Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2)

by Sandra Balzo

  AnnaLise loved the syntax and rhythm of High Country English. ‘And you think that won't happen if you stay in your dad's business?’

  ‘Hasn’t happened, even for him. Besides, eventually, the mountains will be built out, at least as far as the county will let them be. Then the only work will be renovations like this one and, no offense, that's not where the big money is.’

  ‘I hear you,’ AnnaLise said, impressed by the amount of thought Josh had given the subject. ‘And believe me, I'd be the first one to advise you to get your degree. Have you considered where?’

  ‘I can't afford U-Mo, where Suze is, but I was thinking maybe Lees-McRae right down the road in Banner Elk. That way it wouldn't be too much of a financial burden and Suze and I would still be close by each other. Maybe even get an apartment together.'

  Wow, AnnaLise thought as she gave Josh a wave before turning the key again in the ignition. A one-eighty turnaround for the troubled kid who’d barely made it through high school. Maybe Joshua Eames and Suzanne Rosewood would turn out to be good for each other after all.

  Fifteen

  Not wanting to follow Daisy's example of Monday afternoon, AnnaLise called the spa to warn Joy she was running late, only to find that her friend had a training client for the next hour anyway.

  Given the extra time, AnnaLise decided to take the state highway to the upper entrance of the mountain. She'd have to cross Sutherton Bridge to reach Hotel Lux whichever way she went, but the highway route would take her past the garage where her poor Spyder had been towed, so she could claim any property from the little car before it went to the parking lot in the sky.

  AnnaLise turned off at a sign trumpeting 'Sutherton Auto Sales, Service and Scrap.' Talk about your cradle-to-grave operation, she thought, following the bend of the gravel drive past the main sales building to the service garage.

  She parked the Chrysler in the shadow of the building. Earl Lawling was inside one of the bays busy with a tire, but it wasn't him AnnaLise had come to see.

  The scrap yard was wisely hidden behind a slight rise and it was on that hill – the limbo between repair and salvage – that she found her Spyder. Poor thing looked like it had been scalped and left for dead, canvas pate on the ground next to it.

  As AnnaLise observed a moment of silence, Lawling emerged from the repair bay. ‘Come to say your goodbyes?’

  ‘And pick up anything I might have left inside,’ she looked at the fully-detached roof, ‘if it's still there.’

  ‘If I were you, miss, I'd just be counting my blessings I got out, unlike the poor lady in that one.’

  He pointed and AnnaLise turned to see the Rosewood's Porsche, three tires blown and one wheel completely missing.

  ‘By the by,’ Lawling continued. ‘I have a nice selection of new and used cars if you're in the market.’

  If she was in the market? AnnaLise couldn't drive her mother's car forever and, besides, she'd certainly need something to drive back to Wisconsin the end of the month. Still, it seemed too early to replace the Mitsubishi when the car hadn't even been given a proper burial.

  ‘I haven't decided whether I'll buy a car here or wait until I get back to Wisconsin.’

  ‘I think you'll find the prices here more to your liking and I'll make you the same deal I offered the Porsche's owner.’

  Ben already was looking to replace his wife's car? ‘What deal is that?’

  ‘Once we come up with a fair price, I'll subtract the salvage value of your old vehicle.’

  AnnaLise glanced over at the remains of the Mitsubishi.

  ‘I admit it's not as much of an incentive for you,’ Lawling continued hastily, ‘as it would be for Mr Rosewood. Your whole car wasn't worth what I'm likely to get for the Porsche's parts.’

  ‘Well, that's not surprising, is it? I mean, considering my car is totaled and therefore worthless.’

  ‘No, ma'am. I don't mean your Mitsubishi as it stands now. I'm talking about as it stood at the dealer's lot in Wisconsin, brand-spanking new.’

  Well, that seemed a little cruel.

  ‘Though it's true that comparison will have to wait a bit,’ Lawling continued, ‘seeing as the police are sending a wrecker over to the Porsche.’

  ‘They are?’ AnnaLise asked, but she was thinking, Now what's Ben up to?

  ‘Well, I don't like to brag, but it appears I discovered something they missed. I probably shouldn't say more than that.’

