Running on Empty

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Running on Empty Page 11

by Sandra Balzo


  'This is different, though. Mama Philomena's is an institution. Sure hope if Ma is there, she's already seated.' Bobby seemed to be weighing the inconvenience of his mother not cooking for him with the convenience of her already having snagged a table where he could join her.

  'Seated where?' his mother's voice asked from AnnaLise's blindside. 'And have I not asked you repeatedly not to call me that?'

  'Ma... Mother,' Bobby said, turning. 'I didn't know you were there.'

  'Obviously.' She turned to AnnaLise with a smile. 'I should be waiting dinner for him, while he is dilly-dallying with you, Little One.'

  'Just like old times,' AnnaLise said, a tad too brightly. There was nothing like going home to make you feel like a kid again. And not always in a good way. 'Did you eat at Mama's?'

  'Oh, heaven's no,' Mrs. B said, dismissing the idea with a wave of her hand. 'Such a madhouse. I glanced in the window and saw dear Lorraine trying to deal with that queue. I knew it was hopeless.'

  As she spoke, developer David Sabatino came storming out the door of Mama's, wife and kids scurrying after him. 'Thirty-minute wait,' he was muttering. 'Who do they think they are?'

  'New Yorkers,' Mrs. Bradenham said, shaking her head. 'So impatient.' She turned to Bobby. 'Pizza night?'

  'Sounds good,' he said, his face lighting up. 'Want to join us, AnnaLise?'

  'Thanks, but no.' She restrained a shudder and hooked a thumb toward the restaurant's door. 'I'd best eat here if I know what's good for me.'

  She loved Bobby, but 'pizza night' at the Bradenham Mansion sounded like a scene out of Psycho. Bobby and 'Ma' enjoying a 'slice' at their dining-room table, while AnnaLise lay sprawled and naked in the shower down the hall, tomato sauce and pepperoni grease slowly... circling... the...drain.

  Still smiling at the thought as she entered Mama's, AnnaLise managed to conveniently ignore the fact that she, too, was dining with Mother tonight.

  Both of them, actually.

  'Did you leave the garage door open?' Daisy asked AnnaLise.

  The daughter paused with her key in the front door of the Griggs' apartment. It was just after ten. 'No. I closed our side after I parked and motioned to Mrs. Peebly that I'd get hers as well. I thought about leaving her side open, so she wouldn't have to get out of the car again when she got back, but I figured our neighbor would have my hide.'

  'I swear that woman is losing it. She probably locked her side when she came home and walked out mine, forgetting to close it.' Daisy said, pulling up at Mrs. Peebly's garage door unsuccessfully. 'Sure enough.'

  AnnaLise, who had followed her mother over from Mama's, peered into the garage. 'I don't know how either of you can see anything.' She felt for the plastic globe hanging on the wall. Amazingly, the light went on, albeit dimly. 'Hey, you replaced the battery,' she said.

  'From five years ago? Of course I did,' Daisy said. 'Just because you're gone, you think things don't get done?'

  'Honestly? Yes. But it's not just batteries. It's the whole town. I can't believe how much has changed.'

  'Life goes on,' Daisy said, moving into the shadowy garage. 'People get sick, grow old.' She turned back toward AnnaLise and the headlights of a car turning the corner reflected in her eyes. 'Even die.'

  The combination of the words and her mother's catlike pupils gave AnnaLise goose bumps. 'Don't say that,' she said, rubbing at her arms.

  Daisy laughed. 'What's wrong — somebody step on your grave?'

  'I don't like this... dank cave,' AnnaLise said. 'I'm putting in electricity and garage door openers, whether you and Mrs. Peebly like it or not.'

  'You're such a fraidy-cat,' Daisy said. 'I bet you haven't been down in our cellar since middle school.'

  The very definition of dank.

  'Elementary,' AnnaLise said, a little hurt. Daisy rarely made fun of her daughter's fears. 'And calling that crawl space under the old market a cellar is being overly generous.'

  'About three feet of headroom, generous?' Daisy suggested with a smile.

  'More like four. Even in third grade, I couldn't stand up in it, and Bobby, even less so. But don't change the subject. I left Scotty the Electrician a message. Said we wanted proper doors and locks, with remote controls.'

  She gestured toward the umbrella Mrs. Peebly had jammed into the track in place of the now-defunct metal lock bar. The umbrella had partially opened and hung there by its beak like some colossal green and white bird.

