Read Running on Empty Online

Authors: Sandra Balzo

Tags: #Cozy Series, #Series, #Debut, #Amateur Sleuth, #Main Street Mysteries, #Crime, #Hill Country, #North Carolina, #Sandra Balzo, #Crime Fiction, #Female Sleuth, #Fiction, #Mystery Series, #General, #Mystery & Detective

Running on Empty (10 page)

BOOK: Running on Empty
2.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

'In addition to refusing to change your watch to the time zone you're in,' Bobby said,
'you're lousy at keeping in touch.'

'I know.' AnnaLise felt herself flush. Truth was, she'd been so immersed in her Wisconsin
life that she'd let her relationship with childhood friends slide. Daisy and Mama
provided the Sutherton version of CNN Headline News, but when it came to protracted
conversations... 'I'd see a message and think, I'll call back when I have the time
to truly reconnect, but...'

'There's never that kind of time,' Sheree said. 'And then, eventually, we just forget.'

'Putting us all in the same boat.' Bobby leaned across the table toward them. 'So
did you hear it was Rance Smoaks they found on the beach this morning?'

'Good riddance,' Sheree said.

'Ahh, we must be talking about Rance.' Chuck had finished up and sunk into the chair
between Bobby and AnnaLise and across the round table from Sheree. 'I hate to say
it, but the only person who's broken up on that issue is Kathleen.'

'And she's the one who should be most grateful,' Sheree said.

AnnaLise, mindful of Chuck as police chief, added, 'Not that she is.'

'Grateful to the shooter, you mean?' Chuck asked.

'No, no... I just—'

'Stop torturing her,' Sheree said. 'We all know Rance was a tool. And a dull one at
that.'

'True.' The door opened and Chuck glanced up, his eyes following the newcomer.

AnnaLise twisted to see James Duende. With the nodded permission of the couple at
the next table, AnnaLise snagged one of their chairs.

Oblivious, Sheree set down her wine. 'Whoever's that for?' gesturing at the chair.

'Your "one".'

'Jim?' Rubbernecking now. 'Where is he?'

'Right over... where'd he go?' AnnaLise looked around, but Duende had disappeared.

'The guy who just came in?' Chuck said. 'Dark wavy hair, olive complexion, military
physique?'

'Good eye,' AnnaLise said, turning back. 'I wish I was as naturally observant as you
are. I have to make myself study people and places, and then take notes.'

'It's a gift,' said Chuck. 'In my line of work—'

'Work, schmurk,' Sheree interrupted. 'You think he's hot.'

'But straight,' Chuck said.

'Straight?' AnnaLise stopped and looked at her long-ago boyfriend. 'Chuck?'

He scrunched up his eyes and then stared back. 'Yes, Lise?'

'You're... gay?'

'Got it right the first time, Annie,' Bobby said.

If you didn't count the nearly two decades AnnaLise and Chuck had been friends. And
more.

'Sorry,' Chuck said, covering her hand with this.

'You don't have to be sorry.' AnnaLise blinked. 'I'm glad you, umm...'

'Found himself?' Sheree supplied. 'I was glad, too, when he came out. Explained all
those years he ignored me.'

'You, my lady, scared the shit out of me,' Chuck said.

But I didn't, AnnaLise thought. Figures. I'm one of those women guys make 'buddies'
of. Watch the game with. Confide in about their wives and girlfriends.

She cleared her throat. 'Came out? So everyone knows?'

The 'but me', was unspoken, but not unheard by Chuck. 'I called you five, six times.'

'I know. I've been a bad friend.' She turned her hand over to squeeze his. 'So, what's
been the reaction?'

'Good.'

'Except for Rance Smoaks, the homophobe,' Sheree said. 'Like I said, good riddance.'

Bobby explained. 'Rance tried to get Chuck ousted last year, to retake the office.
It got pretty nasty.'

Chuck shrugged. 'He thought the town would prefer even an active alcoholic to a gay
guy. He was wrong.'

Dead wrong, as it turned out. 'I can't believe neither Daisy nor Mama told me,' AnnaLise
said.

