Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2)

by Sandra Balzo

  ‘Nobody knew the tire of the car had been shot out then.’

  ‘Except the person who did it,’ AnnaLise reminded her.

  ‘Which is why you're suspicious of your boyfriend. Go on.’

  AnnaLise ignored the present tense use of ‘boyfriend’ this time. ‘Anyway, I was upstairs at the inn, leaving you the note, when Ben and Suzanne came in the front door. He could easily have seen my handbag on the hall table the moment they walked in.’

  ‘So he knew you were there. Would he have said anything to his daughter?’

  ‘No, I'm sure he didn't, because I could hear their conversation. Ben wanted Suze to stay and she wanted to be with Josh.’

  ‘Josh?’

  ‘Joshua Eames, her boyfriend. Suzanne sounded like a whiny brat, especially under the circumstances, but eventually she and her father agreed that she'd go with Josh and be back for dinner. The door opened and closed, so I thought she'd left and nearly collided with her as I started down the steps.’

  ‘She set a trap for you.’

  ‘No, she'd just forgotten her jacket. She brushed right past me on the stairs, grabbed it and left. From her attitude both then and earlier in the day, I figured she must know about the affair, but Ben says no.’

  ‘So while this all was going on, Ben was busy deleting your messages?’

  ‘I came downstairs right after Suze left and Ben was just coming in from the front hallway, with my bag in his hand. I bet he dug out my phone and cleared it when Suze ran upstairs.’

  ‘Entirely logical, if he did kill his wife and planned to pin it on you. But have you thought about why he might “mess with your phone,” as you put it, if his wife's death was an accident, as you so schizophrenically suggested just moments ago?’

  ‘I don't know,’ AnnaLise admitted. ‘I'm just trying to be open-minded and look at all the possibilities.’

  ‘OK, so how about this one: maybe he thought you'd dumped him for another man and was checking your cell for messages or pictures. It's a time-honored tradition.’

  AnnaLise sat up straighter in her chair. ‘A new man is the last thing on my mind right now. It never occurred to me that Ben might suspect I'd already found one.’

  Joy shrugged. ‘It is the classic reason to give someone the old heave-ho.’

  ‘I suppose he could have seen me chatting with James Duende at Mama's Monday morning and read something into it,' AnnaLise admitted. 'Though given Ben's ego, I doubt he could fathom any male being preferable to him. And if I thought so, it would just be proof I wasn't worthy of him. Ben, I mean.’

  ‘Damn,’ Joy said, studying her face, ‘this guy really got into your head.’

  Or AnnaLise had got into Ben's head. An even more terrifying thought. ‘No,’ she said, then qualified with, ‘Or, at least, not anymore.’

  ‘Good.’ Joy didn't look like she believed her friend. ‘So let's assume, just for the time being, that your DA is a normal human being, with very real insecurities and fears of his own.’

  AnnaLise's shrug said, If we must.

  ‘You kissed him off and then – in his mind – fled here. Mightn't he ask himself why? Why now, and why Sutherton? It's not much of a stretch to think you might be running to someone, not away from him.’

  ‘I'll grant you that,’ AnnaLise said. ‘But the real reason, my mom, was more logical. Besides, even if Ben knew nothing about Daisy's problems, Sutherton is my childhood home. I could certainly come here without it having anything to do with him and our breakup.’

  ‘According to you, he's an egotist at best and a sociopath or even psychopath at worse,’ Joy said, shifting in her chair. ‘Having had experience with two out of those three in the person of Dickens Hart, let me just say that type of man, that type of person, believes everything revolves around them.’

  AnnaLise had a mental picture of Ben as the sun, with Tanja and her rotating around him, sometimes one closer, sometimes the other.

  ‘I mean, look what he did to his own daughter,’ Joy continued. ‘Who sends his kid to college just so he can cheat when he visits her?’

  ‘No, no, no,’ AnnaLise said, shaking her head. ‘I wasn't living here when Suze enrolled and Ben had no way of knowing that I would be.’ Then she hesitated, adding: ‘Or staying here temporarily, I should say. Besides, whatever he intended, I'm pretty sure it was a chance meeting with Joshua Eames that decided Suzanne on U-Mo.’

  ‘Must have been a happy coincidence for your Ben. And as for your not living here at the time, so what? You'd both have built-in excuses for visiting. Beats the hell out of having to come up with reasons to take off for somewhere anonymous to do the dirty.’

