Running on Empty (9 page)

'No, no, no,' Joy said, turning red. 'Ichiro, you misunderstood. I didn't say "flooded".
I said "underwater".'

'Underwater?' AnnaLise echoed. 'As in, owing more than a property is worth? But Ichiro
doesn't own the condo.'

She tipped her face up to where he was now hanging out the window. 'You rent from
Dr. Stanton, right?'

'You are correct,' Katou said. 'You are saying I do not worry?'

'Not about drowning,' Joy muttered. She seemed to regret having opened her mouth at
all. She appealed to her friends on the ground. 'You two have to keep quiet about
this.'

'What's the big secret?' AnnaLise asked. 'A lot of people bought when housing prices
were high and now that values have dropped, they're stuck. It's not something to be
ashamed of.'

'Besides,' Daisy said. 'Tucker and his father, certainly, don't seem to have anything
to worry about.'

AnnaLise thought she saw something cross Joy's expression. 'But it wouldn't be just
the Stantons, would it? All of Hart's Landing could be in jeopardy.' Along with —
easy come, easy go — AnnaLise's 'memoir' contract.

'Pfft.' Joy must have read her mind. 'Dickens Hart will always land on his feet. Just
press him on your book deal and get the money upfront.'

'I'll do that,' AnnaLise said, though it might be like insisting the devil sign on
the dotted line for your soul. 'But back to you: your spa idea could be a real boon
to the development. I assume that's the project you have "in the works"?'

'Yup,' Joy said.

'Well, don't worry,' Daisy said. 'You'll think of something.'

'Oh, believe me.' Joy squared her shoulders. 'I haven't given up.'

'Good for you,' Daisy said, slapping Joy on the back as the prospective spa-owner
turned to leave. Again.

'Hello,' Katou said again from on high.

'I think you mean goodbye,' AnnaLise said. 'Joy's leaving.'

'No.' He pointed. 'I speak to him.'

Sure enough, a new arrival. Bobby Bradenham was passing Joy on the sidewalk from the
parking lot.

'I thought I heard your car go by our house,' Bobby said to AnnaLise when he reached
them. 'You better get that muffler fixed. Especially with out-of-state plates.'

Sutherton's police department was notorious for ticketing. It, along with tourism,
had provided an important stream of income for the town over the years.

'The municipal coffers down?' AnnaLise asked.

'You'd be surprised how much law enforcement, when properly motivated, can bring in.'
He looked around the group. 'What's everybody doing here? We only need Mama for a
quorum.'

'And
your
mama,' AnnaLise said. 'Assuming we want to re-create the restaurant scenario from
this morning.'

'I dropped Ma off at Hotel Lux to get a mani-pedi.'

'Your mom is primping for Frat Pack Night?' AnnaLise knew better, but she loved Bobby's
imitations of his mother.

'Please.' Theatrically, he threw out his hand, palm-up. 'I despise crowds, as you
well know. If I want to enjoy the lake, I will do so from the comfort and privacy
of my own lovely deck, not some noisy hole-in-the-wall.'

'Does your mother ever use a contraction?' AnnaLise asked, curious.

Bobby's hand had migrated to the imaginary strand of pearls. 'Why ever would one use
a single word where two will do? And apostrophes — ' a denigrating flap of the hand
— 'so common, no?'

'Your mother,' Katou said, looking puzzled. 'AnnaLise asks if she hires someone?'

'Hires someone?' Bobby repeated, looking at AnnaLise.

'Oh,' she said, understanding. 'Contraction, root word contract. Leading to contractor,
perhaps. Very good reasoning, Ichiro. However, a contraction is—'

But Bobby cut her off, presumably having heard enough of AnnaLise's lectures in the
past. 'I was just saying that my mother will be staying home tonight.'

'Your mother does not enjoy... the company?' Katou asked.

'Only her own,' Daisy said under her breath as she moved into the shade thrown by
the building.

