Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2) (6 page)

‘No way of telling, yet, when this one happened,’ Daisy said. ‘In fact, if Earl from the Sutherton Auto hadn't nearly gone over the side trying to show off for AnnaLise, I'm not sure anyone would have known it happened at all.’

‘Show off for AnnaLise?’ Daisy's daughter repeated. ‘He just stopped my hubcap from going over. Probably an environmentalist.’

‘Apparently you didn't see the looks he was sneaking at you.’

Ida Mae frowned. ‘Are you talking about Earl Lawling? Now, he's much too old for AnnaLise. Bobby Bradenham is a better fit, or that writer who's staying at the inn . . . Dandy?’

‘Duende,’ AnnaLise supplied. ‘And the last thing I need is a new man in my life.’

Daisy pounced. ‘A “new” man?’

Oh, dear. Having Ben and his family in town was bad enough, without AnnaLise making verbal slips like this. ‘I do date, you know. Just not anyone in particular.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Daisy said slowly.

‘But back to this other accident,’ AnnaLise said to change the subject. ‘When we left, the police were processing the scene where the car went off.’

‘I can't imagine there's any chance someone survived a fall like that,’ Ida Mae said.

AnnaLise had stayed well back from the cliff and hadn't seen the remains of the car. Still, ‘It’s a long way down.’

‘Amen,’ Daisy said. ‘Coy Pitchford tried to point out the wreck to me, but all I could see was a glint of yellow. I honestly don't know how Earl Lawling knew that was a car down there.’

‘Yellow?’ AnnaLise felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

Daisy cocked her head. ‘Yellowish, at least. But I just got a glimpse.’

And so, AnnaLise assumed, it would be no use to ask her mother if the car had been a Porsche.

Eight

‘. . . totaled her car and could have killed poor Josh,’ Daisy was saying.

AnnaLise was still grappling with the possibility that the ‘yellowish’ car that her mother had seen far below them was Tanja Rosewood's Porsche – the one AnnaLise had seen daughter Suzanne standing next to as the girl spoke to Josh.

‘Poor Josh?’ she repeated weakly, wanting to appear she had some grasp of the conversation.

The Porsche parked on Main Street had to be Tanja's – the high-end import wasn't exactly ubiquitous in Sutherton. And Tanja had planned to drive up the mountain this afternoon – in fact, Daisy had given her directions to the bridge near where the car – the yellow car, if AnnaLise's mother was to be believed – had gone over. Had Suzanne been with her? Or Ben?

AnnaLise gave an involuntary shiver. She wanted to ask how sure Daisy was that the car was yellow, but didn't trust herself to bring the Rosewoods into the conversation in a casual enough way that didn't give away her past relationship with Ben. Besides, Daisy already seemed to sense something – guilt, she'd said, and her mother had hit the nail on the head with that one.

‘Yes, poor Josh,’ Daisy was saying. ‘Eames Trail is just south of that bridge. I imagine he was anxious to be home and done with his day, and there you are stalled in the middle of the road like that."

"Eames Trail?" AnnaLise repeated. "There's a road named after the family?"

"More like a long driveway," Ida Mae said. "When the new nine-one-one system was put in, all the roads and trails, be they big or small, had to be named. Most folks just called them after themselves or their animals. Like Ruff Road, down the way. Get it, AnnaLise? R-u-f-f."

"Got it." AnnaLise managed a weak smile. "Cute."

Daisy eyed her daughter. ‘Are you all right?’

AnnaLise pulled herself together. ‘Fine, considering everything. And I'm glad the same is true for you and Josh, though I don't understand why he left before the police got there.’

‘Simple,’ Ida Mae stated.

Daisy frowned at the unkindness. ‘I really don't think he's simple, Ida Mae. I know he spent a lot of time by himself as a boy, but – ’

‘Of course he's not simple,’ Ida Mae said. ‘Why would you think that? I meant his reason for leaving the scene was simple.’

‘And what would it be?’ This could be a very long evening.

Ida Mae shrugged. ‘Joshua Eames has had his run-ins with the law, him hanging out in the woods, drinking and the like. His mother was as wild as they come, so he comes by it honestly, I suppose.’

‘It didn't help that the boy was big for his age so people expected more of him,’ Daisy offered. ‘Or that Joshua was awful at the very things his father loved, like hunting and fishing. Not that Fred had much time for either, what with a wife who loved money and a business that wasn't – ’

‘My point,’ Ida Mae said, glaring at her for the interruption, ‘is that I wouldn't be at all astonished if Joshua Eames is driving without a license.’

‘Nor I,’ Daisy said, nodding. ‘That's why I didn't mention his being there to the chief.’