  Joy's tone bespoke more personal experience than accusation, but AnnaLise still felt herself flush. ‘I'm done with ”the dirty” as you put it. And, as we both know, Sutherton is just the opposite of anonymous.’

  ‘What can I say?’ Joy shrugged. ‘Lover-boy's not from a small town. He didn't realize there was no way you could come here and not stay with your mom.’

  AnnaLise could just imagine Daisy's reaction to her daughter's ‘shacking up’ in her childhood room. ‘She'd get out one of my father's guns and run us both out of town. But you're wrong about Ben. He was born in northern Wisconsin. I can't remember where, exactly, but I remember him saying how much he loved hunting and fishing with his dad.’

  Her face changed. ‘It was in the context of how much he'd wanted a son. Both Suze and Tanja found the idea of the north woods off-putting.’

  ‘Bet that's not all he told you his wife found “off-putting.”’ When AnnaLise reacted, Joy spread out her hands. ‘Hey, believe me, you're not the first one to be fed a line and, if you'll excuse the expression, swallow it – hook, line and . . . dinker.’

  As Joy started to snicker, AnnaLise leveled her with a stare. ‘Enough. We were talking about my text messages.’

  ‘I told you, he thought you were fooling around on him, so he did what any right-minded person would: he checked your phone.’

  ‘God knows I'm no expert on right-minded people, but whatever Ben did, he certainly couldn't have found anything besides the occasional message from you or Sheree.’

  ‘You don't get texts from Chuck or Bobby? Rosewood wouldn't have any way of knowing one is your brother and the other's gay.’

  ‘Bobby is not my brother.’ AnnaLise was reaching the end of her patience. ‘And Chuck . . . well, OK, so Chuck is gay. But no matter what Ben found or what he thought, why would he delete his own texts and leave everything else?’

  Joy shrugged. ‘OK, let's look at it from another angle. You said Rosewood didn't want you to confide in anyone about the affair. Maybe he was shocked you still had his texts and deleted them to make sure you could never come back and use them against him. Maybe he's planning to run for president or something.’

  AnnaLise thought about that. ‘I'm trying to find a hole in your logic, but that actually makes some sense, knowing Ben.’

  ‘Why, thank you.’ Joy downed the rest of her tequila. 'It's amazing how stupid people can be about cell phones. I dated a guy once who sent me weenie pictures.’ She glanced at AnnaLise. ‘Don't worry, it wasn't your biological father.’

  ‘I'm relieved.’

  ‘Honestly,’ Joy continued, ‘I never understood photographing body parts. I mean, what's the point if you don't see them in . . .’ She seemed to be searching for a word.

  ‘Context?’ AnnaLise supplied.

  ‘More like scale. You know, include a ruler or something.’

  AnnaLise didn't know what to say, so she settled for, ‘Sure. Though, ultimately, parts is parts.’

  But Joy was looking past her. ‘Speaking of parts – and I'm betting good ones, at that – Sheree and James Duende just came in.’ She waved.

  AnnaLise plastered a smile on her face and turned. Much as she loved Sheree and liked James, the last thing she wanted to do right now was make small talk and watch Sheree defend her turf in the person of James. ‘Not a word about what
we've been discussing, you hear?’

  ‘My lips are sealed.’

  ‘Hey, girls – isn't it a little early in the week to be doing shots?’ Sheree nodded toward the glasses on the table.

  ‘It may be Wednesday,’ Joy said, ‘but it sure feels like Friday. Join us?’

  ‘Happily,’ Duende said, pulling out the chair next to AnnaLise and sitting down. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Drink?’ AnnaLise asked, signaling for the waitress.

  The woman turned and rushed off.

  Twenty

  ‘What in the world did you two do to her?’ Sheree Pepper asked as she took the stool on the other side of Duende.

  ‘Not me,’ Joy said. ‘AnnaLise alienated her by talking about boiling bunnies.’

  ‘Ahh, Fatal Attraction,’ Duende said, approvingly. ‘One of my favorite movies.’

  ‘Mine, too. Until now.’ AnnaLise threw Joy a warning look and changed the subject. ‘I'm glad you're both here – Joy and Sheree, I mean. No offense, James.’

  He patted her hand. ‘None taken. Want me to leave?’

  ‘No!’ the three of them chorused. The James Duende fan club.

  ‘I understand you're working on a website for the town,’ AnnaLise started.

