Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2) (13 page)

‘I . . . yes, I suppose she has, now that you say it.’

‘Oh, I'd pretty much bet on it.’ He swung what looked like a heavy toolbox into the truck effortlessly. ‘The books and TV doctors talk about growing pains and kids wanting to be independent and such, but they never really get to the heart of the matter from the parent's side.’

‘Empty-nest syndrome.’

Eames snorted. ‘That's their label, like it's just a matter of gaining a spare room. Josh still lives with me on the mountain, so it's not
him
being there I miss. I miss
my
being there – in his head, I mean. Or at least feeling like I had a right to be.’

Now Eames shook his own head. ‘Ah, don't mind me, AnnaLise. Josh wasn't an easy child, growing up – wouldn't talk to me about most things, so what do I know?’

AnnaLise touched the man on the shoulder. ‘More than I do about it, that's for certain. Anything I can help you finish up here?’

‘Not a bitty thing.’ He swung up the gate of the pick-up. ‘I'll be on Scotty to make sure he gets here and runs that wiring so we can finish up.’

AnnaLise followed Eames into the garage. ‘Are the openers here yet?’

‘At my shop. Even in Sutherton, I'm afraid they might take a walk if I left 'em here with the doors not hung yet.’ He knocked on the fresh two-by-fours framing the opening on Daisy's side of the garage. ‘Josh did a nice job of getting this all plumb and laying the tracks, so once Scotty is done tomorrow, he and I should be able to hang the openers and the doors on Friday and your mama and Mrs Peebly will have their garage back by the weekend.’

‘That's wonderful. Thank you so much.’ AnnaLise couldn't believe it had been so quick. She impulsively hugged the man.

Looking surprised, Eames said, ‘You're most welcome, AnnaLise, but I do have to tell you that installing electric garage doors, even in a structure as old as this one, isn't a major undertaking.’

‘You have no idea, Mr Eames,’ AnnaLise said, moving back onto the sidewalk. ‘You honestly have no idea.’

***

Feeling good about the garage doors, which had been fourteen years and countless arguments toward modernizing them, AnnaLise made herself lunch at home.

The pickings in the refrigerator were sparse, as usual, since both generations of Griggs took most of their meals at Mama's. AnnaLise settled for peanut butter on toast and a glass of orange juice. Pretty much the perfect meal, in her estimation, and one that had been a staple for her in Wisconsin.

It was good to be alone, she thought, settling down at the kitchen table with her plate and glass. It hadn't happened much since she'd returned to Sutherton, now eleven days ago.

Picking up her orange juice, she smiled at the glass. It was a Welch's jelly jar, part of the manufacturer's ‘Winnie the Pooh collection,’ this one featuring Winnie and Eeyore. When her mother had started collecting them for her, AnnaLise had been nearly seventeen years old. Too old for Disney glasses, not that it has stopped Daisy.

And now AnnaLise took nostalgic solace.

She took a sip of orange juice as she gave some thought to what Mr Eames had said. The truth was, AnnaLise had been eager to move away from her admittedly loving, but also meddlesome, dual-barreled mothers.

Obviously she'd never told them about Ben back in Wisconsin, but she'd also told them very little of even her day-to-day life there, embracing her independence and, truth be told, resenting their occasional phone calls. Not because she didn't love Daisy and Mama, but because the calls felt like interrogations rather than what they likely were: attempts to have a continuing role in AnnaLise's adult life. To feel as much a part of her, as she still was – and always would be – of them.

Hell, what would it have cost AnnaLise to telephone and ask Daisy for an opinion? Or Mama, a calorie-laden recipe? Beyond the pounds, of course.

AnnaLise's ‘freshman fifteen’ in college had been a weight loss, not gain, when she'd gone away to school. In fact – she pinched an inch at her waist just to check – she'd best be careful not to gain it back in the time she'd be here.

Going to the dishwasher, AnnaLise moved aside a Revere Ware copper-bottomed kettle that pre-dated her about twenty years, slid in her plate and glass and gave some thought to how she would spend the afternoon.

Then, closing the dishwasher, she picked up her jacket.

***

AnnaLise arrived at the Sutherton police station about 2 p.m., just in time to see a red Toyota Camry pull out of the parking lot with Suzanne Rosewood in the driver's seat and Josh sitting next to her.