'I asked them not to.' Chuck withdrew his hand and tented his fingertips. 'That I
wanted to call you.'

'And they listened?' Harder to believe than the news that her old boyfriend preferred
men.

'Sure.'

'And then promptly forgot, probably,' Bobby said nodding. 'Just like we were saying
before you got here, Chuck. Life moves on, even in Sutherton.'

Before AnnaLise could agree or disagree, the front door was yanked open.

Sunset shafts of orange, rose and purple sliced through from outside, triggering a
chorus of '
Start spreading the news...
'

The Frat Pack had arrived.

Chapter Nine

Sunday, Sept. 5, 2 a.m.

Combining the Pisgah Porters at Sal's with Midnight Espresso Martinis at Torch, was
not, in retrospect, a good idea.

-AG

 

A run, if AnnaLise survived it, might salvage the rest of the day from her hangover.

'You're shitting me, right?' Joy said, when AnnaLise called her cell. 'It's barely
eight a.m.'

'You said you wanted to run this morning,' AnnaLise protested. 'Besides, Sal's closed
at eleven last night.'

'That doesn't mean we stopped drinking.' The tone of Joy's voice added, 'you idiot.'

'Granted,' AnnaLise said. 'But think how much better you'll feel after you exercise.'

Nothing but the chilly silence of a cell connection that's been broken.

'What? No click? No dial tone?' AnnaLise said into the phone before flicking it off.
'Oh, for the days a girl knew when she'd been hung up on.'

'What dear?' Daisy stuck her head around the corner, all smiles.

How did she do it? When AnnaLise had finally tracked her down at Torch, the woman
had been pounding down vodka gimlets.

'I was just calling Joy,' AnnaLise said, holding up the phone. 'She's decided not
to run.'

'And, if elected, not to serve?' Daisy chuckled. 'I'm sorry, dear. Want to come to
the restaurant with me? Mama has Savory Scrambled Eggs today.'

The thought of eggs, savory or not, was stomach-churning. Nonetheless, AnnaLise couldn't
help asking, 'Is that the one with chipped beef in it?'

'Don't be silly,' Daisy said, lips pursed. 'That's Company Scrambled Eggs. The Savory
have Philadelphia Cream Cheese.'

'Oooh, I like those.' AnnaLise actually thought about it for a second. Then: 'No,
I really do need to run.'

'Well, your choice, but you can run anywhere,' Daisy said, gathering her handbag and
moving toward the door. 'You can only get Mama's Savory Eggs here. Today. With me.'

Mother Griggs was being insidious, but AnnaLise stayed strong. 'Don't try to guilt
me into it, Daisy. I'll exercise,
then
stop in at Mama's.'

'Suit yourself,' her mother, stepping out onto the sidewalk, 'but don't you mean "shame
you into it"?'

'Nope,' said AnnaLise to the closing door. 'I'm pretty sure I mean "guilt".'

She had gotten as far as the front sidewalk when a thought struck her: The bicycle.

As AnnaLise wheeled out on her old, powder-blue, five-speed Huffy, sporting her matching
blue bike helmet, she congratulated herself on finding just the right exercise for
the morning. Not only would she eliminate all that jarring impact of sole to concrete,
AnnaLise would also spare her stomach the nauseating jostling and, with luck, feel
well enough and get back soon enough to have breakfast with Daisy.

Not guilt? My ass.

The trail was asphalt and nicely level along the south and west sides of Lake Sutherton,
so AnnaLise decided to bike clockwise until even with the White Tail Island bridge
on the north shore and then retrace her route, counterclockwise. With the exception
of Dickens Hart's mini-mansion, summer rental cottages lined the eastern waterfront,
and the trail maintenance there was at best hit-and-miss. Mostly miss.

For the sake of this morning's hangover, AnnaLise planned to steer clear of both the
uneven eastern trail and Hart, himself, lest he press her to fill her cute little
bike basket with his journals and notes.

Yes, better to see Hart this afternoon, she thought riding past Sal's Tap and onto
the trail entrance marked by the statue to the Faithful Dog.