  'I told her it was a silly idea,' Daisy said, shaking her head.

  'And why an umbrella?' AnnaLise nodded toward a black wooden dowel that must have been hidden behind Mrs. Peebly's umbrella earlier. 'This would work better.' Anything would work better.

  AnnaLise nudged the dowel with her toe, accidentally tipping it away from the wall. Not until she lunged to grab hold, did she realize the thing was polished, not rough. It also sported a brass knob on one end.

  A sticky knob, at that.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Among all holidays secular and sacred, Labor Day has stood above all others in Sutherton.

  'We should just call it, Get-the-Hell-Out Day,' Sheree Pepper said, quoting herself. Again.

  'Does have a nice ring to it.' AnnaLise waved to Mayor Bobby Bradenham, sitting in the parade's lead vehicle, an apple-red, Chrysler Sebring convertible.

  Bobby returned the gesture with a suitably mayoral smile plastered on his face. Every once in a while, he'd pick someone out and give him or her a thumbs-up.

  'Bobby doesn't even register us.' AnnaLise was standing with Sheree on the beach side of Main Street, across from Mama's.

  'It's the huge throng,' her friend said dryly. 'Who mostly have no idea who he is.' She shouted, 'Go home!', not to Bobby, but to the crowd on the sidelines.

  'Fine attitude for someone whose livelihood depends on tourism,' AnnaLise said. 'Besides, the banner in front does read "Mayor".'

  'Yeah, and the doors say "Courtesy of Sutherton Mountain Chrysler/Jeep". For all we know, the cheering is because they think he's a car dealer in a flashy convertible.'

  For the umpteenth time, AnnaLise obsessively wiped her right hand on her sundress, like she could rub away the sensation of congealing blood on Ichiro Katou's cane.

  She hadn't told Sheree about the discovery the night before. Hell, AnnaLise was proud of the fact that she'd picked up the phone — only after washing her hands, of course — and called Chuck. Every fiber of her being told Daisy's daughter to get rid of the thing — so clearly the murder weapon.

  Because, of course, Katou had been murdered. Hit on the head with his own cane and then plunged into the lake.

  But... how had the thing gotten into the Griggs' garage?

  Across the street, Mama and Daisy were perched on chairs from inside the restaurant, closed for the holiday. Daisy seemed utterly unaffected by what had happened.

  Even when it happened.

  In contrast, AnnaLise had panicked, remembering all those old movies where the idiot good-guy picks up the smoking gun or bloody knife — or, in this case, sticky cane — and gets blamed for the crime.

  Which was ridiculous, certainly. Chuck would never think that. Could never.

  Unless AnnaLise tried to get rid of the cane. Hid it, like someone had planted it in the garage. A game of Hot Potato. Here you take it. No, you take it.

  So she'd called him.

  Chuck had arrived in street clothes, accompanied by two uniformed deputies and a crime-scene investigator. God knows what the neighbors thought was going on, but so far no one had mentioned anything. At least, that had reached AnnaLise's ears.

  After ten on the eve of the big Labor Day celebration. Maybe they'd all gone to bed early in preparation.

  Bed. AnnaLise had finally gotten there at about one a.m. and though the fresh, air-dried sheets had been lovely, she couldn't quiet the questions rattling around in her head.

  Had the cane been there earlier, when she was talking to Mrs. Peebly? AnnaLise couldn't be sure, especially since the
thing would have been obscured by her neighbor's umbrella.

  When Chuck asked the same question, AnnaLise suggested he talk to Mrs. Peebly, who might have noticed it either then or when she removed the umbrella to 'lock' her side of the garage.

  The first of five emergency vehicles — a fire engine — drew even with Sheree and AnnaLise. Along with the high school marching band, assorted kids pulling wagons or riding bikes and a couple of trailered boats, they would constitute the parade.

  The ladder truck hit its air horn and AnnaLise, despite her 'police-beat' experience, jumped, hand leaping to her heart.

  A concerned look from Sheree. 'As I was saying, he's just gone. Paid up until the end of September, but—'

  AnnaLise tuned back in. 'Are you talking about James Duende?'

  Her friend's eyes narrowed even further. 'Who the hell else have we been talking about? I think Daisy's beginning to rub off on you.'

  'I saw him last night.'

  'Jim?' Sheree asked. 'Where?'

  'He passed by my mother's kitchen window,' AnnaLise said. 'Bobby and I had been sitting at the table when I stood up to get the pitcher of margaritas and there was James, on Second Street.'