The two seemed to be in a heated conversation, so much so that AnnaLise didn't think either of the occupants of the Toyota saw her skip out of the way as they blasted out of the parking lot. Watching the car disappear alarmingly quickly, given the twenty-five-miles-per-hour speed limit, AnnaLise noticed Wisconsin plates. Suzanne's car, mostly likely still in Dad's name. Given the way the girl drove, he'd be wise to get this one out of his name, too, assuming that was possible given Suzanne was only eighteen.

Entering the police station, AnnaLise waved at the officer staffing the front desk. ‘Afternoon, Charity.’

Charity Pitchford and her husband Coy were both on the force. Like AnnaLise, Coy was born in Sutherton and had gone away to school. When he came back last year, it was with Charity, a Charlotte native who was also studying criminal justice. The two had married earlier in the year and, according to Chuck, were a welcome addition to the department.

‘Afternoon, AnnaLise. You looking for the chief?’

‘I am, if he has a minute.’

‘I'm sure he does for you, though that door of his should be a revolving one today.’

‘A lot of visitors?’ AnnaLise asked, coming through the swinging half door Charity held open for her.

‘I'm told it's busy for this time of year, though I don't have the historical reference to judge.’

‘How do you like Sutherton?’

‘Just fine.’

‘But this will be your first winter, right?’

‘It will, though I think I'd be happier about it if y'all didn't ask that question with the outright glee of the cat that swallowed the canary and had me in mind for its next meal.’

AnnaLise laughed. ‘You'll be OK as long as you have a four-wheel drive vehicle.’

‘The other piece of advice I've been getting. In fact, Coy is out looking at one as we speak, which is why I'm covering the desk for him. What about you? Will you be staying for the winter?’

‘God, I hope not,’ AnnaLise said.

‘You'll be OK as long as you have a four-wheel-drive vehicle,’ Charity mimicked.

AnnaLise laughed. ‘Afraid I don't have a vehicle at all right now. My car was totaled.’

‘So I heard. I was on the desk, here, but Coy said Monday late afternoon into evening was about as crazy a few hours as he's ever experienced. One call sends our guys plus fire and rescue out there, only to stumble on something altogether unexpected.’

‘Tanja Rosewood's car already in the gorge. And ours, very nearly so.’

‘That gorge has definitely proved to be the gift that keeps right on giving.’ Charity ran a hand through strawberry blonde hair. ‘The recovery of the Porsche was no picnic, but that second vehicle down there? And God knows what we'll find beneath that. It's like we have our very own archeological . . .’ She squinted at AnnaLise, searching for the word.

‘Dig?’ AnnaLise guessed.

‘Exactly,’ Charity said, head bobbing in approval. ‘A mode of transportation for every decade. By the time we reach the bottom, we'll be down to chariots and mastodons. Sure glad Daisy and you aren't the ones we're scraping up down there right now.’

‘Amen,’ said AnnaLise, as Charity glanced back toward the desk.

‘The chief is off his phone, so you can go on back if you like. Just rap on the door before you go in.’

AnnaLise thanked her and followed instructions, only to get a testy ‘What?’ in response to her knock.

She stuck her head in. ‘Am I disturbing you?’

‘Yup,’ he said, gesturing for her to take a seat. ‘But why on earth should you be any different around here? Besides,’ he continued without giving her a chance to answer his rhetorical question, ‘I have a bone to pick with you.’

‘With me?’

Another tap on the door and Charity stuck her head in. ‘Sorry to disturb you, Chief, but Mr Rosewood is on my line.’

‘Would you tell him I'll call him back? Thanks, Charity.’ When the door closed he turned back to AnnaLise. ‘I have all the sympathy in the world for your friend Ben Rosewood, but the man is becoming a pain in the ass.’

‘He's not my friend,’ AnnaLise insisted, though she probably was protesting too much, ‘but he has over the years in Wisconsin expanded and perfected the squeaky wheel. Why? What's going on?’

‘With him? Nothing I should be complaining about, I suppose. The man just lost his wife, after all.’ Chuck ran his hand through his hair.

‘Is he pressing for information?’

Chuck shrugged. ‘He's presumably used to being treated like an integral part of the law enforcement effort back home.’

‘Direct quote?’

Chuck sighed. ‘Within a word or two.’

‘I thought I recognized it from a campaign speech of his I had to cover.’

‘Even before this happened, he was calling. Wanted to use the shooting range at odd hours, though I said that wasn't possible. Needless to say, he wasn't happy.’

‘I can't imagine there's much information to share with him anyway,’ AnnaLise said. ‘He knows about the tire being shot out?’