  Eagle-eyed Earl had spotted something. The question was, what? AnnaLise glanced toward the repair bay. The wheel the man had been working on when she'd arrived was balanced on a couple of saw-horses. ‘Do you think one of the tires was to blame?’

  She was remembering a case they'd studied in one of her marketing classes: millions of tires recalled and millions more in dollars awarded in damages for ‘deaths and catastrophic injuries’ caused by faulty tires.

  Ben would have a field day with this one, if it were true. But better he take on a conglomerate with teams of lawyers on retainer rather than Joy.

  But the loquacious Earl seemed to have buttoned his lip. ‘I surely would hesitate to speculate on the matter, ma'am.’

  ‘Wise of you, I must say. Especially if a lawsuit should arise from all this,’ AnnaLise said, unintentionally falling into his pattern of speech. By the time she got back to Wisconsin, she'd have a full-fledged High Country accent and would be walking out of restaurants without paying, like she was used to doing at Mama's.

  ‘We do live in a highly litigious society,’ Lawling was saying. ‘Well, here now. Just like I said.’

  He was looking toward a cloud of dust being kicked up by two vehicles on the gravel driveway. The first was a Sutherton squad car and behind it, a police wrecker. When the first got close enough, AnnaLise saw Chuck in the passenger seat.

  The chief of police out for a product-liability case? Seemed like overkill, though Ben was certainly willing and able to throw his weight around, even as an out-of-state D.A.

  Lawling pulled a grubby white envelope out of his pocket and went to meet them.

  Curious, but not wanting to be shooed away at the outset, AnnaLise went about her business. She retrieved the contents of the sprung glove compartment in her Spyder, along with a parking pass from the dashboard, all the while keeping an eye on Chuck and Earl who were now in the repair bay. Leaving the cassette tapes in the hope that her next vehicle would have a CD player, she moved on to the trunk, where she found a stuffed Bucky Badger wearing a University of Wisconsin sweatshirt.

  ‘Say goodbye to our Spyder,’ AnnaLise said, turning the stuffed mascot to face the car.

  Bucky didn't answer. Badgers aren't much for sentiment.

  Dropping everything in the trunk of her mom's car and closing it, AnnaLise hurried over to where Chuck now stood alone by the sawhorses. ‘So, what's going on?’

  ‘Who's asking?’

  AnnaLise looked around. ‘Who's asking? Me, of course.’

  ‘But are you asking for your friend?’

  Friend. Careful now, girl. ‘You mean Joy?’

  ‘I mean Ben Rosewood.’

  ‘No, I'm not asking for Ben, though I'd hardly call him a friend.’ Which was true, so far as it went. The district attorney had been much more than that. ‘I'm on Joy's side, assuming that's what this is all about. Though if a tire company is involved, I don't have a side.’

  Chuck shook his head. ‘Whatever are you talking about?’

  ‘Joy,’ she reminded him. ‘You said Ben Rosewood was suggesting the accident was her fault?’

  ‘Oh, right,’ Chuck seemed to honestly have forgotten. ‘Looks like the glass of wine Mrs Rosewood had up at the spa is no longer a major issue.’

  ‘Because she was already drunk?’

  ‘Apparently.’ If Earl Lawling's lips were buttoned, Chuck's were zipped up tight.

  ‘But what about the tires?’

  ‘The tire?’

  ‘Tire, singular?’ This was like Twenty Questions. Animal, veget
able or mineral.

  Chuck looked skyward. ‘I don't know why I play these games with you.’

  ‘Me, neither. You might as well just tell me. You know Earl's not going to be able to keep his mouth shut for long.’

  Since AnnaLise had known Lawling all of two days, it was a guess, but apparently a good one. ‘Point taken.’

  ‘So, give.’

  ‘While Tanja Rosewood's blood-alcohol level was likely a contributing factor, it may not have been the initial cause of the accident.’

  ‘But something in the tire was? What's the manufacturer?’

  ‘Hard to tell. Remington, Hornady, maybe? Likely not UltraMax.’

  ‘Hornady? UltraMax?’ Sounded more like condoms than tires. There was probably a ‘Where the rubber meets the road’ joke in there somewhere, but AnnaLise had no intention of trotting it out just now. ‘I'm sorry, Chuck, but I don't understand. Are those tire manufacturers?’

  ‘Tire? No.’

