Running on Empty (29 page)

When she entered the municipal building, the buxom strawberry blonde at the desk was
a stranger.

'Hello, I'm AnnaLise Griggs. Is Melba Lee still working here?'

'Melba retired two years ago,' the blonde said. She stuck out her hand. 'I'm Judi,
with an "i".'

'Good to meet you, Judi. Is Mayor Bradenham available?'

'Bobby sure is here, but Chief Chuck just went in with him. You mind waiting a sec?'
She handed AnnaLise a 'visitor' pass, also something new.

AnnaLise alligator-clipped it to her blouse and sat down with a magazine.

One
Us
and two
People
later, AnnaLise was still waiting. She checked her watch. Nearly one. The six thirty
Coffee Time cake was seeming like fuel taken on an awfully long time ago. She got
up to make sure Judi hadn't forgotten her, a chronic fear of AnnaLise's since the
time she waited an hour in the exam room for her doctor, only to find everyone gone
and the lights out when she'd finally emerged in her blue paper robe to check.

A chronic fear, not a cute one.

As AnnaLise approached the desk, the door to the office beyond opened and Chuck stalked
out. AnnaLise raised her hand in greeting, but the chief of police barely nodded and
kept on walking.

'Maybe this isn't the best time,' AnnaLise started to say to Judi.

Before the woman could answer, Bobby stuck his head around the door frame.

'AnnaLise? Did you want to see me?' If Chuck looked frustrated, Bobby looked defeated.

'Only if you have time,' AnnaLise said. 'I don't want to―'

'No, no,' Bobby said, sputtering and passing his hand over his face like he'd just
surfaced from a deep dive. 'Come on in.' Bobby stepped aside to let her pass.

Judi threw her a 'good luck' look and AnnaLise preceded Bobby into his office.

'You remodeled,' she said, kind of missing the former dark wood and slight tang of
mildew.

Bobby plopped himself into the chair behind his desk, elbows now on the blotter with
eyes fixed there, too, but seemingly seeing nothing.

Then he looked up. 'What?'

'The renovations?'

'Oh, yeah. A year ago, give or take.'

'Bobby, what's wrong?' AnnaLise said softly. Whatever had just happened with Chuck,
she didn't want to add to it now with questions about Dickens Hart.

'Wrong?' Bobby raised his eyes ceiling-ward and AnnaLise thought she saw the glitter
of... tears? 'Let's see: for starters, Dickens Hart is my father and our chief thinks
I might've tried to kill him for his money.'

Well, apparently that cat had fully wormed its way out of the proverbial bag. 'So,
you didn't know?'

'Absolutely not.' Bobby's eyes narrowed. 'Why? Did you?'

AnnaLise tried to answer honestly. 'I heard a couple of rumors, but only over the
past few days I've been back in Sutherton. Do you think it's true?'

'I guess the biological father should know, right?'

'Not as surely as the biological mother. I take it you haven't talked with her?'

'I started to call Ma as soon as Chuck left the office, but then decided this wasn't
exactly a conversation appropriate for telephone. Besides, she's having people over
for tea.'

Yeah, right. Wouldn't want to distract Mum from logistical preparations with pesky
questions like, 'Have you lied to me all my life?'

AnnaLise cleared her throat.

Bobby held up his hands. 'I know how stupid that sounds, believe me.'

'Well, stupid or not, it's probably better that you take some time to think before
you confront Ema. What
had
she told you about your dad?'

'Pretty much what I said to you or anybody else who's ever asked. I practically had
it memorized. Quote: "Your father was driving and another car crossed the center line
and hit us straight on. I woke up four days later in the hospital with this — " she'd
point at the scar on her temple — "and they told me your father was dead and already
buried. Before I could start crying, they brought you in. So tiny, but miraculously
without a scratch thanks to that infant seat. My miracle baby." Unquote.'

The mayor picked up a pen, then stared it down, seemingly at a loss for why he had
it in his hand. 'Every time, exactly the same. Words, cadence, expressions on her
face. I should have known it was a lie. Carefully rehearsed and perfectly repeated,
but a lie nonetheless.' He slammed the pen back onto his desktop. 'I'll bet by now,
even
she believes it.'

'Maybe Ema didn't want you to be hurt,' AnnaLise said. 'You know, the gossip and all.
Now, granted, it doesn't matter. But back then?'

'The person she didn't want hurt was herself. Mrs. Bradenham. Probably even made up
the name, or stole it from a next-door neighbor or some poor, pious shmuck who died
in church. But no matter, Ma comes back pure as the driven snow — brave widow, single
mother. Her reputation intact, she gets a big house as a bonus. Hart, he gets to keep
his lifestyle. The even bigger money, the perpetual rotation of broads.

'But me?' Bobby looked up. 'What did I get?'

A pretty damned nice life to date, though AnnaLise had no intention of saying that.
Bobby hadn't been judgmental during her emotional meltdown on Labor Day. The least
she could do now was to give her friend equally unconditional love and support.

But again, Bobby seemed to read her mind. 'I know, Annie. I know I didn't exactly
suffer. I lived in a nice house, went to a good school, had great — ' he gestured
to her — 'friends. Thing is — ' his hand dropped — 'my entire life is built on a lie.'

'Not
your
life, Bobby. Hers.' AnnaLise came around the desk and leaned down to hug him, her
shoulder still remarkably recovered. 'Everything about you is genuine and good.'

She tapped him on the forehead. 'Especially your taste in friends.'

The mayor mustered a smile. Then a shadow crossed his features. 'I didn't even tell
you the worst. Rance Smoaks' shooting wasn't an accident.'