‘He does. Even made some helpful suggestions on how we might pursue the investigation.’

AnnaLise could imagine. ‘You just got your hands on the slug this morning, so there can't possibly be anything back from ballistics yet, right?’ AnnaLise was fishing.

‘Right.’ While Chuck wasn't quite swallowing the bait, he hadn't spit it out, either.

‘I suppose it just could have been an accident.’

‘There's essentially a rock wall, road and cliff there. Not someplace where you'd be out hunting or target-shooting, even if it were legal on the mountain. As for whether the shooter could know the car would go over? Probably not, but they could be assured of a bad crash. And with Mrs Rosewood impaired by alcohol . . .’ Chuck spread out his hands.

‘With all this contact between you and Ben, has he told you his wife had a drinking problem?’

To her surprise, Chuck nodded. ‘He did, though he asked me to keep it quiet and given that while it was a contributing factor, it wasn't the cause, I'm going to do my best.’

‘Doesn't her blood alcohol have to be in the report?’ AnnaLise asked.

‘It does,’ Chuck said, pushing back from the desk. ‘What I don't have to include is that she had a chronic drinking problem, especially since there's nothing on the record – no DWIs – ’

‘It's OWI, in Wisconsin – operating while intoxicated.’

‘ – so we just know what Mr Rosewood has told us. Which reminds me: I told you I had a bone to pick with you.’

AnnaLise didn't like the sound of that. Had Ben told Chuck about the affair? Or had Chuck found out for himself, though AnnaLise didn't see . . .’

‘. . . slipped your mind?’ the chief was saying.

‘Pardon?’

Chuck looked skyward. ‘I asked why you or your mother didn't mention Joshua Eames.’

‘Josh?’

‘Yes, Josh. According to him, he came around the corner and there you were. He was lucky to be able stop.’

‘I know,’ AnnaLise said. ‘And I'm sorry I didn't mention it, but I was a little shook up that night, as you'll recall. Though given he didn't hit us anyway – ’

‘Whether you two collided or not, it would have been helpful to know there was someone else on that road.’

‘Did Josh see anything?’

‘See? No. But he heard a shot and it's very possible . . . what?’

AnnaLise was waving her hand like a kid in school. ‘Daisy and I heard that shot, too. While we were cutting through the dead end road between Ridge Road and the bridge.’

‘Lise, that trail is closed for a reason. It's a hazard to vehicles on the road, your popping out of nowhere like that.’

‘Daisy's the one who insisted,’ AnnaLise said, having no problem with hanging her mother out to dry.

‘You tell Daisy I'll run her in if I find her up there, just like my dad, when
he
was on the force. Besides the danger you pose to other drivers, if you'd have taken a right at the lookout instead of the second clearing, you'd have landed smack on top of the folks we're
currently
trying to peel off the bottom of the gorge. Made my job considerably more difficult.’

‘Sorry,’ AnnaLise said, suppressing a smile. Chuck was so cute when he was grumpy. ‘The lookout?’

‘As in Lovers' Lookout. There's a real pretty view of the mountain and the bridge, though I doubt that was the main attraction. Kids used to park there to make out, until one night when a couple set their car a-rocking and rocked right over the side.’

‘You're kidding, right?’

Chuck shrugged. ‘Mountain lore, though I'm told that's why the road was closed.’

It didn't bear thinking about. ‘So, about the gunshot that Josh heard – it must have been the same one Daisy and I did.’

‘And yet,
I'm
only hearing about it now.’

‘You're absolutely right. Though in my own defense, nobody had any idea a gun was involved until this morning.’

‘Score another one for Earl's eagle eye. First he spotted the hole and then recovered the slug from inside the tire itself.’

‘What kind of shape is it in?’

‘You mean, is it likely matched to the weapon that fired it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Probably not, having hit the wheel rim. And, anyway, most reliable ballistics matches today are because of the extractor mark on the shelling casing when it's extracted. We're not going to find that until we have the position of the shooter and, even then, there's the terrain to deal with. Even if the casing didn't roll down a hill or off a cliff, someone who could make that shot is likely smart enough to pick up the brass.’

Talk about looking for a needle in a mountain-sized haystack.

‘But back to Joshua Eames.’ Chuck slid a paper across his desk so he could read it. ‘That young man has four outstanding citations for excessive speed. And, given how fast he likely had to travel to hie himself out of there before fire and rescue came upon you, he scored a fifth.’