Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2)

by Sandra Balzo

  ‘Know what?’ Daisy said, looking back and forth between them. ‘Whatever you heard, Josh, it was just us gossiping. You know how much we all love to gossip in Sutherton.’

  ‘I do, Daisy. Especially you women.’

  ‘You don't like women?’ AnnaLise asked.

  Josh shook his head, just once. ‘I sure try to, but . . . well, don't take offense, but I've found you just can't trust 'em.’

  Funny, but AnnaLise had been thinking the same about men recently. Not that she planned to mention it to Josh just now. ‘We can be flighty creatures.’

  ‘Truer words were never spoken,’ Josh said. ‘My mother, even Suze. Say one thing, then do another.’

  ‘They said they loved you?’ Daisy asked gently.

  AnnaLise, who wasn't so sure this was a good tack to take, kept quiet.

  Josh dipped his head. ‘They did, Daisy. That they did. And then they left.’

  A ‘huh!’ sounded in the woods. AnnaLise was appalled that it apparently had come from her.

  ‘You question that, AnnaLise?’ Josh said, taking another step toward them.

  ‘I'm sure AnnaLise wasn't so much questioning,’ Daisy said, sending a warning glance her daughter's direction, ‘as expressing disgust. At Suzanne's behavior, and especially your mother's.’

  ‘Right,’ AnnaLise said, and that didn't come out quite the way she meant it, either. Sarcasm might be called for, but she'd be the first one to say it shouldn't be expressed right at the moment.

  ‘Now you see, Daisy?’ This from Josh. ‘Your daughter is doing exactly what I said. Saying one thing, but meaning another.’

  ‘My –’ AnnaLise's voice cracked. There was something about having Daisy there with her that made the reporter more frightened, even, than when she'd been alone on the Parkway facing Ben. Whether it was because AnnaLise felt like a little girl, wanting her mommy to save her, or because she feared for Daisy's life as well as her own, would need further study.

  Later.

  AnnaLise cleared her throat. ‘My . . . skepticism,’ perhaps not the best word choice, but she'd have to live with it, ‘was not that your mother and Suze betrayed you, but that they'd left you. From what I've learned – and maybe you can tell me better, Josh – but from what I know now, neither of them left you of their own volition.’

  ‘Oh, but they did.’ Another step closer and they could see his eyes clearer. Not that it mattered, because the blue eyes were dead, as expressionless as the face they were set in. ‘I just . . . hastened them along their way.’

  The game of tag, surrendered. ‘Just to get it over with.’

  ‘Exactly.’ A smile on Josh's face, but not really. ‘You understand.’

  ‘Well, I surely don't,’ Daisy said, and AnnaLise saw that she still had the cell in her hand, blocked from Josh's view by the car door. ‘Can somebody explain?’

  Josh shook his head.

  ‘I can, Daisy,’ AnnaLise said, hoping to distract the young man – the crazy young man – long enough for her mother to dial. ‘I think I can explain everything.’

  ‘Do you now, AnnaLise?’ Interest was sparking in Josh's face for the first time, like a hunter whose winged prey had just taken erratic – and futile – flight. ‘Then please, go on.’

  ‘Thank you, I will,’ AnnaLise said politely. ‘But where would you like me to start? At the beginning with your mother?’

  ‘That would be fine,’ Josh said, tipping his head. ‘No need to go into how lonely I was, with my father going about his business, and my mother . . . hers. Though I did do my best to please my father early on, going hunting and fishing and the like.’

  Now a laugh, harsh in the peaceful twilight. ‘Ol' Fred would get so irritated that I didn't seem capable of a clean kill, he eventually stopped bringing me hunting with him. Which was fine by me. That way I was free to wing quarry on my own. Takes a damn good shot to do that, you know – maim, I mean, without killing outright. And with no Fred to interfere and finish them off, I could sit and watch for hours as the light in their eyes slowly . . . flickered . . . out.’

  AnnaLise felt sick to her stomach. From behind her, Daisy said, ‘But about your mother?’

  ‘I didn't get to see the light go out of her eyes.’

  AnnaLise swallowed. ‘Did you catch them here, Josh? Did you see your mother with her lover?’

  ‘I did, but it wasn't just the one, AnnaLise. There were quite a few, actually.’

