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  'I don't... recycling?'

  'Your "helper" is taking his sidewalk-kill friend back to the nest for a snack, kind of a cannibal kabob.'

  AnnaLise swallowed her 'eewww' and stomped both insects flat.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Monday, Sept. 6, 9:46 p.m.

  Yet another new message from Ben. He has to 'see' me, as soon as I return. Honestly, the man's next campaign slogan should be, 'I can have my wife, and meet you, too.' (As sanitized for general audiences, of course.)

  -AG

  Ants might eat their pals, but did they also lie to them?

  Because AnnaLise had. She'd told Chuck that she'd met Daisy at Torch by eleven on Saturday night. In truth, that's when AnnaLise got there. Only, she hadn't seen her mother until nearly midnight.

  Now it was Tuesday, the morning after Labor Day, and AnnaLise was standing in front of Torch once again, hoping to snag another 'what's-the-point' latte before taking Daisy to Dr. Stanton's office for her mother's nine o'clock appointment.

  The sign on Torch's door read: Open 7:30 a.m. AnnaLise checked her watch, recalculated to Eastern time and settled in for a three-minute wait.

  When she'd arrived on Saturday night, the first thing she'd done was find Tucker in the packed place to congratulate him. 'Looks like you have a hit on your hands.'

  All the tables were filled and Tucker's 'chanteuse' was onstage singing 'Some Enchanted Evening'.

  'She's wonderful,' AnnaLise said, spotting a few openings at the raised counters on three walls facing the talent. 'I'd never have recognized this place as our old deli.'

  'Your mom says the same thing.' Tucker gestured for AnnaLise to take one of the few, elevated stools. 'Can I get you something?'

  AnnaLise'd had enough to drink at Sal's, but felt obligated to order something. Which is the classic way hangover stories start. 'Do you have anything for after-dinner?'

  'Well, I have no personal knowledge of it, of course, being too young to drink and all,' he replied with an impish grin, 'but I'm told my bartender makes a mean espresso martini — calls it the Midnight Espresso.'

  And so, the die was cast. AnnaLise had just finished the sinful concoction, served in a glass rimmed with chocolate syrup and biscotti crumbs, when Daisy finally showed up.

  'Where have you been?' daughter to mother.

  'At our house, of course,' Daisy said. 'Did you think I would come here right from dinner? Who in the world goes to a nightclub at seven thirty?'

  'Me, apparently. But then my clubs, if Sal's can be described as such, close at eleven.' AnnaLise looked down at the sweet dregs in her glass. 'Can we go home?'

  'Don't be silly.' Daisy hiked herself up onto the next stool. 'I just got here.' She signaled for drinks and the rest evolved into, and remained, the already-reported blur.

  The sound of a latch turning and the heavy door pushed open. Back to current reality.

  'Morning,' greeted the barista who'd made AnnaLise's latte on Friday. 'Give me just a sec, and I'll be right with you.'

  'No hurry,' AnnaLise said, settling down at the counter where she and Daisy had sat. 'I'll have a latte when you're ready.'

  'Large decaf, non-fat, no-foam, and with a Splenda, right?'

  'Wow, great memory. But this time use the high-test, not the unleaded. I need all the boost I can get.'

  'High... test?'

  'Caffeine. All the cup will hold.'

  'You got it.'

  While the barista worked behind the espresso machine, AnnaLise tried to relax. Her jaw was aching from clenching her teeth, a sure sign of tension.

  Five days ago, AnnaLise had been getting ready to go to the courthouse, unaware — if not exactly blissfully so — of the telephone call she would get once there.

  Daisy was 'not right', Mama had said. That seemed the tip of the iceberg now. Could Chuck, or anyone else for that matter, honestly believe AnnaLise's mother would brain a sweet Japanese visitor, clean his cane of fingerprints, but not DNA-laden blood, and then absent-mindedly stick the murder weapon in her own garage?

  Ridiculous. But then, so was the incident at the blood drive.

  'Is there anything else I can get you?' The barista was beside her. AnnaLise hadn't even registered her approach.

  'Oh, I'm sorry,' AnnaLise said, looking at the latte. 'I meant to ask for a to-go cup.'

  'Not a problem. Are you heading home this morning?'

  Home. Define that, please. 'Not yet,' AnnaLise said. 'My mother has a doctor's appointment.'