  'You had margaritas and didn't invite me?' Sheree seemed more concerned about the social slight than the abrupt disappearance of her guest. And, presumably, lover.

  'It was just spur of the moment,' AnnaLise said truthfully. 'With Ichiro's death and all, I thought Bobby might want to talk.'

  'How very sensitive of you,' Sheree sniffed, not appeased.

  'But now Duende is missing? Are you sure?' AnnaLise raised her voice to be heard over the whoop-whoop siren of an ambulance and accompanying applause of the onlookers.

  Sheree shrugged. 'All I can tell you is that he didn't sleep in his bed last night.'

  'And exactly how would you know?'

  Genetically incapable of embarrassment, Sheree just smiled. 'Why, when I went to clean his room, of course. Whatever else were you thinking?'

  'Nada,' AnnaLise said, as the emergency vehicle passed, leaving a clear view of the street. Parade components were kept generously spaced, lest the event last less than even the ten total minutes allotted.

  On the other side of the street, Mama and Daisy had been joined by Chuck.

  AnnaLise hadn't seen him approach, so she assumed he'd come from around the corner on Second Street. Mrs. Peebly's house had been dark last night, and the chief, rather than wake the nonagenarian, said he planned to speak to her that next — meaning, this — morning.

  Apparently, he had.

  'Excuse me,' AnnaLise said to Sheree. 'I need to talk with Chuck about something.'

  Waiting out a four-wheeled, cotton-candy vendor, AnnaLise nevertheless looked both ways before crossing the street.

  'Parade comes from only one direction you know.' Bobby Bradenham was behind her.

  'It's the pedestrians that can't be trusted,' AnnaLise said. 'What did you do, go AWOL? The parade's not over.'

  'It is if you're in the lead car. Four blocks of smiling and waving and your duty is done.'

  AnnaLise hesitated. She'd initially thought the fewer people who knew where the cane had been found, the better, but Chuck's presence here meant the truth was going to come out, and soon. Best that Bobby hear it from her.

  'Listen,' she said, stopping short of where Chuck stood talking to Mama and Daisy in their chairs. 'I haven't mentioned it to Sheree or anyone else this morning, but I found Ichiro's cane last night.'

  'You did?' Bobby seemed astonished. 'Where?'

  AnnaLise swallowed. 'My mother's garage.'

  'Your...' He glanced at the threesome and whispered, 'Did you report it?'

  'Of course,' AnnaLise said. 'I mean, I had to, right?'

  'Right,' Bobby said. 'Was the... was it... hidden?'

  'Call it semi-plain sight.' She had to admit confiding in someone — other than Chuck, of course — felt good.

  'Semi-plain sight?' Bobby asked.

  'Leaning against the wall inside, by the door jamb. The thing was behind an umbrella, so I don't know how long it had been there.'

  'What'd she say?'

  Bobby was speaking so quietly, AnnaLise wasn't sure she'd hear him correctly. 'She?'

  'Daisy.' He looked at AnnaLise's blank face. 'Your mother.'

  'I know who Daisy is.' Recalling Sheree's recent comment on 'rubbing off', AnnaLise's voice rose against her will. 'Are you insinuating my mother put it there?'

  'Shh.' Bobby held up his hands to quiet her and glanced around. 'I don't know any more than you just told me.'

  'That's right. You don't,' AnnaLise said angrily, then considerably softened. 'So why are you jumping to conclusions?'

  'I'm not,' Bobby said, 'but...'

  'It's Mrs. Peebly's garage, too, after all, and nobody's blaming her. Maybe she found the cane and put it in the garage, thinking it might come in handy some day. Instead of her walker.'

  'Pretty optimistic of her, at age ninety.'

  'But a spry ninety,' AnnaLise said stubbornly.

  'Enough to be hiking around the lake?' As AnnaLise tried to turn away, Bobby grabbed her arm. 'I'm sorry, but ever—'

  'Ever since I got here all hell has broken loose?' AnnaLise completed for him. 'Believe me, I'm very aware.' She shook off his hand.

  'Not just since you got here. Even before.'

  She could feel rage rising in her. So much for the joy of 'confiding'. 'You're talking about the blood drive. You're saying that was the first "incident".'

  He nodded tightly.