  ‘Told you,’ came loudly from behind AnnaLise.

  ‘Shh, Daisy.’ AnnaLise was shuddering. ‘So your mother was promiscuous, Josh?’

  ‘“My mother” was a whore. I saw her take money from those men and then get out of their cars to walk home.’

  ‘Convenient, I suppose, Lovers' Lookout being so close to your house.’ Again from Daisy, and this time AnnaLise tipped to the fact that her mother had successfully connected with someone – hopefully the police – on the cell. ‘So you killed her, Josh?’

  Daisy's attempt to get the young man to confess seemed way too obvious and, besides, AnnaLise wanted to live until the police got there. ‘You were very young,’ she said sympathetically.

  Joshua Eames was looking off into the distance. ‘At first, she'd buy me presents. Things I knew we couldn't afford. I figured out where the money was coming from, even if my dad didn't.’

  ‘He found out somehow?’

  ‘Nope.’ He turned his attention back to AnnaLise.

  ‘Then what changed? Why –’

  ‘Why? Because she was going to leave, don't you understand? The gifts . . . everything was going to stop. She owed me for her being with them,’ he spat out the indictment, ‘when I was the one who needed her.’

  ‘So you kept her from leaving.’

  ‘No. I sent her away, before she could leave me.’

  ‘How?’ Daisy's voice.

  ‘Easy.’ A smirk from Josh. ‘She took her car that day. I'm not sure why. Maybe the guy had a pick-up or something. Awkward for what they had in mind, you know? Her driver's door was open, just like yours is right now. And with a manual transmission, all I had to do was reach in and –’

  ‘ – put it in neutral,’ AnnaLise said.

  ‘Shh,’ came from Daisy. ‘Let Joshua tell us. It is his story, after all.’

  ‘Sorry,’ AnnaLise said. ‘Go on, Josh.’ And slowly, she prayed.

  ‘No, you're right, AnnaLise, I just slid the stick from park to neutral, then all it took was a little push.’

  Big for his age, AnnaLise heard in her head again. ‘But your mother and . . . they were in the car, right? Didn't they notice? Maybe feel the car move and pull on the brake?’

  Now Josh laughed outright. ‘You're kidding, right?’

  ‘No. Why?’

  He snorted. ‘Because they were in the back seat, of course.’

  Thirty-seven

  Daisy said, ‘Four-on-the-floor, I imagine.’

  AnnaLise preferred not to imagine the scenario at all. She turned to Josh. ‘And Suze?’

  ‘She was going to leave me, too.’

  ‘I suppose Suzanne found out you killed her mother?’ Daisy asked loudly from directly behind AnnaLise.

  Her daughter rubbed her right ear. ‘Assuming you did kill Tanja.’

  ‘I did, though I have to say I got lucky there. I figured shooting from here would give me a clear shot across the gorge and, what with the car being yellow, I got a good bead on it coming down around that last bend to the bridge .Even so, the shot was a lot more challenging than wounding an animal or shoving a car off a cliff.’

  ‘Hey, you were only ten then,’ Daisy said. ‘Give yourself credit.’

  ‘Nix the sarcasm, please?’ AnnaLise hissed over her shoulder, then turned back to Josh: ‘What would you have done if the Porsche had just crashed instead of going over the cliff?’

  Josh shrugged. ‘I'd have figured out something. In fact, I was walking over there to confirm the kill when I came across you.’

  ‘Walking?’
AnnaLise asked. ‘So you weren't driving your truck.’

  ‘Why? So somebody could ID it? Cutting through the woods on foot is a lot faster, anyway.’

  ‘But then who was driving the truck that nearly hit us?’ AnnaLise asked.

  ‘Got me,’ Josh said. ‘It just kept on going.’

  ‘Told you.’ Daisy, again.

  ‘You didn't call nine-one-one,’ AnnaLise said to Josh.

  ‘Nope, just like you said, talking to Daisy. That siren took me by surprise, while I was figuring out what to do.’

  ‘With us, you mean?’ Again, the sick feeling in the pit of AnnaLise's stomach.

  ‘Of course, with you. I figured you'd seen me, AnnaLise, though as it turns out you'd closed your eyes. If I'd known that I would have just gone on my way and left you there.’

