Dead Ends (Main Street Mysteries Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

danced a precarious semi-circle around a gorge deep enough to give AnnaLise conniptions.
    ‘Well, not to worry,’ Daisy said. ‘It won't be dark for another couple of hours, so you don't even need to concern yourself about getting down the mountain before nightfall. Besides, the people who stay at Hotel Lux drive up and down it without a problem and some of them are two or three times your age.’
    ‘That's because they have cataracts as thick as quarters and cars the size of cabin cruisers. They just point downhill and let ’er rip so they won't miss the early-bird specials at Mama's.’
    ‘“They,” and the rest of our visitors, keep this town solvent,’ Daisy scolded. ‘I won't have you badmouthing them.’
    Sure, AnnaLise thought, until they ignore the no-parking sign in front of your garage and block you in. Again.
    But she didn't say it. Instead, ‘I just meant that Ida Mae might have given up on us and is having dinner.’
    ‘Sure you did.’ The dollop of sarcasm was unmistakable. ‘Here, take Main Street, but don't forget to bear left toward the mountain.’
    AnnaLise turned onto Main Street and then bore left, as ordered. The opposite direction would have taken them home. Instead, though, she was reluctantly circling Lake Sutherton clockwise on Main, a route which would eventually take them up Sutherton Mountain.
    The western side of the lake was dominated by large homes with names like Miller House, Preston Place, Watkins Nest and Cranswick Cottage. Then came the north boat launch, the post office and Lucky's Bait Shop. A handy arrangement since during the during the summer months, mail was delivered to the lake homes by boat.
    Tourists paid fifteen dollars a head for the fun of riding along to cheer on the college-age runners who hopped off the boat on one side of the property, raced to the flagged boxes to deliver and collect the mail and then, with luck, hopped back on the vessel – which never stopped or slowed – before it was out of leaping range.
    Lake Sutherton was cinched at the waist like a figure eight and just below the belt was Bradenham, Mayor Bobby Bradenham's homestead. Just north of Bradenham was the turn-off for what had been White Tail Island, now converted into ‘Hart's Landing.’
    A half-mile north of Hart's Landing was where Main Street began to climb the mountain. This so-called ‘low entrance’ took visitors past the strategically placed Sutherton Real Estate office, which handled properties on both the lake and mountain. AnnaLise's friend Kathleen Smoakes headed the rental division.
    ‘How far along are the Eames on Ida Mae's deck?’ she asked her mother as the little Mitsubishi passed the first tee of the eighteen-hole golf course and then six clay tennis courts, already covered in fallen, wind-blown leaves.
    ‘Done, I hope. That rickety thing was practically falling off the place. As tight as the woman is with money, I finally convinced her that she'd best fix it before someone landed on the expert slope without wearing any skis.’ Ida Mae's place was one of the many stilt-supported chalets on the fringe of the ski hill.
    ‘I hear you.’ AnnaLise nodded at a rustic wooden lodge diagonally across the road from the tennis courts. Located at the base of the ski hill where all the runs came together, the place would be jammed with parka-sheathed skiers in a couple of months. Now, though, the lodge was nearly deserted, the metal benches for the chair lift detached and lined up on the grass, half of them looking newly painted. ‘Speaking of skiing, it looks like they're getting a jump on the season.’
    ‘The lodge has to be ready for the first snowfall, whenever that should come,’ Daisy said. ‘Besides, they've taken to doing ski-lift rides on fall weekends. I hear it's beautiful, what with the changing leaves and all. We should do it this weekend before you leave.’
    Again, that push-pull in Daisy's voice. Wanting her daughter to stay, but hoping she wouldn't