  'Ahh.' The barista carefully poured the latte in a cardboard cup and capped it. 'How is Daisy doing?'

  It wasn't the question but the tone that made AnnaLise look up sharply, credit card in hand. 'Fine. Why do you ask?'

  The woman flushed. 'No reason.'

  AnnaLise put out her hand as the woman turned away. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, but I need to know. Have you noticed Daisy being odd, or... unwell?'

  'Just...' The door opened and the barista looked up to see who had come in behind AnnaLise before she answered. 'Just not acting like herself.'

  'Morning,' Tucker Stanton's voice said. 'Who are we talking about?'

  AnnaLise turned, wondering why she hadn't thought to speak to him about her mother. After all, besides Mama's, Torch was where the subject of concern had been spending most of her time. 'Good morning, Tucker. We're talking about Daisy.'

  The barista, caught by her boss talking about a customer, squirmed. 'I was just saying AnnaLise's mother has seemed... a little under the weather once or twice.'

  'Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs is the way I would have put it,' Tucker said. 'But like my wonderful barista here says, just a couple times.'

  Well if that was his attitude, at least Tucker wasn't likely to discipline his employee for her more tactful characterization.

  'Did it last long?' AnnaLise picked up her latte and followed the younger Stanton to the stage.

  'Nope, just a flash.' Tucker began gathering sheet music from the music stand used on Saturday night. 'More like she was tripping, actually.'

  'My mother doesn't do drugs,' AnnaLise said.

  'Hey, I'm not saying they aren't prescription. Maybe she just needs her meds adjusted.'

  'Uh-unh,' AnnaLise said. 'No drugs, prescription or otherwise. Daisy doesn't even like to swallow an aspirin.'

  'Well, then I don't know.' Tucker said, raising the lid of the piano bench. 'Has she seen my dad?'

  'Appointment this morning,' AnnaLise said. 'I should have gotten her there sooner.'

  'Sooner? Didn't you just arrive Saturday?'

  'True, though it seems a lifetime ago.'

  'No kidding, huh?' Tucker had put the sheet music in the bench and now eased the lid down. 'Sutherton really outdid itself this weekend, crazy-wise. I hear Ichiro's bloody cane was found in your garage.'

  'You heard right,' AnnaLise said.

  Tucker read something from her expression. 'Hey, you're not afraid that Daisy...'

  'No, no. Of course not,' AnnaLise said, though that was precisely what she feared. 'She'd have no reason to hurt Ichiro.'

  Unless, of course, he reminded her of somebody else. Someone from the past she'd been slipping into of late. Someone...

  'You know,' Tucker said slowly. 'I honestly hadn't thought of it, but you and your mother must be suspects. At least, technically speaking.'

  AnnaLise gulped.

  He said, 'Has the chief talked to you?'

  'Well, yes,' said AnnaLise. 'But...'

  'You both have alibis?'

  'I do. And Daisy — well, I sort of told Chuck she was here.'

  'But she wasn't,' Tucker protested. The barista's head turned toward them and he lowered his voice. 'From what I hear, Ichiro died before midnight.'

  AnnaLise hadn't heard that, but it didn't surprise her. Something — or, more precisely, somebody — had kept the man from meeting Bobby at Sal's at ten p.m. How long before ten seemed anybody's guess.

  Tucker continued, 'And we both know tha
t Daisy didn't arrive until after the singer started her third set.'

  'Has Chuck asked you?'

  'No.'

  'So we don't have a problem, am I right?' AnnaLise raised her eyebrows at him.

  'Right.' Tucker studied AnnaLise's face. 'But just so we're straight, if Chuck puts the question, I'm going to have to tell him the truth.'

  'Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way.'

  And Chuck would ask eventually, AnnaLise knew. Especially if no other possibilities — or suspects — arose.

  'I know your dad owns the condo Ichiro rented,' AnnaLise said. 'Any chance you'd have a key?'

  'Do you think I'm going nuts?'

  They were en route to Dr. Stanton's office at University Hospital in AnnaLise's little convertible with the farting muffler.

  'No,' AnnaLise said, glancing quickly at her mother in the passenger seat. 'Do you?'

  'Honestly? I don't know.' Daisy was looking straight ahead. 'I do know that I'm scared.'

  'Don't...' AnnaLise changed her mind. If mother could be honest, then daughter needed to do the same. 'Let me start over. I'm scared, too.' She touched Daisy's shoulder. 'But we'll figure it out. Together, OK?'