  ‘That we are,’ Sheree said. ‘Fact, James has been kind enough to write some copy for us, so he knows all about it, too.’

  Famous biographer, writing website copy. Maybe the relationship between James and Sheree was more serious than AnnaLise had thought.

  ‘That's awfully kind of you,’ she said to Duende now. ‘Are you looking for content?’

  ‘Why? Are you offering your services?’ Sheree jumped in.

  ‘Careful, partner,’ Joy said. ‘For all you know, AnnaLise wants to serialize Dickens Hart's memoirs.’

  ‘First I'd have to write them,’ AnnaLise said. ‘But seriously, what I'm thinking about would be much more informal. I wouldn't write it, the town would.’

  ‘The town?’ Sheree repeated. ‘And what do you have in mind? Home maintenance tips from Fred Eames? Wiring no-no's from Scotty the Electrician?’ She leaned forward to peer at Joy past both Duende and AnnaLise. ‘Now that AnnaLise poses it, I believe this idea could raise us some revenue, don't you?’

  ‘No, no,’ AnnaLise said, ‘I'm talking about a simple blog where people could post about their lives or maybe their memories.’

  ‘Like your suggested historical profile of the inn, Sheree,’ Joy said. ‘But I'm fairly certain you don't plan to pay for the privilege.’

  ‘No more than you do for your ‘Fitness Facts,’ Sheree snapped.

  AnnaLise looked at Duende and he shrugged. ‘It's been a bit of a rocky start-up.’

  ‘I can see why.’ Back to Joy and Sheree, with an emphasis on the latter, since AnnaLise had already broached the idea with Joy. ‘No, no fix-er-upper ideas. I'm thinking of a weekly blog by the locals here. People like you, Sheree, or maybe Ida Mae, Mama or Daisy. Anyone with a Sutherton story to tell.’

  Duende had been studying her face. Now he spoke up. ‘I think that's a great idea.’

  ‘You do?’ Sheree asked. ‘Seems a little . . . well . . .’

  ‘Podunk?’ Joy supplied. ‘Cheesy? Down home?’

  AnnaLise elbowed her. She'd expected Joy to support the idea.

  ‘Exactly,’ Sheree was saying. ‘And meaning no offense to Daisy and Mama, AnnaLise, they're not writers.’

  ‘But that's the beauty of it,’ Duende said. ‘Genuine people who have lived here all their lives. You could title it “Voices of Main Street.”’

  ‘Voices.’ Sheree seemed to be warming, though whether it was to the idea, or the man ‘voicing’ it, wasn't clear. ‘You know, I think I like it. After all, a town is its people.’

  ‘Or what's left of them,’ Joy said, in full argument mode. ‘Forgive me since I'm fairly new as a full-time resident, but last year you had a skier choke on gum and die on her way down the ski slope and two fishermen squished by a Land Cruiser in front of the bait vending machine. And just last week, a woman nearly bled out at the blood drive,’ an apologetic glance toward AnnaLise, ‘and two bodies snagged up or washed up from the lake, one bludgeoned and the other shot. Do we really want to let potential summer folk and skiers know the wackiness that is Sutherton's Main Street?’

  Sheree looked at Duende. ‘She has a point, you know. We're trying to attract tourists to Sutherton, not scare them off.’

  ‘Oh, please. No one will blog about those things,’ AnnaLise protested.

  ‘Because our citizens are so reliable?’ Joy said. ‘Hell, AnnaLise, your mother actually committed one of “those things”.’

  ‘That whole incident was blown way out of proportion,’ AnnaLise protested. ‘Mrs Bradenham didn't lose more than a pint.’ In addition to the one she'd already donated officially.

  ‘You're missing Joy's point,’ Sheree said. ‘How would you have us stop them from posting whatever they wanted? I certainly don't have the time to monitor a blog and neither does Joy.’

  ‘We're trying to keep the basic website as timeless as possible,’ Duende explained, ‘so updating will be limited to things like the calendar of events.’

  ‘We certainly could put a blog on the home page,’ Sheree said. ‘And I do think it would be effective to have something interactive on a page that's otherwise relatively static, especially if we or James don't have to write it.’

  Joy shook her head. ‘But I say again: there's no way that we could let people post just anything they wanted. We'd need a gatekeeper and, as Sheree said, neither of us has that kind of time.’

