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Authors: Sandra Balzo

Hit and Run (21 page)

BOOK: Hit and Run
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‘You weren't a fan of
When Harry Met Sally
either?'

‘I bailed. It was kind of fun seeing Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal when they were young, but …' Lacey shrugged.

‘I take it you're a little bored?'

‘A
lot
bored,' the girl admitted.

AnnaLise smiled. ‘I have my iPad with me. There are some books loaded on it, and a bunch of apps. Would you like to borrow it?'

Lacey's face lit up like a firecracker. ‘That would be awesome. Do you have any mysteries?'

‘I do, in fact,' the journalist said, pleased the girl chose ebooks over video games. ‘Let me go grab it now.'

AnnaLise retrieved the iPad from the desk in her bedroom. When she came back, Lacey was waiting at the door, hands bobbing eagerly. ‘Thank you
so
much.'

‘Have you used one of these before?'

Lacey shook her head, looking a little embarrassed.

‘Not to worry, there's nothing you can do that I can't undo,' AnnaLise said, handing the tablet over. ‘Just play around with it.'

‘Ohmigod, thank you
so
much,' Lacey Capri said again, clutching the iPad to her heart. ‘I'll return it to you tomorrow, first thing.'

‘Any time before you leave is fine,' AnnaLise said. And then, after the door closed, added in a whisper, ‘Whenever that is for any of us.'

Uncertain whether she had time to continue her snooping under the guise of turning down beds, AnnaLise slipped over to the gangway to look down. Nobody in the Lake Room and most of the noise still seemed to be coming from the ever – if not universally – popular media room.

A door opened below and AnnaLise crossed to the other side of the gangway to peer down into the front foyer. Boozer Bacchus shut the front door behind him and, locking the deadbolt, turned left into the dining room.

AnnaLise padded down the steps and found him in the kitchen. ‘Hey, Boozer.'

Bacchus' head had been in the refrigerator and now he yanked it out, startled. ‘You scared the daylights out of me, AnnaLise.'

‘Sorry. I was upstairs and saw you come in. I wanted to ask how you were. We haven't really had a chance to talk since … well, since we found Dickens.'

If AnnaLise felt weary, Bacchus looked sucked utterly dry of energy. ‘I'd be lying if I said it hasn't been a tough day.'

AnnaLise pulled out a chair. ‘Why don't you sit down and I'll heat up some leftovers.'

He let out a sigh. ‘That would be mighty nice. Thank you.'

Collapsing into the seat, he said, ‘I want to apologize for my state yesterday. And this morning.'

AnnaLise turned with a foil-wrapped turkey leg in her hand. ‘Your state?'

‘My drunken state.' His head had been down, but now he lifted it and met her eyes. ‘I gave up the bottle a lot of years ago, knowing it was always poison for the men in my family. But these last few weeks have been taxing, and …'

AnnaLise took out white turkey meat sliced off the breast, added the leg and some thigh meat to it and brought the platter to the table. ‘Want dressing and mashed potatoes?'

‘Maybe just the dressing, cold, and some cranberries and bread. I'll make me a sandwich.'

‘A turkey, dressing and cranberry sandwich,' AnnaLise said, bringing the components. ‘One of my favorites. Mayonnaise?'

‘Don't mind if I do.' Bacchus accepted it from her and slipped a couple of slices of bread from the loaf. ‘Can I make you one?'

‘Don't mind if
you
do.' AnnaLise smiled warmly and snagged another plate. ‘Probably the last kind of meal I need this late, but it sounds good.'

‘A turkey's not the only thing that needs stuffing sometimes,' Bacchus said.

‘You told me the last few weeks have been tough,' AnnaLise said. ‘And I'm guessing that's because of all the preparations for this weekend.'

‘It wasn't all that bad and the boss did all he could. He even hired those young people from the university to play valet, so I wouldn't have to do all the heavy lifting. Very kind of him, I thought.'

Not to mention that a fleet of uniformed valets and waiters and waitresses were more impressive than one aging veteran meeting guests. ‘Are the kids still here somewhere, Boozer? I haven't seen anybody but Nicole Goldstein since the valets helped clean up the broken glass in the Lake Room.'

Boozer snapped his fingers. ‘I knew I was forgetting something. The insurance company. They'll likely need to send somebody out before they authorize a repair this size.'

