Running on Empty (20 page)

Monday, Sept. 6, 9:46 p.m.

Yet another new message from Ben. He has to 'see' me, as soon as I return. Honestly,
the man's next campaign slogan should be, 'I can have my wife, and meet you, too.'
(As sanitized for general audiences, of course.)

-AG

Ants might eat their pals, but did they also lie to them?

Because AnnaLise had. She'd told Chuck that she'd met Daisy at Torch by eleven on
Saturday night. In truth, that's when AnnaLise got there. Only, she hadn't seen her
mother until nearly midnight.

Now it was Tuesday, the morning after Labor Day, and AnnaLise was standing in front
of Torch once again, hoping to snag another 'what's-the-point' latte before taking
Daisy to Dr. Stanton's office for her mother's nine o'clock appointment.

The sign on Torch's door read: Open 7:30 a.m. AnnaLise checked her watch, recalculated
to Eastern time and settled in for a three-minute wait.

When she'd arrived on Saturday night, the first thing she'd done was find Tucker in
the packed place to congratulate him. 'Looks like you have a hit on your hands.'

All the tables were filled and Tucker's 'chanteuse' was onstage singing 'Some Enchanted
Evening'.

'She's wonderful,' AnnaLise said, spotting a few openings at the raised counters on
three walls facing the talent. 'I'd never have recognized this place as our old deli.'

'Your mom says the same thing.' Tucker gestured for AnnaLise to take one of the few,
elevated stools. 'Can I get you something?'

AnnaLise'd had enough to drink at Sal's, but felt obligated to order something. Which
is the classic way hangover stories start. 'Do you have anything for after-dinner?'

'Well, I have no personal knowledge of it, of course, being too young to drink and
all,' he replied with an impish grin, 'but I'm told my bartender makes a mean espresso
martini — calls it the Midnight Espresso.'

And so, the die was cast. AnnaLise had just finished the sinful concoction, served
in a glass rimmed with chocolate syrup and biscotti crumbs, when Daisy finally showed
up.

'Where have you been?' daughter to mother.

'At our house, of course,' Daisy said. 'Did you think I would come here right from
dinner? Who in the world goes to a nightclub at seven thirty?'

'Me, apparently. But then my clubs, if Sal's can be described as such, close at eleven.'
AnnaLise looked down at the sweet dregs in her glass. 'Can we go home?'

'Don't be silly.' Daisy hiked herself up onto the next stool. 'I just got here.' She
signaled for drinks and the rest evolved into, and remained, the already-reported
blur.

The sound of a latch turning and the heavy door pushed open. Back to current reality.

'Morning,' greeted the barista who'd made AnnaLise's latte on Friday. 'Give me just
a sec, and I'll be right with you.'

'No hurry,' AnnaLise said, settling down at the counter where she and Daisy had sat.
'I'll have a latte when you're ready.'

'Large decaf, non-fat, no-foam, and with a Splenda, right?'

'Wow, great memory. But this time use the high-test, not the unleaded. I need all
the boost I can get.'

'High... test?'

'Caffeine. All the cup will hold.'

'You got it.'

While the barista worked behind the espresso machine, AnnaLise tried to relax. Her
jaw was aching from clenching her teeth, a sure sign of tension.

Five days ago, AnnaLise had been getting ready to go to the courthouse, unaware —
if not exactly blissfully so — of the telephone call she would get once there.

Daisy was 'not right', Mama had said. That seemed the tip of the iceberg now. Could
Chuck, or anyone else for that matter, honestly believe AnnaLise's mother would brain
a sweet Japanese visitor, clean his cane of fingerprints, but not DNA-laden blood,
and then absent-mindedly stick the murder weapon in her own garage?

Ridiculous. But then, so was the incident at the blood drive.

'Is there anything else I can get you?' The barista was beside her. AnnaLise hadn't
even registered her approach.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' AnnaLise said, looking at the latte. 'I meant to ask for a to-go
cup.'

'Not a problem. Are you heading home this morning?'

Home. Define that, please. 'Not yet,' AnnaLise said. 'My mother has a doctor's appointment.'

'Ahh.' The barista carefully poured the latte in a cardboard cup and capped it. 'How
is Daisy doing?'

It wasn't the question but the tone that made AnnaLise look up sharply, credit card
in hand. 'Fine. Why do you ask?'

The woman flushed. 'No reason.'

AnnaLise put out her hand as the woman turned away. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap
at you, but I need to know. Have you noticed Daisy being odd, or... unwell?'

'Just...' The door opened and the barista looked up to see who had come in behind
AnnaLise before she answered. 'Just not acting like herself.'

'Morning,' Tucker Stanton's voice said. 'Who are we talking about?'

AnnaLise turned, wondering why she hadn't thought to speak to him about her mother.
After all, besides Mama's, Torch was where the subject of concern had been spending
most of her time. 'Good morning, Tucker. We're talking about Daisy.'

The barista, caught by her boss talking about a customer, squirmed. 'I was just saying
AnnaLise's mother has seemed... a little under the weather once or twice.'

'Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs is the way I would have put it,' Tucker said. 'But like my
wonderful barista here says, just a couple times.'