  ‘Barely a minute ago, you said one of them was at fault. I was asking what type of tire.’

  ‘That's a little like blaming the victim, Lise.’ He pointed toward the repair bay. ‘Tires don't kill people, at least in this case. But bullets do.’

  Sixteen

  Gentle scents of jasmine and lavender wafted through the doorway of the Sutherton Spa, carried on the piano strains of Katie Kuhn, George Winston, and David Lanz.

  All very peaceful and Zen-like.

  In direct contrast to the woman who ran the place.

  ‘Wait. Someone shot out her tire?’ Joy Tamarack demanded.

  She and AnnaLise were sitting in Joy's office. AnnaLise had arrived in the parking lot of Hotel Lux a little before ten.

  The outside of the big hotel looked much as it had the last time she'd seen it: tall, white and ugly. In AnnaLise's opinion, a building built on a mountain-top should reflect its surroundings. This one just . . . . reflected. No matter what time of day or where you were, the thing glowed like an opalescent sore thumb. Made it real easy to find.

  Walking through the door and past the concierge desk to the lobby, AnnaLise had to admit the inside of the Lux was a lot more appealing than the outside, though just as modern. Three restaurants, one a coffee shop and the others open for lunch and dinner with nighttime entertainment. A beauty salon and barber shop. Two upscale clothing stores – one for men, the other for women – and a ski shop that carried everything you might need for more money than you ever imagined. And, of course, Joy's spa and fitness facility.

  Hotel Lux was, in a word, lux. Once there, the only time you'd have to go outside would be to ski.

  Yet another High Country activity, like shooting, that AnnaLise had never taken up, though this one she regretted. Living in Wisconsin or the mountains of North Carolina, it was practically a sin not to take advantage of the winter sports that drew others there.

  The journalist resolved to put it on her bucket list. Though at age twenty-eight, the bucket was more pink plastic sand-pail.

  But it was autumn, not winter, that AnnaLise loved most in the High Country. The bright red sugar maples punctuating the greens – soon to be yellows and oranges – of the oaks, chestnuts and –

  ‘And again I ask,’ Joy snarled, pulling AnnaLise's attention away from the vista outside the office window. ‘Someone shot out Tanja Rosewood's tire?’

  Joy had been finishing up a fitness training session with a sixty-something female ‘half-back’ – someone who retired to Florida to escape northern winters only to come halfway back when the heat got oppressive in June – when AnnaLise arrived.

  Since the older woman's biceps put hers to shame, AnnaLise willingly retreated to Joy's office to wait. Her friend joined her a few minutes later, sinking comfortably into the desk chair and reaching for a pack of Marlboros.

  Once Joy was settled, AnnaLise had filled her in on recent developments, though apparently not as completely as said friend would like.

  AnnaLise sighed in response to the repeated question. ‘All I know is that Chuck told me Earl at the garage found a rifle slug in a front tire.’ And that Remington, Hornady and UltraMax were ammunition, not tire, manufacturers.

  ‘Well,’ Joy sent a smoke ring into the air, ‘unless the bears have armed themselves, I think that means somebody shot out her tire.’

  ‘Fine,’ AnnaLise said, holding up her hands, ‘I'll stipulate that a human being fired the gun. Most likely a hunting accident.’

  ‘Except it's bow season,’ Joy pointed out. ‘Besides, the town outlawed hunters of any kind on Sutherton Mountain years ago, supposedly because they tended to cut down unsuspecting visitors right along with the deer.’

  There was that. And a theory the thinning of the tourist-herd wasn't necessarily accidental. ‘Be that as it may, poachers know no season.’ AnnaLise was sipping a Honeydew Melon, Pineapple and Lemongrass Juice Smoothie, a nice counter to the toxic fumes floating across the desk from the physical trainer's cigarette.

  ‘More so in the woods around the lake than here on the mountain, I would think.’ Joy tapped the ash from her cancer-stick onto a piece of aluminum foil molded into a makeshift ashtray. ‘Especially with the police range nearby. Chuck and his troops hear gunfire that's not theirs, they might come looking.’

  The gun range. ‘Daisy and I heard what sounded like a shot from there as we drove up the mountain on Monday.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Five, five-thirty?’