  'Now you sound like Phyllis,' Daisy complained, though AnnaLise could hear a smile coming through her voice.

  'I know,' AnnaLise said, turning into the hospital's entrance. She bypassed the emergency and outpatient entrances and turned into the parking lot that serviced the professional building where Dr. Stanton's office was. 'And I'm right, just like Mama always is.'

  'Or thinks she is,' Daisy said.

  The smile was still there when they got out of the car, which AnnaLise took to be a good sign. 'You saw Dr. Stanton after the blood-drive accident, right? What did he do?'

  'A physical exam, first, then he wanted me to tell him what day it was, to count backwards from twenty. That kind of thing.'

  'And you could?'

  'I don't recall.'

  AnnaLise's mouth dropped open.

  'Oh, God,' Daisy said. 'I was kidding. I passed all his tests with flying colors.'

  Then why had Dr. Stanton, according to Mama, stated that Daisy 'wasn't right' in the head?

  AnnaLise had an opportunity to ask the horse's mouth that question while Daisy was having blood drawn in another room.

  'Your mother appeared disoriented when she and I spoke last week,' Dr. Stanton said from the other side of his office desk. 'Phyllis was there as well and she may have misinterpreted something I said.'

  AnnaLise felt an irrational sense of reprieve. Irrational, because she herself had seen disturbing signs in her mother. Reprieve, because human nature is what it is.

  She forced herself to press the issue. 'I've witnessed two episodes just this weekend, where my mother...' AnnaLise was searching for a word. 'Reverted?'

  Dr. Stanton's eyes narrowed. 'To?'

  'Her youth. The first, she acted like my dad was still alive. The second, she seemed to be just out of high school, though I'm less sure of that one.'

  'What do you mean?'

  AnnaLise shifted uncomfortably in the 'patient' chair. 'It was more her speech patterns and, well, she cried.'

  'Cried?' Dr. Stanton didn't understand, but AnnaLise lost the chance to explain when Daisy rejoined them.

  'Good, you're back.' Dr. Stanton waved her into the chair next to AnnaLise. 'So, let's talk about where we go from here.'

  He opened a folder on his desk. 'We've covered the physical exam and we should have the results of the blood work and other labs in a few days. If that all checks out, I'd suggest a neurologist.'

  AnnaLise blanched, but Daisy was nodding. 'I think that's a good idea. And maybe a psychiatrist or psychologist?'

  'I'd like to hear from the neurologist first.'

  AnnaLise, open-mouthed, was looking at her mother.

  'What?' Daisy said. 'You don't think I know how to research stuff on the Internet?'

  Dr. Stanton laughed and stood to shake hands with both of them. 'Recognizing the problem, along with wanting to address it, constitutes a very good start.'

  'Thanks for your time, doctor,' AnnaLise said. 'I'm sure you have a long day ahead of you.'

  'No, though not for any pleasant reason,' Jackson Stanton said, holding the door to the waiting room open for them to pass through. 'I'm leaving at noon to attend Rance Smoaks's funeral.'

  Rance Smoaks might have been universally despised, but what small town doesn't love a potentially toxic funeral? And Sutherton loved Kathleen Smoaks, as well, so 'planting Rance' made for a double celebration.

  The widow stood in the vestibule between the chapel portion of the church, where the service had just been concluded, and Fellowship Hall, where lunch was about to be served.

  'I didn't know the guy well,' Joy Tamarack said to AnnaLise as the two waited in line in front of Daisy and Mama to pay their respects. 'But there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of mourning at his funeral.'

  'Let's just say to know the deceased was to hate him,' AnnaLise said over the general chatter and frivolity that surrounded them.

  'If you didn't like him, why are you here?' Joy asked.

  'Because I've known Kathleen for a long time and wanted to support her.' This despite the fact that, until Dr. Stanton mentioned it, AnnaLise had completely forgotten about the funeral.

  'Looks like the young widow's got lots of support.' Joy craned her neck to see around Bobby's mother in front of them. 'In fact, I think she was just high-fived.'

  Joy held up her hands. 'Not that I'm criticizing. If the man was an ass, good riddance, I say.'

  'Amen,' Daisy intoned from behind them and a half-dozen people around the vestibule echoed it, though not for the same reason. Mama exchanged looks with AnnaLise and shrugged.