‘But that's silly,’ AnnaLise said, though truth be told, she hadn't either. ‘Josh, himself, called nine-one-one, and he's probably going to need the police report for his insurance – ’

‘Why? Besides, AnnaLise, we owe him. If it weren't for him, we might still be sitting in that car or worse.’ Daisy said stubbornly. ‘As far as I'm concerned, an unidentified vehicle came at us, but sailed right on past while you were busy bouncing us off that rock wall. End of story.’

Fine. Let Daisy have it her way. ‘Nice deck, Ida Mae.’

‘And how would you know that, either? You've only set foot on the first five boards of it.’

‘Leave the girl alone,’ Ida Mae said, getting up. ‘AnnaLise, can I get you another glass of wine?’

AnnaLise looked at her glass, which was surprisingly low. ‘That would be very nice, but shouldn't we be going?’

‘Going?’ Ida Mae asked. ‘But how?’

AnnaLise felt herself color up. ‘Well, I thought maybe you could give us a ride.’

‘Heaven's, I don't drive down at night. Besides, didn't you say the road was blocked, what with the police vehicles and all?’

‘Well, yes, but we'd hate to presume on your hospit – ’

‘Nonsense. It's my pleasure to put you up and God knows there's all sorts of space. Four bedrooms, remember?’

‘I'd forgotten, honestly,’ Daisy said. ‘How many people can you sleep?’

‘Eight, officially, but I'm certain the skiers manage to fit in a few more on the floor and what-not.’

‘Are you renting the place out in the winter, Ida Mae?’ AnnaLise asked. ‘I'm not sure why, but I thought you stayed on the mountain year-round.’

‘I most certainly did, when Robbie was alive. He loved the snow, and I did, too, long as it behaved itself. I'd tell God, “You keep it on the grass and let the streets stay clean, and we'll get along just fine, thank you very much.”’

AnnaLise laughed, eliciting a chuckle from their hostess. ‘My husband he thought that was funny, too. Said, “Ida Mae, you don't honestly bother God with that, do you?” and I would shrug and tell him, ‘Well, now, Robbie. He
knows
how I feel.’

Ida Mae was still smiling at the memory. Robbie Babb was Ida Mae's late husband. Not to be confused with their son Robbie Jr, Bobby Bradenham or any of the myriad Robbies and Bobbies who seemed to dot the area, possibly because of the large Scottish population that had settled there centuries before.

In fact, if AnnaLise forgot a man's name, she'd trot out Robbie or Bobby – maybe mumble it, so they couldn't tell which one she was saying – and stand a good chance of being right.

Or, at the very worst, getting a polite, ‘No, ma'am, that's my brother.’ Or father, uncle, cousin or neighbor.

‘Ida Mae has a grandbaby now,’ Daisy was saying. ‘Though you certainly wouldn't know it by looking at her.’

‘Robbie Jr and his wife have been trying and trying,’ the new grandmother said, pulling a smartphone out of her pocket. ‘This will likely be their one and only but she's a keeper all right.’

‘Congratulations,’ AnnaLise said, her mind only partially on the conversation. She was still thinking about the yellow speck Daisy had seen in the rocky wilderness at the base of the mountain. ‘Where are Robbie, Jr and,’ she couldn't remember his wife's name, ‘his family living now?’

‘Down to Charlotte.’ Ida Mae rose and gave the phone to her. ‘Isn't she a darling?’

A bald butter-ball with dimples that didn't stop, the baby was undeniably cute, though the only way you could gauge gender was by the tiny pink bow velcroed to the downy fuzz on the top of her head.

‘Adorable,’ AnnaLise said, trying to hand the phone back to the proud grandmother.

‘Oh, there are lots more,’ Ida Mae said, returning to her chair. ‘Just use the touch screen.’

Oh, goody. AnnaLise loved babies, but in her estimation a picture was worth the proverbial thousand words, the emphasis on the singular article ‘a.’

Still, being left to her own thoughts as she scrolled through wasn't so bad. Thank God, with new technology, people didn't make you peer over their shoulders while they showed you shot after shot in a computer slide show anymore.

Ida Mae did, though, keep up a running commentary on her new granddaughter, whose name AnnaLise missed and whose current age she couldn't guess from the pictures.

No matter, the reporter was consumed with other thoughts, the phone in her hand reminding her of her own, on top of her handbag in the other room. Should she try to call Ben? If now, a couple hours after the accident, she remembered that Tanja Rosewood's car was yellow, would it seem so odd that she called to make sure the family was safe?

The truly odd thing might be that she, AnnaLise Griggs, had Ben Rosewood's personal cell phone number. Especially if their acquaintance was as casual as they'd pretended in front of his wife and daughter.