  ‘But as it was, what if the rescue squad hadn't chased you off?’ Daisy asked, like she had to know.

  Josh cocked his head. ‘I'm not sure. Interesting question, though. I surely have experience with sending bigger vehicles over than that crushed Spyder of yours, AnnaLise. I could have probably picked the little thing up and tossed it.’

  AnnaLise thought not, but kept her mouth shut.

  ‘But back to Suzanne,’ Daisy said. ‘She figured out you'd killed her mother?’

  ‘Worse. She told me she was leaving. With everything that'd happened, she'd decided to go back to Wisconsin with her father. I didn't expect that. We had plans. She told me, she loved me more than anything. Anyone.’ He was close enough now that AnnaLise could see a vein in his forehead throbbing.

  ‘Sounds like you should have killed the father,’ AnnaLise's mother muttered. ‘Would have saved everybody a lot of trouble.’

  ‘Daisy!’ AnnaLise scolded, though she wasn't sure why.

  ‘I was just so angry,’ Josh said, and for the first time he looked shaken. ‘I showed Suze the rifle, explained what I'd done for us and that with her mother's family and all their money we'd be rich. You know how she answered me?’

  ‘No,’ said Daisy and AnnaLise simultaneously.

  ‘Suze said, “I'm rich.” Not us, her. Just like my mother, she was going to leave me behind. I couldn't let Suze do that.’ His head dropped, as did his voice. ‘I had no choice . . . I shot her and . . . and, maybe my dad was right, I'm just not capable of a clean kill.’

  When he looked up, there were tears in his eyes. ‘I sat there and watched her die. But it wasn't the same.’ This last, a strained whisper.

  ‘You mean, as the animals?’ AnnaLise asked.

  He shook his head, the tears streaming now. ‘She . . . Suze could talk a little. She kept asking me, “Why?”’

  No one spoke now.

  ‘And you know what?’ Josh finally continued. ‘I didn't know. I don't know why I'm like this.’

  ‘So you shot yourself,’ Daisy said gently, the way she'd started this conversation.

  Josh hung his head. ‘And even that, I couldn't do right. What's wrong with me?’

  He started toward them and AnnaLise swung the door as if to close it, smashing into his legs.

  It slowed Josh down, but it didn't stop him. Limping, juked like an injured football player, he kept coming.

  Their backs to the cliff, with less than three feet of solid earth between them and the gorge, AnnaLise pushed her mother out of his path. ‘Run, Daisy!’

  Daisy stumbled, but managed to regain her footing. AnnaLise held her ground as Josh rushed forward. Her plan was to sidestep when he gained shoving distance, hoping his momentum and reduced agility would send him over the edge instead of her.

  As Josh reached her out for her, AnnaLise went to dodge, only to have him do the same, like two polite people on a sidewalk, trying to slip past each other.

  Then Josh grabbed her by a shoulder, his face wild, spittle at the corners of his mouth and tears running down his cheeks.

  Daisy screamed and AnnaLise let herself go limp, wanting to take him by surprise so she could thrust upward with her knee, while holding on to him. So that even if she went over, Josh would as well.

  And Daisy would be safe.

  Even as AnnaLise raised her knee, though, she felt him lift her off her feet and toss.

  AnnaLise Griggs' last thought was, ‘Maybe he could have thrown the Spyder over the side,’ before she landed hard on some piece of solid ground.

  While Joshua Eames charged past her and flew off the cliff.

  Thirty-eight

  ‘Well, at least he finally got it right,’ Daisy said.

  AnnaLise was sitting with her in the Griggs kitchen. Ida Mae had been disappointed they wouldn't make dinner, especially given the stories they could have told, but she understood.

  And scheduled a rain-check time for the next day.

  Chuck, and what seemed like the entire Sutherton police force, had arrived at the Chrysler to find AnnaLise and Daisy huddled a few feet away from the edge of the gorge, shivering.

  ‘Good thing your phone had GPS,’ AnnaLise said, now pouring her mother some wine with still-shaking hands and then emptying the rest of the bottle into her glass. ‘Chuck said that despite all our talking, we never clearly said where we were.’

  ‘Oops.’ Daisy took a sip of her wine. ‘I don't even like wine, yet I believe this might be the best elixir I've ever tasted.’