'You poor pooch,' she said to the granite retriever. 'Your master went away and all
you got was this lousy statue.'

Paralleling Main Street west of town, she ticked off the impressive properties that
lined Lake Sutherton. Unlike the nameless canine depicted in stone, the homes had
impressive titles: Miller House and Preston Place, Watkins Nest and Cranswick Cottage.

North of the residential stretch was the Sutherton Post Office. It was situated next
to the north launch for the convenience of the mailboat that serviced the homes and
cottages along the lake. In the winter months, when the lake was frozen, the courier
discharged his appointed rounds the less colorful way. By four-wheel-drive truck.

But in the summer, much to the delight of tourists who paid fifteen dollars each for
the pleasure of riding along, local college students would deliver the mail, hopping
off the mailboat on one side of the property and catching up with it on the other,
just in time to jump back on.

Each delivery was accompanied by the sound of passengers cheering on the kids and,
on occasion, the splash of one of them landing in the drink, usually in a not life-threatening,
but immensely entertaining way.

Truth be told, the shtick was mostly about entertainment, which explained why tourists
were boarding the boat, even sans mail. Today the vessel carried thick Sunday newspapers
instead. Hell, in order to keep the visitors — and their fifteen bucks — coming back,
the mailboat would deliver pizzas if necessary.

As AnnaLise rode by, the excursion was readying to head out with Sal's granddaughter,
Nicole Goldstein, as the designated mail-runner. AnnaLise waved and nearly lost control
of her bike, hitting a tree root that had pushed its manifest destiny heavenward through
the asphalt.

AnnaLise couldn't see who was at the wheel, but she assumed it was Bob Esmond. Cap'n
Bob had helmed the boat for as long as AnnaLise could remember.

As she'd experienced when first returning to Main Street, there was a definite comfort
in things remaining the same. But also, AnnaLise had to concede, in things changing.
Like Sutherton embracing an openly gay chief of police. AnnaLise was proud of her
hometown and proud of Chuck. It couldn't have been easy to grow up gay and closeted
in such a small, closely knit community. It must have been even tougher to open the
door and come out.

All in all, AnnaLise's world was shaping up. Daisy seemed sharp this morning and her
daughter was feeling better by the minute. There was a lot to be said for crisp mountain
air over warm tomato juice and Tabasco sauce as the preferred hangover cure, though
AnnaLise did wish she'd thought to take a couple of aspirins.

Just past the north launch and Lucky's Bait Shop, serving it, Main Street veered away
from the lake. The walk/jog/bicycle path AnnaLise was riding on, though, continued
to parallel the shoreline. She rode under a bridge of hand-hewn timber and found herself
in front of the second-most impressive house on Lake Sutherton, Bradenham.

Yes, just 'Bradenham'.

Hart wasn't the only narcissist on the lake.

AnnaLise paused, putting one foot down to stay balanced on her bike. Should she stop
at the house and see if Bobby was around? Tempting, but she really wasn't dressed
for visiting and if Mrs. B happened to be lurking...

'AnnaLise!'

OK, so Mrs. B
was
lurking.

AnnaLise shaded her eyes and turned, trying to locate the woman. Her mistake was looking
at the house instead of toward the lake.

Bobby's mother waved from a lounge chair on a wide, wooden deck cantilevered over
the water. It was connected to the house by the bridge AnnaLise had just passed beneath.

'Wow,' she said, looking up. 'This is gorgeous. New?'

'It is, and I must say I am very proud,' Mrs. B said. 'Leave your bicycle and come
have a lemonade with me, so I can show off my outdoor living space properly.'

How do you pass up an offer like that? And an 'outdoor living space', no less. AnnaLise
leaned her bike against one of the bridge supports and looked both ways. 'How do I
get up to you?'

BOOK: Running on Empty
2.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Hound of Rowan by Henry H. Neff
The Ecstasy of Tral-Gothica by Victor Hadnot, Amanda Travis
Too Wicked to Tame by Jordan, Sophie
Gina and Mike by Buffy Andrews
No mires atrás by Karin Fossum
Brave (Healer) by April Smyth
Tin City by David Housewright