Speaking of the family, wasn't the Porsche a two-seater? If so, Ben or Suzanne could have been with Tanja, but not both of them. The same was true, of course, on the drive from Wisconsin. So how had all three gotten here? Perhaps they'd rented a truck or a van – something that Ben would have driven – to transport Suzanne's clothes and things to school. With a one-way rental, Ben could turn-in the truck here and drive back to Wisconsin in the Porsche with –

‘Wouldn't it, AnnaLise?’

Daughter looked at mother. ‘Pardon?’

‘Ida Mae offered to drive us home tomorrow morning after breakfast.’ Daisy raised her eyebrows at AnnaLise.

‘Oh, I'm sorry. I was just enjoying the photos,’ she said. ‘That's very nice of you – above and beyond the call of duty, really.’

‘Nonsense,’ Ida Mae said. ‘We're practically family. Did you know I used to babysit for your mother?’

‘No,’ AnnaLise said, looking back and forth between the women. At sixty-five, Ida Mae was fifteen years older than Daisy, so it made sense. ‘I had no idea your family was here that long ago.’

The oldest of the three women laughed. ‘That long ago – you make it sound like ancient history.’

‘Not ancient, certainly,’ AnnaLise said, ‘but has anybody done a history of Sutherton? Or documented who settled here and when?’ She'd had an idea prompted by the memory games the neurologist had suggested for Daisy, and this seemed an opportune time to trot it out.

‘Not that I know of,’ Ida Mae said. ‘There was that lady in Foscoe, who wrote up something and sold it at her jam and honey stand on the highway, but I think that was just her own family.’

Daisy was regarding her daughter. ‘Whatever are you thinking, AnnaLise? That you'd do it?’

In truth, AnnaLise was trying to think about anything other than the Rosewoods. ‘Heaven's, no. I haven't even started combing through Dickens Hart's journals toward doing his memoirs yet. No, I was thinking more of a blog on the town website, maybe, where people could share their memories and family stories.’

‘Sounds like fun,’ Ida Mae said. ‘But does the town even have a website?’

‘Joy Tamarack and Sheree Pepper have been talking about doing one for visitors,’ Daisy contributed, though her face had turned guarded at AnnaLise's mention of ‘memories.’

Sheree Pepper was the owner of the Sutherton Inn and one of AnnaLise's oldest friends. Though AnnaLise hadn't run this brainstorm past Sheree or Joy, who she was also close to, she was certain they would buy in. Especially if it were to help Daisy.

‘Well, I think it's a fabulous idea,’ Ida Mae said, getting to her feet. ‘But I'm starving. Shall I get dinner started?’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ AnnaLise said, getting up to hand Ida Mae her phone.

As their hostess took it, the thing gave off the tweet-tweet signaling a text message.

‘Sorry,’ Ida Mae said. ‘Barbara Jean – she's the one who lives on Ruff Road – was having stomach pains earlier and her daughter insisted she call down for the paramedics.’

Slipping on reading glasses, Ida Mae surveyed the message and typed in one of her own, before slipping the phone back into her pocket. ‘All's well, thank the Lord. Though it took the fire department over an hour to get there, can you believe that?’

Daisy glanced at AnnaLise. ‘Given the two accidents where we were, the town's emergency services were probably severely taxed.’

Or they couldn't find 'Ruff Road,' AnnaLise thought. ‘Did they take your neighbor in for observation?’

‘No, but they did confiscate her North Carolina Hot Sauce. Honestly, you'd think the woman would learn.’ Ida Mae waved her guests into the house.

‘Truly, Ida Mae,’ AnnaLise said, ‘thank you so much for both the hospitality and for driving us home tomorrow.’

‘Not a problem at all,’ Ida Mae said. ‘I have to see Kathleen at Sutherton Realty anyway and work out the rental arrangements for the ski season.’

Ida Mae and Daisy continued through the living room into the kitchen, while AnnaLise went to retrieve her handbag and the cell on top of it from the couch. The room was dark now that the sun was fully down, and she could see a red light on the phone, signaling a new text message.

She picked it up with trepidation, but found only a Twitter from the newspaper where she worked in Wisconsin, a tease of the next day's special section on fall lawn care. Glancing toward the kitchen door where the other two women were talking she punched in Ben's number.

It was impulsive – the text equivalent of drunk-dialing – but in this case the act was driven more by anxiety than the wine AnnaLise'd had. The affair might be over, but she'd loved the man and not knowing if he was OK was intolerable. If all was well and he was with his wife and daughter, AnnaLise could claim that she was simply being hospitable, making sure they didn't need anything during their –