'So I heard,' AnnaLise said, settling on the edge of Bobby's mayoral desk. 'And apparently
with the same gun used on...' The slightest pause. 'Dickens Hart.'

'Whatever you do,' Bobby said. 'Don't start calling him my father.'

'Got it,' AnnaLise promised. 'So, Chuck thinks you shot Hart?'

'I'm the only one who benefits from his death.'

'What about his business partner — Sabatino?'

'Apparently their agreement stipulates that Hart's interest goes to any heirs, not
the surviving partner.'

'And the only heir is you,' AnnaLise said.

'You got it.' Bobby was looking defeated.

'So does that mean you're supposed to have killed Rance Smoaks, too?'

'What the chief thinks and what he says are two different things. Chuck can be surprisingly
wily.'

As AnnaLise had suspected when the chief 'nodded off' at Sheree's inn. 'So what is
Chuck
saying
, at least?'

'First off, that he thought I had a right to know about Hart.'

'Which you do.'

'Agreed. But then he casually mentioned the will, in which Hart acknowledges me as
his son and then leaves everything to... me.'

Even after all the gossipy speculation, AnnaLise was stunned. She couldn't imagine
how Bobby must have felt at hearing those same words. 'Chuck probably wanted to see
if you'd show surprise.'

'Well, I did. And he sure should've seen that.'

'Which is a positive for you on the motive front,' AnnaLise said, trying to be reassuring.
'What happened next?'

'Chuck did one of those pauses at the door — you know, a Lieutenant Columbo-like afterthought?
Then he said, "Oh, by the way, both Rance Smoaks and Dickens Hart were shot by the
same firearm. Quite the coincidence, eh?"'

'Again, looking for your reaction.'

'And again, I gave it to him. I was shocked.'

'Did Chuck say anything else?' The two men had certainly been together in the mayor's
office long enough.

Bobby closed his eyes, then seeming to reach a decision, opened them. 'Only that he
knew Kathleen Smoaks and I had been having an active affair for the better part of
the last five years.'

AnnaLise felt her own eyes go round. 'And what did you say to that?'

'What do you think?' Bobby picked up the receiver of his desk phone. 'I told friend
Chuck, Chief of Police Greystone, to get the fuck out of my office so I could call
my lawyer. And...' Tone softening. 'I'd appreciate your doing the same without the
accompanying obscenity.'

AnnaLise had tried to say the right things before leaving Bobby Bradenham's office,
but that usually requires knowing what those things are.

And, quite frankly, she was at a loss.

The evidence against Bobby might be circumstantial, but AnnaLise had seen prosecutors
in Wisconsin build ironclad cases from less. The fact he was Sutherton's mayor might
be all the more reason somebody would delight in — or benefit from — toppling him.

For that matter, all the more reason the whole shebang should be turned over to at
least the county authorities, if not the state of North Carolina. Chuck, wily police
chief or not, shouldn't be investigating a homicide in which his boss was a prime
— hell, the
primary
— suspect.

AnnaLise found a parking spot on Main Street next to Tucker Stanton's jeep and right
around the corner from her home. The majority of the summer folk — especially those
with kids who needed to start school elsewhere — had already left. Most of the rest
would head out sometime this month, leaving October largely to day-trippers or weekenders,
coming to marvel at Sutherton's foliage turning colors on the trees.

As AnnaLise exited the car with Ichiro Katou's 'genome' file folder and personal letters,
she could almost feel the town putting its collective feet up to relax until ski-season
arrived — snow willing — in late November. Mama's was relatively busy, but there were
no lines of people waiting to pay or be seated. It seemed as though everybody was
hanging out, catching up, moving on.

Passing Torch, AnnaLise again fought the impulse to drop in. A bad idea on two fronts.
First, she'd gotten the distinct impression that Tucker preferred to get far away
from the 'intrepid reporter's investigation', at least until he could walk without
whimpering.

Second, she really wanted to discuss Bobby Bradenham's situation, but doing so with
Tucker, a newcomer by Sutherton's let's-see-your-birth-certificate-and-your-daddy's-too
standards, would feel like a betrayal of her old friend's confidence.

Talking to Daisy, on the other hand, wouldn't count. Family exemption and all. But,
when AnnaLise unlocked the door, there was no sign of her mother.

'Hello?' she called out, dropping the folder and letters on the kitchen table.

AnnaLise went to the stairs and tried again. Still no answer. She eyed the gun cabinet
on the landing. Daisy had always kept the key for it in her bedroom dresser. Now would
be a perfect time to make sure all the guns were there.

Which begged the question, what if they weren't?

Prosecutor Ben Rosewood, a Gulf War vet, had once told AnnaLise he never asked any
witness a question to which he didn't already know the answer. 'It's a minefield,'
he'd said, 'and once the device blows up, you can't replant it. Only thing left is
trying to deal with the aftermath.'

Words. The cat that won't go back into the bag. At least not without leaving you bloodied.

A 'bing' from the laptop she'd left on the end table by the couch gave her a momentary
reprieve. 'Chicken,' she said to herself, crossing to the computer and tapping a key
to bring up the screen.

One new message from her editor at the newspaper: 'I'm so sorry to hear about your
mom. Stay for whatever you need to do, and I'll notify Human Resources we won't be
seeing you before the end of the month. You and I can revisit your mother's situation
then and go from there. Just keep me informed. All the best, Jan.'

Bosses didn't come any better. AnnaLise hoped she really would be back working for
her by October 1.

She typed a quick thank-you reply. As AnnaLise hit 'send', a second message popped
up, also from Jan: 'Forgot. Ben Rosewood has been calling. Are you working on a story
I need to reassign or maybe delay?'