'That's not entirely true,' Bobby said, with a grin. 'She tolerates me at times.'

'And me, as well,' Katou said. 'Tomorrow for the lunch. I look forward to seeing your
home and learning of your family.'

'Ma will be "delighted" to show you the place,' Bobby said, 'but don't expect any
family sagas. Ma's so evasive, I've always wondered whether I'm adopted.'

'You, me and every kid who doesn't look like their surviving parent,' AnnaLise said,
glad Mama wasn't around to put her two cents worth in about Bobby's paternity.

'I think that's why I was always fascinated by the subject of heredity in school.
I even tried to blood-type myself once. I thought Ma was going to hit the ceiling
when she caught me with a knife and two lenses I'd taken out of her reading glasses
to make a slide.'

'Now you scrape.' Katou disappeared from the window and returned with something that
looked like a oversized cotton swab.

AnnaLise's eyes widened and Bobby laughed. 'Ichiro and I are taking part in a worldwide
genome project. It uses DNA, which is the reason for the giant Q-tip.'

He gestured toward the door of Katou's building. 'Want to see?'

AnnaLise glanced over at Daisy, who was hovering none too patiently. 'I think not.
We both have plans for tonight, and I need to iron something to wear.'

'To Sal's?' Bobby asked. 'You might want to add a couple wrinkles and maybe a mustard
stain. Help you fit in.'

A buzzer sounded and with a wave, Bobby entered the building. AnnaLise stepped back
to say goodbye to Katou, but he was gone, too, presumably having been the one to buzz
Bobby into the building.

That left just AnnaLise and Daisy on the quiet sidewalk. 'This place really is a ghost
town.'

But Daisy didn't seem to be interested in Hart's Landing. 'Should they be messing
around with DNA?'

'They're not exactly creating a monster, Dr. Frankenstein,' AnnaLise said as she led
the way back to the car. 'I did some research for an article about
National Geographic
's genographic project. They're trying to collect hundreds of thousands of DNA samples
from people around the world in order to trace human migration. I think it would be
fascinating to find out where the ancestors in your lineage were a thousand years
ago and how they got... well, here.'

'And paternity?' Daisy asked.

AnnaLise shrugged. 'I don't know which program Ichiro is involved with, but from what
I've read, lineage tests are much more general than paternity tests. They might show
that your parents came from European descent, for example, but not provide specifics.
Once you had the DNA, though, I'm guessing you could test for whatever you wanted.'

'Wouldn't you need samples from both father and child?' Daisy stood waiting while
AnnaLise climbed into the car and leaned over to unlock the door.

'As I understand it.' AnnaLise put the key in the ignition as Daisy slipped into the
passenger seat. 'But remember I was doing an article on the genographic project, not
paternity testing.' She looked sideways at her mother and grinned. 'A little information,
in the wrong hands, can be a dangerous thing.'

'Amen to that.'

Seven thirty and Frat Pack Night was already in full swing.

'I'm so sorry,' AnnaLise said, sliding into a seat opposite Bobby. 'My watch—'

'Was still on central time,' Bobby said, signaling Sal's bartender to draw AnnaLise
the local brew — a Pisgah Porter. 'Don't worry, I figured you'd be late.'

Fine reputation to have, re-cultivated after less than twelve hours back in your own
hometown.

A sliver of sunlight slanted across Bobby's face and continued its travels around
the room. AnnaLise glanced over her shoulder to see Sheree Pepper, Sutherton's favorite
innkeeper, slip through the door. Since sunset wouldn't be for another twenty minutes,
it was still bright on the beach outside. Inside, more like another world.

The room was dark, the only illumination coming from the red-plastic mesh-covered
candle holder centered on each table and a klieg spot directed at the stage. There,
Sal Goldstein, brown hair slicked back and showing a lot more scalp than AnnaLise's
last visit, crooned Mack the Knife into the microphone.

AnnaLise had once made the mistake of suggesting the tune was made famous by Bobby
Darin and gotten an earful.