  An older gentleman, who had been talking with Kathleen, moved away, taking five family members with him, and suddenly Mrs. Bradenham was at the front of the receiving line.

  Kathleen Smoaks was about five foot seven, with honey-colored locks trailing past her shoulder. She'd always reminded AnnaLise of a Barbie doll, but with non-synthetic hair.

  'Kathleen,' Mrs. B was saying as the two air-kissed. 'I am so sorry to see you again under these circumstances.'

  'Bullshit,' Sheree, who'd been standing with the widow, said in AnnaLise's ear. 'That shrew hated seeing Kathleen under any circumstances. Thought she wasn't good enough for Bobby.'

  'Nobody was.' Especially AnnaLise, way back when. Gradually, though, Bobby's mother had seen that AnnaLise and Bobby really were 'just friends' and laid off her, at least.

  'A mama's boy, then?' Joy said. 'I wondered why he's still single.'

  'My opinion?' Sheree nodded toward Kathleen as Mrs. B moved on. 'Bobby never stopped loving the one who got away.'

  Chapter Sixteen

  AnnaLise didn't see Bobby Bradenham until she and Daisy, Mama and Joy Tamarack were sitting down to eat in Fellowship Hall. He came over to say hello, but was promptly flagged down by Sheree Pepper at the next table with Kathleen Smoaks.

  'Interesting,' Joy said with a nod toward the neighboring clump. 'I mean if what Sheree was saying about Bobby and—'

  'Sheree Pepper?' Daisy said, jumping into the conversation by shattering its context and shifting its drift. 'Bobby should watch out for her. That girl was loose all through school, remember, AnnaLise?'

  Friend glanced at friend, not ten feet away, and stammered, 'I... uhhh... no...'

  Joy laughed. 'It's a stage we girls go through, Daisy. You know what people used to say about me?'

  'No, what?' Daisy responded eagerly.

  'That wherever I went, I spread... Joy.'

  'But it's true,' Sheree said, later that night.

  'That I spread 'em?' Joy asked. She was sprawled on her back on the inn's living-room floor, a half-filled margarita glass balanced on her flat stomach.

  'Well, yes. I'm certain of that, too,' Sheree said. 'But I meant what Daisy said. Everyone thought I was a slut in high school, even
though I was practically a virgin.'

  Practically.

  'True or not,' AnnaLise said sternly, 'it's not like Daisy to blurt out something like that.'

  'Maybe not,' Sheree said. 'But it is what it is.'

  'Stupid expression,' Chuck said. It was his night off and he was taking advantage of it, stretched out on the floral couch. '"It is what it is." What's "it", anyway?'

  He leaned over for his glass on the coffee table and nearly slid off the couch. AnnaLise pushed the margarita closer to him. She was on the floor, back against the couch and Sheree was sitting in the red chair, feet tucked under her.

  'What is it? And it is what?' Sheree intoned, Zen-like.

  'It's sort of like, I am what I am and that's all what I am,' Joy offered.

  'Popeye, the Sailor Man!' Chuck sang out and, having sat up heroically to take a sip of margarita, collapsed back into the couch.

  'Aww, geez,' AnnaLise said. 'And we didn't even do drugs in our youth, so we can't blame this conversation on burnout or flashback.'

  'Speak for yourself,' Joy said, executing an ab crunch while still — incredibly — balancing her margarita.

  An intake of breath from Sheree, released as Joy — and liquid-filled glass — settled back onto the rug. 'Doing drugs and spreading joy. Were you the bad ass you'd like us to believe?'

  'You want the truth?'

  AnnaLise was looking at Joy upside down, so she scooted around so she could see her face in normal orientation. 'Yes, please.'

  'No.' Joy sat up, simultaneously lifting the glass carefully and putting it on the coffee table.

  'Umm, no what?' Chuck asked sleepily. Apparently his role tonight as inquisitor was less than grand.

  'No, I wasn't a bad ass. Worst thing I ever smoked was cigarettes, which is not recommended for an athlete. I play the bad girl because I was always a jock and when you're a female one, people tend to think―'

  'You're a lesbian,' Sheree finished. 'No offense,' to Chuck.

  'None taken.' His eyes were closed.

  AnnaLise rolled hers and turned back to Joy. 'So how did you end up married to Dickens Hart?'