  AnnaLise could feel them looking at her. She sighed. ‘Fine. I'll do it with Daisy's help. But remember.’ She raised a finger. ‘I'll be heading back to Wisconsin at the end of the month.’

  ‘We're talking the Internet – do it from China for all I care,’ Joy said. ‘Now let's drink on it.’

  ‘That would be a whole lot easier,’ AnnaLise said, ‘if we had drinks.’

  ‘I'll go to the bar,’ Duende said, getting to his feet. ‘Red wine, Sheree, and tequila for Joy. AnnaLise, are you sticking with beer?’ He pointed at her empty pilsner glass.

  ‘Please. Hefe-Weisen.’

  ‘As good a taste in beers as you have in movies.’ Bowing with a flourish, he left them for the bar.

  ‘Good taste,’ Sheree said crankily. ‘I hate movies like Fatal Attraction. They give me nightmares.’

  ‘It's just a movie,’ AnnaLise said. ‘Make-believe. If anything should give you nightmares, it's the litany of real-life happenings Joy just recited.’

  Sheree shivered. ‘And she didn't even include the very latest.’

  ‘You mean the Rosewood woman's car going over the cliff?’ Joy asked, earning a glare from AnnaLise.

  ‘That poor man,’ Sheree said, now tick-tocking her own head, but sadly. ‘Losing the two of them in less than that many days.’

  AnnaLise's head jerked around. ‘Two of them?’

  ‘Why, I'm sorry,’ Sheree said. ‘I thought you must know.’

  Joy glanced at AnnaLise and then back to Sheree. ‘Know what?’

  ‘You neither? Why, however long have you two been in here?’ Sheree asked. ‘It's all over town. There was a shooting.’

  ‘Where?’ AnnaLise's lips could hardly form the word.

  ‘On the mountain.’ Duende had come back with the tequila and the wine.

  AnnaLise felt herself relax. Maybe she'd misunderstood.

  ‘The tire on the Porsche?’ Joy said. ‘Sure, we knew about that. Ouch!’ This last as AnnaLise kicked her.

  ‘The tire was shot out?’ Duende asked, not making a move to go back for the rest of the bar order. ‘By whom?’

  AnnaLise and Joy shrugged in unison.

  ‘Interesting,’ Sheree said. ‘It does make one wonder if the two incidents might be connected.’

  ‘So there was a second?’ AnnaLise asked. ‘Shooting, I mean?’

  ‘Worse, a double shooting,’ Duende said. ‘
Presumably attempted murder/suicide.’

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. AnnaLise's brain repeated it over and over again until the words blurred into the dull roar of water rushing over water over rocks, the feeling of going under and never –

  ‘AnnaLise, are you all right?’ Duende's voice.

  The journalist tried to get hold of herself. Ben. Suzanne. Had Suzanne suspected her father of killing her mother and exacted her revenge, then taken her own life? ‘You . . . Did you say “attempted murder/suicide”?’

  ‘Technically,’ Sheree said, ‘I believe it would be murder/attempted-suicide.’

  ‘He's dead?’ AnnaLise said in a strangled whisper.

  ‘No, no.’ Duende was shaking his head. ‘He’s the one still alive, more's the pity. Shot the girl in the head and then turned the gun on himself, but either lost his nerve or wasn't much of a shot.’

  Lost his nerve, AnnaLise thought. Ben was a good shot. Or so he claimed. But then Ben believed he was a success at everything. And now he'd succeeded at killing his daughter.

  But why?

  ‘. . . in critical condition,’ Duende was saying.

  ‘Has anyone asked him?’ AnnaLise said.

  ‘Asked him what?’

  ‘Why he did it? Why he killed his daughter?’ God help her, she'd almost added, And his wife.

  Trying to get control of her breathing, AnnaLise closed her eyes again. When she opened them, everyone was looking at her.

  ‘Whatever are you talking about?’ Sheree asked.

  ‘Ben Rosewood. Have the police asked him why he killed Suzanne?’

  James Duende put his hand gently on her shoulder. ‘I'm sorry, AnnaLise. I'd forgotten that you know these people.’

  ‘You do?’ This from Sheree.

  AnnaLise remembered that while James had been in Mama's when she'd first seen Ben and his family, Sheree had no way of knowing even as much as Duende did.

  ‘From work.’ Joy was trying to help. ‘Rosewood is – or probably was, given what's happened – the County District Attorney and AnnaLise being a police reporter and all . . .’ She let it trail off.