‘It's Thanksgiving,' AnnaLise reminded him. ‘You wouldn't have reached anybody anyway.'

‘That's true now, isn't it? So much has happened today, it feels more like a week.' He shook his head. ‘Not what you were asking, though?'

She had to think for a moment. ‘Oh, about the kids from the college. Whether they're still around?'

‘Nah, that was a one-day hire. That way they could all travel home to their own families for the holiday itself.'

Made sense. Nicole was probably the only full-time local amongst the group. ‘Still, I hate that so much fell on you. I should have taken over more.'

‘Oh, no. No, that was just fine as it 'twas. It's more,' Bacchus looked at his fingers, ‘my pa's been real bad.'

‘Daisy said you'd moved him here to be close by?'

‘I did. But he's been failing steadily ever since.'

‘I'm so sorry. How old is your dad, Boozer?'

‘Ninety-three, but he's been fighting the cancer now for more than two years.'

‘What type?' AnnaLise's earliest memories were of a hospital waiting room, while Timothy Griggs – the man she'd always think of as ‘Daddy' – was taken inch-by-inch by his cancer in a hospital room she never entered.

‘Esophageal, they say most likely from his smoking. And drinking. One more reason I should know better.'

‘I'm sorry,' AnnaLise said again, taking the bread away from him and spreading mayonnaise on a slice. Then she piled on turkey, a spoonful of cold dressing and, finally, a slice of jellied cranberry sauce before adding another piece of bread and cutting the sandwich diagonally. She slid the plate over.

Bacchus hefted his triangle, then nodded for her to sit and take the other. ‘If we're still hungry, I can make another fresh when we finish off this one here.'

‘Good idea,' AnnaLise said, helping herself.

Bacchus took a bite, chewing, swallowing and wiping his mouth before he continued. ‘My pa, he can't do this anymore.'

‘Eat, you mean?'

Bacchus nodded. ‘Started out having some trouble swallowing, but we barely took note of it. “Just getting old,” he said.'

‘But it was the cancer.'

‘Problem is, most people don't even know they have this esophageal kind until it's too late. Every day seems like his last, but the next one I go and there he is, suffering bad but hanging on.'

Bacchus picked up his half-sandwich only to put it down again. ‘My dad was a veterinarian for years – no,
decades
. Couldn't stand to see an animal suffer. He'd say to people – the owners, mainly – “You'll know when it's time, when she's gone away inside and there's nothing left but a shell.” Well, my pa's brain's been gone for a long, long time.'

AnnaLise put her hand on his. ‘And now … well, I know how close you were to Dickens.'

Bacchus' eyes welled up. ‘When you and me went in there this morning, I … I couldn't believe it. The man who should be taken is still here, and the lieutenant, he, he—'

The kitchen's overhead light went off.

‘Hello,' AnnaLise called, as Lacey had earlier.

‘Oops.' Daisy's voice came from the doorway. ‘I didn't know anybody was in here.'

The light went back on and she peered at the table. ‘Is that a turkey, dressing and cranberry sandwich?'

‘It is,' Boozer said, his face lighting up. ‘Would you like me to make you one?'

‘Well, it
is
awfully late,' Daisy said, without much conviction behind the words.

AnnaLise stood up and swept a hand, inviting her mother to take her place. ‘If your movie's over, Daisy, sit down and keep Boozer company. I—'

But her mother had already appropriated her chair, and Boozer Bacchus, tired as he had been, seemed happy to be constructing a meal for her.

Neither of them seemed to hear AnnaLise say good night.

TWENTY-ONE

A
nnaLise Griggs took coffee to Officer Fearon before going to bed and, again, the next morning.

‘How long is your shift?' she asked, setting the cup and saucer on the end table she'd brought into the hallway outside the master suite the night before.

‘Long as I'm needed, ma'am. The night shift is my usual, so I'm not bothered by the hours.'

AnnaLise admired Fearon's dedication as well as, presumably, his bladder control. ‘I'll bring you breakfast when it's ready. Do you know when Coy and Charity will be back?'

‘Mid-morning, I'd guess,' Fearon said. ‘They're waiting for the preliminary autopsy results.'

‘Today already? I'm surprised they were able to do it so quickly on a holiday weekend.'

‘Seems like the pathologist doesn't get many dinner invitations.' The officer said it straight-faced.

‘Well, that's too bad,' AnnaLise said, placing a small cream pitcher next to the cup. ‘Probably carves a heck of a turkey.'