  'You are wrong, you hear me?' If they were the same height, she'd have been in his face. As it was, AnnaLise had to settle for being around his breastplate. 'Daisy had nothing to do with any of this, Bobby. The accident with your mother was just that, an accident. Leave. Daisy. Alone.' She punctuated each word with her index finger.

  Point made, if not necessarily taken, AnnaLise Griggs turned away and collided with the chief of police.

  'For the last time,' Chuck said. 'I'm not targeting your mother.'

  The three old schoolmates were sitting in Chuck's office, the parade, mercifully, having ended a few minutes earlier.

  'Bobby here said you were.' Or would. Or should. AnnaLise was still being stubborn, mostly because she felt bewildered by how angry she'd become. And at one — or two — of her oldest, dearest friends.

  The closer of which was now the mayor of her hometown, sitting in the chair next to her and across the desk from the chief.

  'I did not,' Bobby said. 'I merely asked—'

  'Enough, already,' Chuck thundered. 'This is why law enforcement in a small town is such a pain in the ass. Everyone's a buttinsky.'

  Now both Bobby and AnnaLise looked at him.

  'I'm just saying.' The chief centered a piece of paper on the desk in front of him. 'So here's what we know and, I should add, this is all — or will be — public knowledge.'

  He raised his thumb. 'One, there was blood on the cane belonging to Ichiro Katou.'

  Bobby flinched.

  'Two.' Index finger. 'Mrs. Peebly is absolutely positive...'

  AnnaLise leaned forward.

  '… that she's not sure if the cane was there or not when she put her car away yesterday.'

  A released breath AnnaLise hadn't realized she'd been holding. 'Maybe Mrs. Peebly's covering for someone.'

  'If only,' Chuck said. 'When I knocked on your neighbor's door this morning, all she was wearing was her nightgown. A diaphanous nightgown. Any cover-up would have been much appreciated, believe me.'

  'Diaphanous, huh?' AnnaLise said. 'Who says you don't talk fashion?'

  Chuck's glare made it very clear who said it. And what his job was.

  Properly put in her place, AnnaLise said, 'I was saying to Bobby that maybe Mrs. Peebly—'

  A knock on the door interrupted her, and a nervous officer stuck his head in. 'Chief, there's—'

  A manicured hand swept him out of the way and Bobby's mother swept in. Dais
y and Mama were close behind.

  'May I ask what is going on here?' Mrs. B demanded.

  'To be frank?' Chuck remained seated. 'No.'

  Mrs. B hesitated, though whether it was because she didn't understand the sentence structure or wasn't used to being told no, wasn't clear.

  Mama took advantage of the opening. 'AnnieLeeze, have they arrested you?'

  'Arrested me?' AnnaLise leaped to her feet. 'Wherever did you—'

  'Girl, the whole town's talking,' Mama said. 'That the chief here came out from seeing Mrs. Peebly and then up and took you and Bobby into custody.'

  'I did not,' Chuck said, rising now, too, if slowly.

  Meanwhile, Daisy had somehow slipped into AnnaLise's seat. 'Told you so,' she said, folding her arms and crossing her legs.

  'Bobby and I were merely having a... discussion,' AnnaLise said.

  'Looked more like a fight from where we were sitting,' Mama put in. 'Ain't that right, Daisy?'

  'Yes, ma'am.' AnnaLise's mother was busy looking around the office.

  Mrs. B seemed to have gotten a second wind. 'What are you doing about all this, Chief? I understand an assault weapon was found in Lorraine's garage.'

  'Assault weapon?' AnnaLise squeaked. 'It's a cane, not an AK-47. Besides, our garage is unlocked. Anybody could have put anything in there.'

  'Just what are you insinuating?'

  'Me? What about you?' AnnaLise and Bobby's mother were toe-to-toe now.

  'Do not use that tone with me, missy.'

  'Ma...' Bobby got up, too.

  'And you, do not "ma" me, child.'

  'Child?' Daisy cupped her hand over her mouth like a kid caught telling secrets. 'But he's... old.'

  'You stay out of this, Lorry,' Mrs. B snapped. 'Mind your own business.'

  Daisy twisted to face the woman, tears springing to her eyes. 'Don't you dare yell at me, Ema Sikes. I am just trying to help.'

  Mrs. B's mouth dropped open in astonishment as she realized what AnnaLise knew the moment she saw tears in her mother's eyes.

  Daisy Griggs — the adult version — did not cry. Not even when her young husband had died. But apparently Lorraine 'Lorry' Kuchenbacher still could. And did.

 

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