“What are you doing here?” My greeting wasn’t even remotely friendly. “Don’t you have something evil to plot?”
Fawn ignored my tone. “I’m here to see the Barracuda.”
I pursed my lips, confused. “Is that some newfangled sex reference I don’t get?” I asked finally. Fawn was younger than me by a good seven years – barely out of college – and her attitude often made me wonder if she was really a teenager with a fake ID. She also had big, bouncy boobs and hated wearing bras.
“I wouldn’t be surprised, but no. The Barracuda is only the coolest radio personality ever.”
It took me a moment to realize who she was referring to. “Are you serious? The Barracuda? And I thought Eliot calling me ‘Kitten’ was annoying.”
Fawn almost choked on her coffee. “Eliot calls you Kitten?”
I considered messing with her. The crush she had on Eliot was absolutely ridiculous. I didn’t care about her feelings enough to waste the time. “No. He calls me Goddess Divine.”
Fawn rolled her eyes. “He does not.”
“He does. It’s a private name.”
“I’m going to ask him.”
“You do that.”
We lapsed into silence a moment – it was uncomfortable and sort of made me want to punch her in the face simply for existing – but then I remembered the original question. “Bart Savage is known as the Barracuda, huh?”
“He is.” Fawn bobbed her head, her face flushed with excitement. “He’s my guru.”
I studied her for a long beat. “I don’t think you understand what that word means.”
“I do so.”
“Prove it.”
“Guru. A spiritual teacher.”
She was smarter than I thought … which wasn’t saying much. “You’re basically saying you want to follow the guy who thinks women shouldn’t be allowed to hold jobs.”
“So?”
“You’re a woman.”
“So?”
Good grief. If dried poop stuck to a boot was reincarnated into a person, it would be Fawn. “Why would you possibly want to follow a guy who thinks you’re less than someone else simply because you have breasts?”
“That’s not what he’s about,” Fawn countered. “He believes that the way to a truly great society is through a nuclear family. That means a mother and a father. The father goes out and earns a living, thus providing for his family financially. The mother stays home and provides for the children spiritually.
“That’s how things were done before all this feminism crap,” she continued. “And you know what? Families were happier back then. The divorce rate was much lower. Infidelity wasn’t a thing.”
And she was back to being the world’s stupidest hot air balloon. “You have a job,” I reminded her.
“It’s fine to have a job before you get married. It’s even okay to have a job before you bring kids into the relationship. It’s not okay to leave children at home.”
“Because the Barracuda says so?”
“He’s a genius.” Fawn took on a far-off expression. “He thinks it’s a good idea to pick up men at work so you’ll always have similar interests to talk about.”
That explained a lot. “Have you told Eliot this theory?”
Fawn’s lips curved down. “I’m sure Eliot would prefer if you would follow the principles of the Barracuda, too. His codex has completely changed my life.”
My eyebrows hopped. “He has a codex?”
“Of course. All smart men do.”
I definitely wanted to smack her around. “You realize that he’s on trial for rape, right?”
“That’s all a big misunderstanding.” Fawn batted her eyelashes at a burly man who strolled past us, causing him to slow his pace and wink at her. He had a mustache straight out of a 1980s porn movie and what looked to be enough chest hair to create a William Shatner wig.
“You know he probably has herpes, right?”
Fawn made a disgusted face. “Why does your mind always go straight into the gutter?”
“I was born that way.”
“Well, it’s unattractive. And, for the record, the women who accused Bart of sexual assault were unattractive. Why would he try to rape someone like that when he has his pick of women all across the state? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Rape isn’t about looks. It’s about power.”
“If you say so.” Fawn rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I’m here to make my voice heard.” She puffed out her chest so I could read her “Bart the Barracuda for President” shirt. “I want Bart to know that we’re behind him and don’t believe those ugly women for a second.”
I ran my tongue over my teeth and honestly considered whether I could get her in a headlock before anyone noticed. Instead, I merely shook my head and took a step back. “Have fun with your fellow protestors.”
“Oh, I intend to. We have might and right on our side.”
“Wow. I see you’ve come prepared.”
“I have. Bart is a great man. The only reason he’s even here is because people are afraid his message is going to start spreading. When that happens, we’ll be able to turn the tide.”
“You listen to way too much talk radio. Have you ever considered listening to pop music? I think the mentality you could take on from Justin Bieber music would match your boobs.”
Confused, she furrowed her brow. “What?”
There was no way I could explain without losing half the afternoon. “I have to get moving. I’m supposed to interview some of the protestors for tomorrow’s edition of The Monitor.”
Fawn brightened considerably. “Interview me. I have a lot to say.”
I could think of fifty million things I would rather do, including watching a Keeping Up With the Kardashians marathon. “I can’t interview anyone I personally know. It’s against the rules.”
“Really?” Fawn was obviously disappointed. “That’s a total bummer.”
“Total,” I agreed, taking a big step away from her. “I should get going. I’m on deadline.”
“Have fun.” Fawn’s smile was bright. “Try learning something. If you expect to hold on to Eliot you need to embrace the Barracuda Codex.”
