Running on Empty by Sandra Balzo Read Free Book Online Page A

in his speech beyond a trace of north-east
     corridor.
    'You did. I'm AnnaLise Griggs.'
    'AnnaLise and I went to school together,' Sheree said.
    'A pleasure to meet you.'
    'Are you visiting for the weekend?' AnnaLise asked.
    'And beyond,' Duende said, cracking a grin. 'I have a job that will keep me here for
     the duration of the winter, God help me.'
    'Hey, skiers pay big money for the pleasure of Sutherton's ivory-colored slopes,'
     Sheree said, before AnnaLise could ask Duende what he did.
    'Jim lives above the dining room,' the innkeeper continued, with a meaningful gleam.
    'Ahh, number thirteen.' AnnaLise turned her own blind eye to the 'gleam' part. 'You're
     a brave man.'
    Room thirteen had become another Sutherton legend after a spurned lover barricaded
     himself in it and drank poison before throwing himself out the window. His ghost would
     probably still haunt the place if the 'poison' hadn't been cheap room-shampoo and
     his fall barely nine feet, cushioned by newly tilled soil below.
    But Sutherton didn't let go of its legends easily. More's the pity, since Daisy's
     siphoning of Mrs. Bradenham was destined to become one. Probably number
one.
    'I have to admit, I'm a sucker for a good story,' Duende said. 'Besides, I can stomp
     around all I want without bothering anyone below, except during breakfast.'
    'Nonetheless,' Sheree said coyly, ' some
noises carry. '
    Damn, thought AnnaLise. Another one bites Sheree's dust. No matter, though. AnnaLise
     wasn't in search of a man and certainly not one who was living indefinitely in a rooming
     house of sorts in small-town North Carolina, and shtupping the innkeeper to boot.
    Still, an extra man, no matter whose, would make Frat Pack Night even more fun. 'Are
     you coming to Sal's tonight?'
    'What's tonight?'
    Sheree looked put out. Apparently she'd had other plans for the evening. And 'Jim'.
    Well, that's too bad, AnnaLise thought. It wouldn't kill Sheree to share. 'I'm sure
     you've met the Frat Pack.' The sisterhood took over the inn whenever they visited.
     It would be hard to miss them.
    But apparently he had. 'Pardon?'
    'Joy Tamarack and her gang,' Sheree explained, a tad sourly.
    AnnaLise noticed. 'Why the long face, Seabiscuit?'
    Duende laughed, but Sheree's scowl grew more pronounced. 'What are you, five?'
    'Sorry. Coming home can regress a person.'
    'You don't live around here any longer?' Duende asked.
    'No, I went to college in Wisconsin and took a job there after graduation.'
    'So you're back to see family. I couldn't help but notice the resemblance this morning.'
    Since Daisy was blonde and blue-eyed and AnnaLise dark-haired and brown-eyed, Duende
     was probably assuming Mama was AnnaLise's... well, mama. It was a common mistake.
    'It's a little hard to explain, but my mother is Daisy Griggs, the blonde woman I
     was sitting with this morning. Mama is her best friend.'
    'Gotcha.' If he did, he was a quick study. Duende changed the subject. 'So, what do
     you do in Wisconsin?'
    'I'm a reporter for the city's daily, the Urban Times
.'
    'General assignment?'
    The guy obviously knew something about the biz. 'No, I cover the police beat. Are
     you a journalist, too?'
    But James Duende was backing toward the door. 'Nope. I've just known a couple. Well,
     I'd better get going. Nice to meet you, AnnaLise. See you later, Sheree.'
    And he was gone.
    AnnaLise looked at Sheree. 'He was in a hurry all of sudden.'
    'Not always.' Now an arch look. 'Mostly he takes his time.'
    The last thing AnnaLise wanted to hear about was Sheree's love life. Or, more precisely,
     her sex life.
    Like James Duende, change the subject. 'Why were you looking so disapproving of Joy
     and her band of sisters? Did they break something again?'
    So far as AnnaLise knew, the Pack had broken one lamp, two chairs and an antique chamber
     pot. At least as of the last statement.
    'No. They just gave me notice. They won't be back next year.'
    No Frat Pack? It was unthinkable. Not that it should matter