Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2) (22 page)

‘To turn the car off, you just push unlock. Not only that,’ Earl continued, ‘but if you set the temperature you want the car to maintain, it'll have it all toasty for you by the time you climb in.’

AnnaLise was thinking about those long, cold Wisconsin winters. Longer and colder, seemingly, than what she remembered from growing up in the High Country.

She tried not to seem too eager. ‘Well, then, what's to be done with this?’ she asked, holding up the fob.

‘Anything you want. Your handbag or pocket, or right here in the cupholder, and you're good to go.’

‘Gotcha.’ AnnaLise dropped it into her jeans pocket. Asking another question – this one about what would happen if she left the fob in the cupholder and got out and locked the car –would only serve to damage her bargaining position even more. ‘Thanks, Earl. I'm sure I won't have it out long.’

‘Take your time. Like I said, no hurry.’ Lawling had already started away toward what she presumed was his black SUV, dialing his cell as he walked.

Probably calling his girlfriend toward the trip to the mall. Shopping in the High Country – like getting to the airport – was often a major expedition.

Inching down the gravel driveway so as not to ding the Toyota's finish, AnnaLise wondered where she should go on
her
expedition. So far the car drove like a dream, but she knew that if she were to splurge for the Camry she needed to put the unfamiliar vehicle through more demanding paces than a few miles of state highway before driving it through the mountains and back to Wisconsin alone.

Girding herself, AnnaLise turned right toward the Blue Ridge Parkway. Heading north on the highway took her past the upper entrance of Sutherton Mountain and then, as the road veered west, the gated access to Grandfather Mountain. Here, visitors could pay an entry fee and explore the pristine landmark including, if one were so inclined, crossing a mile-high swinging bridge on foot.

AnnaLise had never been so inclined. In fact, she'd have to be prone and comatose to even consider it.

Which reminded her of Josh. Now conscious but apparently clueless in the hospital. If Ben was leaving tomorrow, he must not consider Josh a threat. And, therefore, Ben wasn't a threat to Josh, a least in a physical sense.

Deep in her thoughts, AnnaLise missed the entrance to the Parkway, only realizing when the road she was on dipped under the Blue Ridge. Five years away from the High Country hadn't helped her sense of direction, which had never been particularly good anyway. In fact, after she'd gotten her driver's license, she'd become very adept at avoiding any routes that would take her on roads she viewed to be ‘scary.’

Like a nonagenarian who preferred to make only right turns, AnnaLise would get there eventually, but it might take her awhile. In the mountains it took a
long
while and the paralyzing fear really had shadowed her teen years. She'd be a fool to let it continue through to her thirties..

AnnaLise finally found a place where she could turn around safely and head back to the Parkway entrance. Taking a right at the small Blue Ridge sign this time, she followed the road as it snaked around and stopped at a stop sign. This part of the Parkway circled Grandfather Mountain. Counterclockwise took you north around the mountain to the Linn Cove Viaduct. Clockwise, or south, was less challenging and had the advantage of putting you on the side of the two-lane road closest to the mountain instead of to the abyss.

AnnaLise planned to go safely south for this first foray, so she turned left onto the Parkway, which should have taken her in that direction. It was only when she caught a glimpse of a ‘North’ sign that she realized she'd gotten turned around and was heading the wrong way.

No worry, she told herself. Although the Linn Cove Viaduct was much higher than the bridge on her own Sutherton Mountain, it had an absolutely gorgeous view. In AnnaLise's experience, though, it was tough to appreciate that when you're sobbing hysterically from fear.

Still, there had to be at least one or two scenic overlooks before she'd reach the viaduct itself. She could pull through the gravel apron of the overlook and back onto the Parkway heading the other way – blissfully and safely southward.

AnnaLise checked her rear-view mirror and saw to her dismay that a dark SUV was closing in on her. The maximum speed on the Parkway was forty-five miles per hour, even lower in some sections. But no matter the posted limit, it always seemed about ten miles an hour too fast for AnnaLise. Other motorists disagreed – especially locals who actually needed to get somewhere and were sick and tired of timid tourists puttering along.

With no way to pull over and let the other vehicle pass, AnnaLise pressed lightly on the Camry's gas. The car jumped forward, startling her. The Spyder hadn't been nearly as responsive.

