Running on Empty (12 page)

Maybe the elder Stanton would be at Torch, AnnaLise thought as she pedaled away from
Hart's Landing. Dr. Jackson Stanton was an owner, after all, and word had it that
father and son had grown very close since the physician's wife — and Tucker's mother
— had died.

Theresa 'Terry' Stanton had been the one who insisted when Tucker was still a baby
that her husband take the month of August off from his Miami practice each year to
enjoy the mountains of western North Carolina. The cool, crisp weather, the many lakes
and streams and, perhaps, most of all, the serenity of just doing nothing.

'That man would cut people open twenty-four/seven if I let him,' Theresa had once
famously said.

That's why, Daisy had told AnnaLise by phone, the male Stantons' arrival in Sutherton
six weeks after Theresa's death last year was widely assumed to be father and son's
last visit. Instead, that August turned out to be the first month of their permanent
residency and Tucker's enrolling at The University of the Mountain.

And, unfortunately, his expulsion before the semester's end. One would think it must
have stung his father, just named Chief of Medicine for the affiliated University
Hospital. But all Jackson said was, 'Terry always maintained Tucker was just like
me,' a bemused smile trailing the doctor's remark.

Then he rented Daisy Griggs' storefront for his son to start a new business.

It seemed to be working out splendidly so far for both Tucker
and
Daisy, AnnaLise had to admit as she passed back under the Bradenham Bridge. Who knows,
maybe Daisy could even go back to work. Serve coffee and cocktails, if not brew and
mix same, respectively. Then beat on bongos during band breaks.

The thought made AnnaLise smile. Maybe the reason Dr. Stanton hadn't returned her
call yesterday was that he just wasn't that concerned about Daisy. After all, the
man undoubtedly had other patients who were in much more dire straits.

Up and over the tree root, around the bend.

AnnaLise skidded to a stop.

In front of her in the combined north boat launch/post office parking lot was a tangle
of emergency vehicles, bubble lights revolving.

Another drowning? Two in two days would be a lot even for Main Street. AnnaLise just
hoped this one wasn't aided by a bullet. That sort of thing could put a real dent
in any town's tourism.

Chief Chuck Greystone was talking to a tall, slender African-American man.

Dr. Stanton. Seek and ye shall find, only it appeared that AnnaLise would need to
take a number if she wanted a chance to speak with him. Even then, pressing for an
appointment might be bad form under the circumstances. Whatever they were.

The crunch of tires on gravel drew AnnaLise's attention as a panel van pulled in.
She recognized the county's longtime medical examiner at the wheel.

Chuck moved toward the newcomer's vehicle as Dr. Stanton turned and caught sight of
AnnaLise.

She toed down the kickstand on her bike, making sure it was set on asphalt instead
of the soft earth, and went to meet him. Still in his early forties, the widower had
aged noticeably in the five years since AnnaLise last saw him, his graying hair now
more salt than pepper.

AnnaLise had sent a note when his wife died, so she decided against offering her condolences
again.

'It's good to see you, Doc,' AnnaLise said instead. 'And I got a tour of Torch yesterday.
You and Tucker have done a wonderful job with it.'

'Hey, it's all Tucker,' the doctor said. 'I've been tied up with a special project
at the hospital, so I hope you'll accept my apologies for not getting back to you
yesterday. I had my hand on the phone to call you this morning and then... well, this.'
He pointed toward the pier where AnnaLise could now see the mailboat docked.

'Oh, goodness,' she said, Daisy forgotten for the moment. 'Was there an accident with
the boat? I saw Nicole Goldstein on it earlier. Is she all right?'

'Nicole's fine,' Dr. Stanton said, pointing to where the college student seemed to
be holding court amongst a gaggle of tourists wearing shorts and bearing digital cameras.
'It's Bob Esmond who's badly shook up.'

AnnaLise followed his hand to see Cap'n Bob sitting on the rear bumper of the EMTs'
truck. He was holding a clear mask over his mouth and nose — oxygen, presumably —
but was upright.

'Heart attack?' AnnaLise guessed. Esmond had to be pushing eighty.

'No, just shock. It's hard to believe, given Main Street's reputation for... misadventure,
but he's never snagged a body before.'

So AnnaLise had been correct in her prediction when she pulled up. Not that it was
all that hard in Sutherton. Just imagine the worst and nobody would bet against you.

'Quite the Labor Day this year,' AnnaLise said.

'Since most lake accidents are alcohol-related, it's not unusual to see a peak over
a long weekend.'

'So this one involves drinking, too?' AnnaLise was thinking about Rance Smoaks.

'That, I don't know. I was called just because Bob's been a patient of mine. Cause
of death, thankfully, is the medical examiner's bailiwick.' He shook his head. 'It's
always harder, though, when it's someone you know.'

A chill crept up AnnaLise's spine. 'The floater is a local?'

Dr. Stanton looked taken aback at the term 'floater'.

'Sorry,' the reporter said, flushing. 'I cover the police beat for my newspaper back
in Wisconsin. The... term is part of their vernacular.' And Mama's, as well — not
that AnnaLise would mention that.

'Understood,' Dr. Stanton said. 'We use terms in medicine that would sound pretty
callous to lay people, as well.'

He nodded toward emergency personnel hefting a human-sized tarpaulin up to the deck
surface. 'But to answer your question, the victim is relatively new to town.'

'How new?'

'Just a few weeks. You wouldn't know him.'

AnnaLise was getting a bad feeling about this.

Stanton said, 'The only reason I do—'

'Is that he's renting an apartment from you,' AnnaLise finished for the doctor as
they watched Ichiro Katou's body sling being gently laid onto a gurney.

'I'm so sorry,' said AnnaLise.