Fearon cracked a smile. ‘I'd allow that's likely true, ma'am.'

Leaving the officer to his coffee, AnnaLise entered the kitchen to find Phyllis Balisteri scrambling eggs and young Nicole Goldstein making more coffee.

‘I smell bacon. But,' AnnaLise did a quick three-sixty scan. ‘Where is it?'

‘In there.' Nicole indicated the wall oven. ‘Mama just laid a whole pound out on a couple of sheet pans and we're baking it at four hundred degrees for ten minutes.'

‘Give or take,' Phyllis said, nodding. ‘We'll check it then and maybe pull some out for the wiggly crowd and leave the rest for the crispy critters.'

‘Very slick,' said AnnaLise, looking around.

‘Old caterer's trick.'

‘Where's Daisy?'

Phyllis turned. ‘As for your mother, I was hoping maybe you might know where she took to bed last night.'

Uh-oh. AnnaLise glanced toward Nicole's back. ‘I … umm, take it she didn't sleep in your shared room last night?'

‘She did not,' said Phyllis. ‘And now I'm thinking you and her didn't have a mother-daughter sleepover neither.'

Nicole seemed
very
focused on her coffee-making.

AnnaLise didn't quite know what to say – or how to feel. If Boozer Bacchus and Daisy had a ‘sleepover,' more power to her. Or, AnnaLise figured that's the way she
should
feel. As it was, she was … well, as Lacey Capri would probably say, ‘kind of weirded out.'

‘Mama, I saw her late last night.' At least that part was truthful. As for the rest, ‘Daisy said she was going to run home for something. She probably stayed there. You know, to sleep in her own bed?'

Phyllis set down the fork she was using to abuse the eggs and put her hands on her hips. ‘Now what are you talking about, AnnieLeez? We all came here together, the three of us. You saying she just drove herself home last night, out of the blue?'

‘Well, I don't know, but—'

‘Daisy's car is here,' Nicole said, opening the oven to check the bacon. ‘I saw it when I took the garbage out this morning.'

‘Well, that's …
good
,' AnnaLise improvised. ‘It means she's back.'

Phyllis didn't seem to be buying it, but her attention was drawn to Nicole and the bacon. ‘That needs another minute or two, even the wiggly pieces. Close that door and you watch it, you hear?'

‘Yes, ma'am.' Nicole obeyed.

‘Morning!' Daisy danced – yes, danced – into the kitchen.

Or at least that was the way AnnaLise interpreted it. Her mother did have sex last night. And with a very nice man, Boozer Bacchus. Not, perhaps, the most fortunate choice of names, but … Oh, what the hell. AnnaLise knew her problem wasn't with Boozer or his name. It was with her mother having sex with
any
body. Probably wearing – God, so much worse,
not
wearing – her lacy lingerie.

AnnaLise shivered.

‘I hope you're not catching a cold, dear.' Daisy gave her a kiss on the cheek.

‘No, I'm … I'm just ducky. I was telling Mama,' AnnaLise jerked her head toward Phyllis, who was spooning eggs out of the pan. Their joint daughter tried to send ‘go-along-with-me' signals with her eyes, ‘that you ran home last night and probably slept there. Returning here very early since Nicole,' she slewed her eyes meaningful toward the bacon-watcher's back, ‘saw your car here this morning.'

‘Oh, for God's sake. You'd put fables to shame.' Daisy got a cup out of the cabinet and poured herself some freshly brewed coffee. ‘I spent the night – quite enjoyably, I might add – in Boozer's room here above the garage.'

AnnaLise's mouth dropped open and both Phyllis and Nicole whirled toward Daisy; Mama with a spoon of eggs in her hand, and Nicole holding the pan she'd just removed from the oven.

‘Oh,' Phyllis said. Then: ‘Well, next time let me know. I was worried.'

Nicole beamed and held out the sheet pan. ‘Bacon?'

Fortified with caffeine, AnnaLise helped Phyllis and Nicole set out a buffet on the sideboard in the dining room. In the kitchen her mother downed a breakfast more suited to a burly farmhand than a five-foot-nothing woman.

It was just past 8 a.m. and none of the other guests were down yet. Probably not surprising, given the holiday weekend and the fact most of them were still up and probably ‘cavorting' after she'd gone to bed.

BOOK: Hit and Run
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