  ‘Then it didn't come from the range. It's only open nine to one on weekdays. Is it possible you heard the shot that took out the woman's tire?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ AnnaLise was trying to recall the circumstances. ‘It was as we were off-roading on Daisy's shortcut. Given the way things echo up there, I suppose it could have come from above us.’

  ‘Are we talking about the dead end that leads to the bridge?’

  ‘Not much of a dead end, by my definition,’ AnnaLise sniffed.

  ‘Don't be such a grump,’ Joy said. ‘We're getting somewhere here.’

  By way of a dead-end road. ‘If you're right, Tanja Rosewood's car went off the road just moments before Daisy and I nearly got killed ourselves.’

  ‘What?’ Joy's smoke was out and, though AnnaLise would have liked to believe her friend was more concerned about the answer to her question than getting the next one lighted, soon there was evidence to the contrary.

  ‘You'd have no way of knowing,’ AnnaLise said, ‘but my car stalled crossways on the approach to the bridge Monday. We nearly went over the cliff and the car was totaled.’

  ‘Damn. Who hit you?’ Creature comforts taken care of, Joy actually looked concerned.

  ‘Well, no one, as it turned out. I don't remember much, but according to Daisy and Joshua Eames, when his truck came up behind me just after I got the Spyder started, I must have panicked and hit the gas, sending us into the rock wall.’

  ‘I thought you almost went over into the gorge.’ Joy sounded disappointed. ‘The wall is on the mountain side of the road.’

  ‘We must have bounced back across, because when the car came to rest, it was right on the edge. Luckily, Josh warned us, or Daisy would have climbed out of her side of the car, right into the gorge.’ AnnaLise gave a shiver. With Tanja Rosewood's plunge off the road, their own near-miss seemed even scarier. And AnnaLise and Daisy, even luckier.

  Joy seemed to mull that over. ‘And this happened within minutes of the Rosewood woman's car going over.’

  ‘If it was a shot I heard, and the one that blew out her tire.’

  ‘Did it sound like a deer rifle or . . .’ AnnaLise could feel Joy reading the expressions on her old friend's face. ‘I don't even know why I ask, as much as you like guns. I wasn't even born here and I'm probably a better shot than you are.’

  ‘Don't pat yourself on the back,’ AnnaLise said. ‘There are toddlers in Sutherton who could say the same. My father just never got around to teaching – ’

  Joy opened her mouth to say so
mething, but AnnaLise held up two hands to stop her. ‘I know, I know. Yet another sad result of growing up fatherless.’

  ‘Actually, that's not what I was going to say, smartie. I was going to ask what happened after your accident – how you got out of the car and when the Rosewood car was discovered. There could only have been an hour or maybe two of daylight left at that point.’

  ‘Like I said, Josh arrived and warned us to stay put, then called nine-one-one. They were there within minutes, thankfully. It was Earl Lawling, the guy who came with the wrecker to tow my poor Spyder away, who spotted the Porsche. Good thing, too, because Chuck says that, with leaves falling, followed by the snow and summer floods, it might never have been found.’

  ‘Earl?’ Joy repeated. ‘Didn't you also say he's the one who discovered the slug in the tire?’

  ‘So what?’ AnnaLise asked. ‘You think he was up there with his tow truck taking pot shots at cars, only to point out the Porsche so he could ultimately indict himself by discovering that a bullet blew out the tire and then reporting it to the police?’

  ‘First of all,’ Joy said, ignoring what some might call sarcasm or, at least, facetiousness, ‘it's damn lucky there was a slug for him to find. With a high-powered rifle, which is what you'd need to take out a tire even if your Mrs Rosewood was taking it slow like I advised her to, you'd be more likely to have a through-and-through. The thing must have hit the rim, which means it'll be so badly damaged they won't be able to tell anything but caliber. Maybe.’

  AnnaLise squinted at her friend. ‘And you know this how?’

  ‘I read.’ Joy puffed out another smoke ring and leaned forward earnestly in her chair. ‘But back to this Earl, maybe he's one of those freaks who gets off on being important. You remember that movie about the firefighter who torched buildings so he could be a hero?’

  AnnaLise didn't answer.

  ‘What? I finally stumped the movie expert?’

  ‘Backdraft, starring Kurt Russell and Billy Baldwin,’ AnnaLise said, ‘but you've got the motive wrong.’