  Elixir. ‘You were wonderful out there,’ AnnaLise said. ‘My mom the hero.’

  ‘I don't feel like a hero,’ Daisy said. ‘I feel . . . confused.’

  AnnaLise's stomach dropped. ‘Confused in what way?’

  Daisy flapped her hand at her daughter. ‘Oh, not in that way. My memory of what happened would be just fine, thank you. Too fine, in fact. That poor boy.’

  ‘That poor boy was a monster.’

  ‘But not of his own making,’ Daisy said. ‘His mother was wild well before Fred Eames met her and God knows what she might have taken when she was pregnant. They say crack babies don't have a sense of right and wrong, maybe . . .’ She let it drift off.

  ‘Maybe.’ AnnaLise echoed. ‘I wonder if we'll ever know. I guess . . . well, I guess I understand why somebody like Ben Rosewood doesn't believe in “accidents.” It's a whole lot easier to believe there's a reason something horrible happened, something that could have been prevented. Because otherwise, we're powerless. Vulnerable. We could all become Joshes.’

  ‘I'm not sure there's anything more terrifying than knowing that something inside of you isn't right and not being able to do anything about it.’

  AnnaLise wasn't sure if her mother was talking about herself or the young man who had just thrown himself off the cliff.

  But nothing would be gained tonight by asking. Instead, AnnaLise reached over and put a hand over her mother's. ‘It's been a long day, Daisy. Time for bed?’

  ‘I think so. Though I doubt I'll sleep.’ Daisy stood up and started toward the stairs, hesitating at the plywood-covered window next to the front door. ‘Oh, did you hear the chief say that this was the work of one of Scotty's guys? The house in the next block, too.’

  AnnaLise shook her head. ‘Scotty is putting hits out on people who fire him?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Daisy said. ‘Just their windows. And it wasn't Scotty himself, you understand. Just an employee who was angry he was let go, business being down.’

  ‘Not going to get any better, shooting out windows,’ AnnaLise said, suddenly weary. ‘The way we're going, you'll never have a working door on that garage, Daisy.’

  ‘The door will wait.’ She peered at her daughter. ‘What about you? Bedtime, too?’

  AnnaLise smiled. ‘I think I'll sit for a while, thanks.’

  This time Daisy made it as far as the second step before she turned back. ‘You're a good person, AnnaLise. You made a mistake with that DA, but you figured it out. I'm proud to be your mother.’

  AnnaLise felt herself tearing up. ‘Thanks, Daisy. I'm . . . I'm proud to be your daughter, too.’

  Daisy was at the landing when AnnaLise
's voice stopped her. ‘Mommy?’

  ‘Yes, sweetie?’

  ‘You mind if I stay awhile in Sutherton? I mean, beyond the end of the month?’

  ‘Of course not. You just stay as long as you like.’

  Daisy continued up the steps. Maybe she would sleep tonight, after all.

  Discover Sandra Balzo

  Maggy Thorsen Mysteries

  Uncommon Grounds

  Grounds for Murder

  Bean There, Done That

  Brewed, Crude and Tattooed

  From the Grounds Up

  A Cup of Jo

  Triple Shot

  Murder on the Orient Express

  Main Street Mysteries

  Running on Empty

  Dead Ends

  Hit and Run

  About the Author

  Sandra Balzo is an award-winning author of crime fiction, including eleven books in two different mystery series from Severn House--the Wisconsin-based Maggy Thorsen Mysteries and Main Street Murders, set in the High Country of North Carolina and featuring journalist AnnaLise Griggs.

  Film rights for the Maggy Thorsen Coffeehouse Mysteries have been optioned toward development for television or film. Garnering starred reviews from Kirkus and Booklist, Balzo's novels are recommended to readers of Janet Evanovich, Charlaine Harris, Harlan Coben, Joan Hess and Margaret Maron.

  Find Sandy online at www.SandraBalzo.com, Pinterest (http://pinterest.com/sandrabalzo), Facebook (Sandra Balzo Mysteries) and Twitter (@SandraBalzo).

  www.sandrabalzo.com

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Table of Contents

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-one

  Twenty-two

  Twenty-three

  Twenty-four

  Twenty-five