More nervous by the moment, she nevertheless chanced another look in the rear-view and, though reassured the other vehicle was still well back, she did manage to miss a turn-off for one of the Parkway's scenic overlooks.

Damn. Ahead she could see the Linn Cove Viaduct snaking alongside Grandfather Mountain, supported by nothing more than giant, concrete toothpicks. Whether AnnaLise liked it or not, she would be on the bridge in mere moments, with nothing to be done but remember she was a big girl and push through her fear. Preferably without wetting any undergarments.

One more curve, and the sound of the road under the Camry's tires changed from the rumble of asphalt to the whoosh of concrete. An engineering wonder: An S-curve four football-fields long and cast in 153 fifty-ton segments so it could be lowered into place without damaging even the surface of one of the oldest mountains in the world. The only work done on the ground was the drilling for the footings of the seven abutments – AnnaLise's concrete toothpicks – that supported the viaduct.

AnnaLise knew all these facts and figures as she crept along, white-knuckled hands strangling the steering wheel while she tried to concentrate only on the road in front of her and ignore the nothingness to her right and the SUV nosing ever closer behind. She even appreciated the vision and tenacity of the engineers determined to complete the most complicated concrete bridge ever built and do it at a height of over four thousand feet.

But she dared not focus on any of that. All AnnaLise should think about was getting to the end of their viaduct. Turning the steering wheel at just the right angle to hold the curve, feeding the Camry just the right amount of gas as it came out of the turn. Every small movement was exaggerated in importance, every millisecond like an eon.

And through it all, AnnaLise wanted nothing more than to let go and close her eyes. To let the big kid in the schoolyard finally tag her in a game she knew she was destined to lose anyway.

Just to get it over with.

‘Chicken-shit.’ AnnaLise had said it aloud, and now she said it even louder. ‘Chicken-shit!’

Her mother drove this road. ‘Hell, ninety-year-old Mrs Peebly drives this road,’ AnnaLise yelled into thin air. ‘I am no . . . chicken-shit!’

Her hands were relaxing on the wheel and she tried to become one with the last of the curves, riding inside it instead of fighting its centrifugal allure. Skimming along the beautiful stretch of road, instead of fearing it. Delighting in the changing colors of the trees below while hugging that last bend like a downhill skier.

And AnnaLise was, finally, on solid earth.

She didn't dare look back, but she wanted to. Maybe let out a hoot and a holler. ‘I did it,’ AnnaLise said, also aloud. ‘Not only that, but I genuinely enjoyed it.’ A hesitation. ‘At least the last part.’

She heard a light tap-tap of a horn behind her and glanced in the mirror. Could that be Earl in the SUV? The Blue Ridge was one possible way to the mall he said he and his girlfriend wanted to visit and, in fact, the most direct route. Since the windows of the bigger vehicle were tinted, AnnaLise couldn't make out who was driving or even how many people were inside.

She raised her hand in greeting, in case it was Earl, or in apology if it wasn't. AnnaLise was feeling a little light-headed as the adrenaline faded away.

‘Chicken-shit,’ she said again, and this time laughed.

The driver tapped his or her horn again and AnnaLise realized she should pull off at the next overlook, not only as a courtesy, but to get out and walk around. Relax a little before heading back, this time south across the viaduct.

More circle-driveway than actual lot, the next turnout she came to had just enough room for perhaps two or three vehicles to park nose-in on either side of a small stand of trees. AnnaLise turned off anyway, raising her hand again in a ‘thank you for your patience’ gesture to the driver behind her, only to realize the SUV was turning in behind her.

Wonderful. Probably going to tell her what a bad driver she was. Or, even worse, ask if AnnaLise was all right.
Or maybe it's Earl and he wants to introduce you to his girlfriend
, she told herself.
Or take the Camry back for risking it on the Parkway
, she replied.

But when AnnaLise pulled into the first, angle-parking space, the SUV continued past to park on the other side of the trees. Not Earl, because this SUV – an Explorer – was dark blue, not black.

Likely some long-suffering family praying their vehicle wouldn't get stuck again behind ‘the tourist’ who'd already led them on a painfully slow trek across the viaduct.

