Running on Empty (17 page)

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.'
Any
thing 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.

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.