'You telling me Frank Sinatra never sang that song? Huh? You telling me that?'

Nope. Not me. Forget I ever said anything.

On a stool next to the bar-owner sat an opened laptop computer so he could control
his own playlist. A digital version of the old one-man band,
sans cymbals strapped between knees or tambourines tied to limbs.

Sheree took the third of four chairs at the round table. 'So, where's your friend?'

Bobby and AnnaLise exchanged looks as she stood to pick up her beer from the bartender.
'You field this one,' she told him. Then: 'Sheree?'

'Cabernet. Something with a cork, if that's remotely possible.'

AnnaLise didn't bother to point out the folly of ordering wine in a place like Sal's.
Sheree already knew better.

Behind her, AnnaLise heard Bobby ask Sheree, 'By friend, do you mean Ichiro?'

AnnaLise told the barman Sheree's unwisely optimistic request and turned, back to
bar, to watch Bobby and Sheree.

'Of course I'm talking about Ichiro.' Sheree was looking around like she'd find the
man hiding under a table. 'Where is he?'

Bobby shrugged. 'He'll be here about ten. Why?'

Sheree, of the push-up bra and pushed-down neckline, said, 'No reason.'

AnnaLise snickered as she returned with her mug and slid a tiny bottle of wine like
they serve on planes to Sheree. 'What's wrong, one guy's not enough? Which reminds
me, where
is
your "tenant"?'

Sheree grinned. 'One, much like once, is never enough, AnnaLise. You should have learned
that by now.'

AnnaLise reflexively glanced at her purse, where a cellphone with two missed calls
and three texts from Ben was buried. 'Sometimes, one can be too many.'

Especially when that 'one' wouldn't take 'it's over' for an answer.

The eye movement wasn't lost on Sheree. 'Honey, do we need to talk?'

'Later. Maybe.' AnnaLise lifted her mug. 'But tonight, dear friends, a toast. To Frat
Pack Night.'

'To Frat Pack Night,' Bobby echoed, raising his glass.

'Hold up.' Sheree removed the clear, plastic glass which had been upended over the
neck of the bottle and checked the label. 'Cab/Merlot blend. Indeterminate vintage.'

She clinked the bottle itself against first AnnaLise's and then Bobby's brews. 'To
impertinent little wines.'

'And impertinent little friends,' Bobby said with a grin.

'I'll drink to that,' Sheree took a swig from the bottle and then poured the rest
into her plastic cup. 'So why's Ichiro going to be so late?'

They both looked at her.

'What? I just hate for him to miss the show.'

'He'll catch an hour,' Bobby said. 'That's probably more than enough for anybody's
initiation to Frat Pack Night.'

'An hour? Are you saying Sal stops at eleven now?' AnnaLise said, taking an appreciative
sip of her rich North Carolina brew. 'Since when?'

'The place has closed at eleven for a couple of years now,' Bobby said over the lyrics
'...
line forms, on the right dear
...'

'Sal tries to get home for Leno,' Sheree said, tugging at her top.

'Unlike Daisy,' AnnaLise said. 'She's going to Torch tonight and told me not to wait
up. You'd think my mother's getting younger and I'm getting older.'

'Pretty soon the two of you will cross.' Sheree waved at someone in the crowd. 'There's
Chuck.'

'Oh, good,' AnnaLise said, turning to beckon him to their table. 'He said he needed
to talk with me about something.'

The police chief put up his index finger in a 'just a second' signal while he finished
a conversation. AnnaLise turned back to her companions.

They didn't say anything. Just looked at her.

'What?' she asked.

'Nothing,' Sheree said. 'But... how long has it been since you and Chuck spoke?'

'Quite a while, I'm afraid. I saw him this morning on the beach and we exchanged voicemails
after Daisy's — ' she looked at Bobby — 'and Mrs. B's accident, but we haven't really
talked
in ages.'