Not to worry, AnnaLise thought as she turned off the ignition and swung open the Camry's door. She'd wait to let them leave first. Maybe get out and stretch. Take in the view. Even the thought of standing at the railing didn't seem as daunting as it once had.

Slipping out of the test-drive Toyota, AnnaLise checked her pocket for the fob. With cell phone service sometimes chancy, she didn't want to lock herself out and find she had to walk back across the viaduct, if that were even possible. She sure hadn't seen anything that suggested a pedestrian path. But then, she hadn't seen much of anything except for those last few feet of terra firma.

Leaving her purse in the car, AnnaLise swung the door closed and locked up with the fob, sliding it into her pocket as she approached the lookout.

Still not quite brave enough to walk all the way up to the railing, she nevertheless managed to get within two feet of it. ‘Not bad,’ she said.

‘Talking to yourself again?’

AnnaLise turned to see Ben Rosewood, feet planted at shoulder-width, and looking all the more menacing for seeming to be relaxed.

Thirty

The man of AnnaLise's dreams. Or nightmares, more recently accurate.

‘I'm very proud of you for making that drive over the viaduct,’ Ben said, edging closer without seeming to move at all. ‘I know how frightened you must have been.’

AnnaLise crossed her arms. ‘Actually, I was fine.’

Ben smiled – a genuine smile, not the self-effacing one he used in public, practiced in the mirror. The one that made him seem a little embarrassed by his own accomplishments. ‘So fine you barely broke ten miles an hour? I thought you were going to oversteer that Camry right off the edge.’ He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘How do you like it, by the way?’

‘It's a very nice car.’

‘Good. I've never driven it, but the thing should be, for what it cost me.’

‘Suzanne must have been thrilled.’

‘Barely said thank you, actually. But then that's kids these days.’ This smile was wistful, with a little ‘whatcha-going-to-do’ thrown in.

‘Well, I'm sure Suzanne appreciated it.’ Polite conversation, to mask the fact that AnnaLise was trying to figure out what Ben was doing there. On the other side of the trees, she could just make out the sound of his Explorer's engine still running.

Set for some version of a fast getaway? AnnaLise stepped back from the low railing and the carpet of flame-colored trees below and toward her test-drive Camry.

Ben followed gracefully, then settled his butt on the pristine car's hood. ‘Well, I'd like you to have it.’

‘Have what?’

The district attorney looked down and actually blushed. ‘The Camry.’

AnnaLise shook her head. ‘I can't take that car from you. Why would you even suggest it?’

‘Because I care about you.’ He held her eyes for a beat or two and, when she didn't respond, he continued anyway. ‘I'm flying back to Wisconsin tomorrow to make the necessary arrangements. I don't need another car and, even if I did, I don't think I could bring myself to drive this one.’

AnnaLise could feel herself softening, doubting. What if she'd been wrong? What if her former lover had nothing to do with the death of his wife and daughter? He'd lost so much in the space of four days.

‘Ben, I'm sorry.’

‘Me, too.’ He reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘That's why I followed you here.’

AnnaLise's heart skipped a beat, and not in the good way. ‘You followed me from Earl's garage?’

Ben shrugged. ‘As I said, I'm leaving tomorrow. I wanted to see you, but dropping by your mother's place wasn't an attractive – or viable – option.’

‘Good thinking,’ AnnaLise said. ‘But I don't think we have anything left to say.’ Even as she spoke those words, she began reconsidering them, not because she had any intention of continuing on with Ben, but because she wanted to see what his next move would be. ‘Unless . . .’ She practically batted her eyes at him.

Ben looked startled. ‘Unless what?’

‘Unless we can drop the pretense and become an above-board couple. After a suitable period of mourning, naturally.’

‘I don't think that's a good idea.’

‘But why not?’ AnnaLise persisted. ‘Tanja is dead and you're free. It's what you told me you've always wanted.’

‘I never said I wanted my wife dead.’

‘Of course you did,’ AnnaLise said, channeling Glenn Close, just inches away from boiling a bunny. ‘You said Tanja was a bitch. Once you even said that if she were to go down on a plane, we –’

‘For God's sake, AnnaLise, grow up.’ Ben moved her back with the palm of his hand. ‘If I had a dollar for every time I told a woman I loved her or used that –’