Well if that was his attitude, at least Tucker wasn't likely to discipline his employee
for her more tactful characterization.

'Did it last long?' AnnaLise picked up her latte and followed the younger Stanton
to the stage.

'Nope, just a flash.' Tucker began gathering sheet music from the music stand used
on Saturday night. 'More like she was tripping, actually.'

'My mother doesn't do drugs,' AnnaLise said.

'Hey, I'm not saying they aren't prescription. Maybe she just needs her meds adjusted.'

'Uh-unh,' AnnaLise said. 'No drugs, prescription or otherwise. Daisy doesn't even
like to swallow an aspirin.'

'Well, then I don't know.' Tucker said, raising the lid of the piano bench. 'Has she
seen my dad?'

'Appointment this morning,' AnnaLise said. 'I should have gotten her there sooner.'

'Sooner? Didn't you just arrive Saturday?'

'True, though it seems a lifetime ago.'

'No kidding, huh?' Tucker had put the sheet music in the bench and now eased the lid
down. 'Sutherton really outdid itself this weekend, crazy-wise. I hear Ichiro's bloody
cane was found in your garage.'

'You heard right,' AnnaLise said.

Tucker read something from her expression. 'Hey, you're not afraid that Daisy...'

'No, no. Of course not,' AnnaLise said, though that was precisely what she feared.
'She'd have no reason to hurt Ichiro.'

Unless, of course, he reminded her of somebody else. Someone from the past she'd been
slipping into of late. Someone...

'You know,' Tucker said slowly. 'I honestly hadn't thought of it, but you and your
mother must be suspects. At least, technically speaking.'

AnnaLise gulped.

He said, 'Has the chief talked to you?'

'Well, yes,' said AnnaLise. 'But...'

'You both have alibis?'

'I do. And Daisy — well, I sort of told Chuck she was here.'

'But she wasn't,' Tucker protested. The barista's head turned toward them and he lowered
his voice. 'From what I hear, Ichiro died before midnight.'

AnnaLise hadn't heard that, but it didn't surprise her. Something — or, more precisely,
somebody — had kept the man from meeting Bobby at Sal's at ten p.m. How long before
ten seemed anybody's guess.

Tucker continued, 'And we both know that Daisy didn't arrive until after the singer
started her third set.'

'Has Chuck asked you?'

'No.'

'So we don't have a problem, am I right?' AnnaLise raised her eyebrows at him.

'Right.' Tucker studied AnnaLise's face. 'But just so we're straight, if Chuck puts
the question, I'm going to have to tell him the truth.'

'Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.'

And Chuck would ask eventually, AnnaLise knew. Especially if no other possibilities
— or suspects — arose.

'I know your dad owns the condo Ichiro rented,' AnnaLise said. 'Any chance you'd have
a key?'

'Do you think I'm going nuts?'

They were en route to Dr. Stanton's office at University Hospital in AnnaLise's little
convertible with the farting muffler.

'No,' AnnaLise said, glancing quickly at her mother in the passenger seat. 'Do you?'

'Honestly? I don't know.' Daisy was looking straight ahead. 'I do know that I'm scared.'

'Don't...' AnnaLise changed her mind. If mother could be honest, then daughter needed
to do the same. 'Let me start over. I'm scared, too.' She touched Daisy's shoulder.
'But we'll figure it out. Together, OK?'

'Now you sound like Phyllis,' Daisy complained, though AnnaLise could hear a smile
coming through her voice.

'I know,' AnnaLise said, turning into the hospital's entrance. She bypassed the emergency
and outpatient entrances and turned into the parking lot that serviced the professional
building where Dr. Stanton's office was. 'And I'm right, just like Mama always is.'

'Or thinks she is,' Daisy said.

The smile was still there when they got out of the car, which AnnaLise took to be
a good sign. 'You saw Dr. Stanton after the blood-drive accident, right? What did
he do?'

'A physical exam, first, then he wanted me to tell him what day it was, to count backwards
from twenty. That kind of thing.'

'And you could?'

'I don't recall.'

AnnaLise's mouth dropped open.

'Oh, God,' Daisy said. 'I was kidding. I passed all his tests with flying colors.'

Then why had Dr. Stanton, according to Mama, stated that Daisy 'wasn't right' in the
head?

AnnaLise had an opportunity to ask the horse's mouth that question while Daisy was
having blood drawn in another room.

'Your mother appeared disoriented when she and I spoke last week,' Dr. Stanton said
from the other side of his office desk. 'Phyllis was there as well and she may have
misinterpreted something I said.'

AnnaLise felt an irrational sense of reprieve. Irrational, because she herself had
seen disturbing signs in her mother. Reprieve, because human nature is what it is.

She forced herself to press the issue. 'I've witnessed two episodes just this weekend,
where my mother...' AnnaLise was searching for a word. 'Reverted?'

Dr. Stanton's eyes narrowed. 'To?'

'Her youth. The first, she acted like my dad was still alive. The second, she seemed
to be just out of high school, though I'm less sure of that one.'

'What do you mean?'

AnnaLise shifted uncomfortably in the 'patient' chair. 'It was more her speech patterns
and, well, she cried.'