Knowing that Bobby would be at his mother's house by now, she'd biked back to Bradenham
where she found both of them.

As she broke the news, the rays of a noon sun shimmered on the choppy surface of Lake
Sutherton, almost as though the small waves were 'dancing' in strobe lights.

'This seems very odd.' Mrs. B was sitting on the oversized chaise longue where AnnaLise
had found her the first time that day. Bobby, at AnnaLise's request, had taken a seat
next to his mother. 'Mr. Katou — despite his use of that cane — seemed otherwise a
healthy young man. How did he drown?'

Mrs. B had taken the news in her stride, in keeping with both her general attitude
toward life and her specific attitude toward Katou. Lips closed in a straight line,
projecting neither sympathy nor satisfaction.

Bobby, on the other hand, seemed devastated. 'How could it have happened? And when?
Geez, somebody has to notify his family. He told me his grandfather died of cancer
earlier this year, but that's all I know.'

'Easy, my dear.' His mother patted his hand. 'I know Mr. Katou and you were friends,
but you cannot be expected to—'

'If not me, then who?' He yanked his hand out from under hers. 'I don't know if Ichiro
had any other ties in this country. He told me it was his first trip to the US.'

Yet somehow, AnnaLise thought, he ended up in Sutherton. A nice small town, yes, but
she couldn't fathom it as the debut destination for most foreign tourists.

'I didn't see him at Sal's last night,' AnnaLise said. 'Did he truly plan on coming
or did you tell Sheree that to...?'

'Get her off my back?' Bobby shook his head. 'No. Ichiro said he'd come later, after
you and I had a chance to catch up.'

'Ohh,' AnnaLise said, feeling badly, 'I'm sorry. He certainly could have joined us.'

'I told him that, but he said — ' Bobby cracked a grin for the first time since AnnaLise
had broken the news — 'that my "occupation" was good, because he had to something
else to do.'

Like what, AnnaLise wondered. Taking a swim? Going for a boat ride? Hiking the lake
trail? At that time of night, who knew?

'Could you tell...' Bobby hesitated. 'I mean, do they know how long he'd been in the
water?'

'I didn't really see... anything.' Talk about your uncomfortable conversation. As
a reporter, AnnaLise was used to asking the hard questions. She certainly should be
able to do a better job of answering them.

Regroup, girl. Bobby deserved to know as much as you do. Or, admittedly in this case,
as little. 'I was in the parking lot when they pulled the body... pulled Ichiro from
the water, so I couldn't really see anything beyond stick figures. I did talk to Nicole,
who was today's runner on the boat. She saw something in the water as they approached
the north launch after making their rounds with newspapers and alerted Cap'n Bob.'

The reporter was editing herself, leaving out the fact that the body had apparently
been dragged aways by some extrusion from the hull of the mailboat. 'Cap'n Bob started
having heart palpitations, literally, so Nicole sat him down, told the tourists to
stay put and jumped off to get help.'

'Nicole. The Goldstein girl, correct?' Mrs. B said. 'Very impressive composure for
someone so young. Such a pity she has no aspirations beyond the University of the
Mountain.'

Bobby, who hadn't had the grades to get into U of M, and AnnaLise, who hadn't had
the money, just looked at her.

Mrs. B spread her hands. 'What?'

AnnaLise turned back to Bobby. 'Dr. Stanton was there, but only to treat Cap'n Bob.
The medical examiner was arriving and Chuck needed to talk to him, so I thought the
only way I could help was to ride the short distance back here and let you know what'd
happened.'

'And very considerate of you, Little One,' Mrs. B said. 'Especially given that we
were holding lunch.'

Bobby appeared too upset to respond to his mother's insensitivity. Or maybe he'd just
gotten used to it. 'I suppose the police will be able to track down Ichiro's family
from his passport.'

'Just hope he did not carry it with him,' Mrs. B said.

This time AnnaLise ignored her. 'I'm sure there'll be papers in his apartment, especially
since he was planning to stay and open a business here. Besides, what about the ancestry
project you told us about?'

'Oh, of course,' Bobby said. 'His DNA will be on file and the results he's received
should have a home address for him.'

'DNA,' Mrs. B said, shaking her head. 'AnnaLise's mother was telling me about that.
An invasion of privacy, in my opinion.'

'It's entirely voluntary,' AnnaLise pointed out. 'Your DNA profile becomes part of
a database, where it can be compared and contrasted with others in the future.'

'So long-lost relatives can appear on your doorstep,' said Mrs. B. 'Feet planted,
but
with their hands out.'

'Except maybe to give, not to receive,' AnnaLise said. 'Look at Kathleen.'

Mrs. B tick-tocked her head, left-right-left. 'Kathleen whom?'

AnnaLise didn't mention it should be 'who', not 'whom'. Unless, of course, you changed
the syntax so it became 'to whom are you referring?' Or, better yet, 'to which Kathleen...'

'Don't pretend you don't remember her, Ma,' Bobby blurted irritably. 'She practically
lived here during high school.'

'Of course. The Tullifinny girl,' Mrs. B said tightly. 'Given she rejected you, I
thought you might not want to be reminded.'

'I'm not the one who likes to bury the past.'

'I
buried
your father, Bobby, and if I prefer not to talk about what I have lost—'

'Fine, fine,' Bobby said, holding up his hands. 'Don't.'

Mother and son glared at each other.

AnnaLise cleared her throat. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to reopen old wounds.'

'Not at all dear. Now I believe you were talking about Kathleen — ' she threw a look
at Bobby — 'and someone giving, not receiving?'

'Yes,' AnnaLise said uncomfortably. 'And unexpected relatives. Apparently Rance Smoaks's
mother left him a fair amount of money.'