I assume you've talked to Ben Rosewood? Is he . . . umm, how is he doing?’ she settled on.

While AnnaLise's motive for talking to Ben was clear to her, it obviously wasn't to Chuck. His face changed. ‘He’s at the inn. I suggest you ask him yourself.’

As Chuck left, AnnaLise shot her mother a look. ‘Way to go, Daisy. If you hadn't brought up the electrician, I might have actually gotten some more information from Chuck.’

‘I don't think it's me you're irritated with,’ Daisy said lightly. ‘Besides, don't flatter yourself, dear. The chief only gives out as much information as he wants people to know, even you. Are you going to go see your friend?’

‘He's not my. . . yes, I thought I'd go by and offer our sympathy. Do you want to come?’ She made the offer, hoping for a negative answer.

‘No, I'll stay here with Phyllis. The place is an absolute zoo today, and she'll need help with more than just her spelling.’

AnnaLise got up. ‘I thought you said we should stay out of the way.’

‘No, dear. I said
you
should stay out of the way. You do tend to complicate matters.’

AnnaLise couldn't argue with that. ‘I may also stop by the hospital. Maybe I can see Josh.’

‘The hospital is thirty miles away, on the far side of Boone,’ Daisy said. ‘What if you “stop by” and they don't allow you to see him?’

‘Well, then, I'll talk to his father. This can’t be easy for Mr Eames.’

‘When you see Fred, would you ask about Scotty? I know it’s bad timing, as you say, but winter is coming, and I'd like to get the car back into the garage.’

Daisy had a point. It was already the middle of September and snow could arrive in the High Country at any time.

‘Sure,’ AnnaLise said, ‘Might as well kill two birds with one . . .’

She let it drift away, remembering she'd said the very thing about Ben last night – if he'd killed Tanja and successfully pinned it on AnnaLise, the woman who'd spurned him.

Given recent events, though, AnnaLise couldn't even begin to figure out body counts and who was wielding the stone.

Twenty-three

While Joy Tamarack had guessed Benjamin Rosewood's age at forty, today he looked every bit his forty-six years. Plus another decade.

AnnaLise was again sitting in the Sutherton Inn's parlor on the red chair. Ben Rosewood was across from her on the couch, his head in his hands, tousled hair covering his eyes.

‘That bastard killed my daughter. And for what?’

‘Maybe we'll find out when he wakes up.’

‘A bullet went through his head. If he lives, it will likely be as a vegetable.’

‘He was . . . he shot himself in the head?’

‘First he killed my daughter, then the coward ate his gun.’ When Ben raised his head, his eyes were blazing.

‘But why?’ AnnaLise asked, feeling sick. ‘What could be his possible motive?’

‘Like I told your chief, I believe Suze tumbled to what he'd done.’

‘Meaning your wife's accident.’

‘It wasn't an accident!’ He slammed his fist down on the end table next to him, making the lamp and cell phone on it jump.

AnnaLise, who had jumped, too, sat up straighter in her chair. ‘Your latest theory – after blaming Joy and the spa, of course – was that I had something to do with it. Nice of you to share that with Chief Greystone’

'I'm sorry, but
someone
shot out the Porsche's tire, resulting in the car going over the cliff and killing my wife. I didn't imagine that fact.
Or
that you called me shortly thereafter and hung up.’

‘I started to call to see if you were OK. I thought better of it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because you and I were no longer a couple, below-board or not. I didn't have the right.’

‘Or the responsibility.’ He looked up, his eyes regretful. ‘I did love you, you know. Of all the women I've known, you were –’

She wasn't buying the puppy dog act. ‘– the only one you reported to the police?’

Ben put his head in his hands again. ‘I . . . I had to tell the chief about the affair. I knew he'd find out eventually, so it was best to be proactive.’

‘By throwing me under the truck?’ AnnaLise had another thought. ‘You knew that if the affair was discovered, you'd be the prime suspect. The husband always is – I can't remember how many times I've heard even you say that.’