“I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”
MY BRAIN FELT POLLUTED when I finally managed to put some distance between Fawn and me. I was anxious to stay away from her for the rest of the afternoon. To ensure that, I decided to talk to the anti-Barracuda demonstrators first.
“How did you guys know to come here?” I asked as I sidled up to a woman. She looked to be in charge – at least as in charge as was possible when organizing chaos. She was almost six feet tall. She raised an eyebrow when she glanced at me, looked away again, and then returned her gaze quickly.
“You’re Avery Shaw,” she blurted out, taking me by surprise.
I glanced down to make sure I hadn’t accidentally put on a shirt with my name on it – Eliot got me one as a gag gift that read “Avery Shaw is kind of a big deal” and I accidentally wore it to cover a murder once, which didn’t go over well. But I was wearing my “Pretty fly for a Jedi” shirt today.
“You’re Avery Shaw, right?” the woman pressed.
“I am,” I confirmed after a moment’s contemplation. If I was about to get punched in the face for something I’d written, this woman could do some damage. I didn’t see where I had many options, though.
“I absolutely love you,” she enthused, a wide smile washing across her features. “You’re my spirit animal.”
I had no idea what to say to that. “Really? Mine is a shark with lasers.” The words escaped before I thought better of them. “You know, like in Austin Powers.”
The woman blinked several times in rapid succession. “You’re just as funny as people say. I love it.” She extended her hand. “I’m Julia Jericho. I’m head of the Women Against Stupid People brigade.”
I shook her hand because I didn’t know what else to do. My curiosity was rampant. “WASP?”
“Oh. That’s kind of neat. I can see why you picked that.”
“It’s much better than their name.” Julia jerked her thumb in the direction of the male protestors. “Men Against Gender Equality.”
“MAGE,” I said, a chuckle bubbling up. “Because they’re wizards of the world?”
“They think they’re going to magically turn back time,” Julia replied. “They don’t seem to realize that things really weren’t better back in the ‘old days.’” She used the appropriate air quotes. “Back then it was simply easier to cover up infidelity because there was no Facebook or cell phones to trip people up. There were no DNA tests for the women who found themselves pregnant by sleazy snakes. They simply got scarlet letters emblazoned across their chests while the men got away with it.”
“I guess I never really thought about it like that,” I admitted. “It’s true, though.”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “That’s why I like you so much. You don’t take crap from anyone. That includes the sheriff, who has threatened to throw you in jail if you don’t back off a story.”
“How do you know about that?” I was legitimately curious.
Julia lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “One of the sheriff’s department secretaries is a member of our group. Don’t tell anyone.”
Definitely not. If I could figure out who it was, I could totally blackmail her for special privileges down the road. “My lips are sealed.” I flicked my eyes to the men who were gathering across the way. They had their heads bent together so they could whisper without anyone overhearing. That is when they weren’t overtly ogling any woman who dared cross their path. “Do you know any of them?”
Julia nodded, a scowl moving over her strong face. She had high cheekbones and a square jaw. She reminded me of someone, though I couldn’t remember who. “That’s Dan Crawford.” She pointed at a portly man with a beer belly. His hair was unbelievably thin and looked to be growing forward rather than back. He’s the head of MAGE.”
“So, he’s the head wizard.” That was good to know. He was definitely high on my list when it came to people I wanted to derange. “What’s his story?”
“I don’t know much about him,” Julia admitted. “I know he’s divorced and his ex-wife claims he was emotionally abusive. I heard that through the grapevine, though. I’ve never met his ex – at least I don’t think I have – so I don’t know that for fact.”
I tapped my bottom lip as I studied the man in question. “He looks bad in bed, doesn’t he?”
Julia snickered. “He does. I think that’s another reason you’re my spirit animal.”
“I’m not bad in bed,” I said hurriedly. “I’ve been described as a kitten. You know … all claws and purrs.”
Julia laughed so hard I worried she was going to topple over … or choke. “Oh, you are a riot.” She rested her hand on my arm. “Seriously, I think you should join our group.”
That sounded like a terrible idea. It’s not that I didn’t agree with them, because I did. I was a big fan of women being powerful, taking life by the horns and basically kicking men in the keisters if they did anything stupid. I wasn’t, however, a joiner. I didn’t even like being a member of my own secret club when I was a kid. It was painful.
“That’s nice,” I said after a beat. “I don’t really think I can, though.” I decided to use the same excuse on Julia that I did on Fawn. “The newspaper I work for frowns on that, though. I could get fired.”
“For joining a group?” Julia was incensed. “Do you want us to demonstrate there when we’re done here?”
I pictured Fish’s face at the prospect and barely managed to hold back a laugh. “I agreed to their terms when I signed my employment contract. I knew what I was getting into.”
“Still, we can fight for your right to protest.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I licked my lips as I searched for a good conversational shift. Thankfully, one stepped into view at that exact moment.
I shouldn’t have been surprised to see him. Tad Ludington was the worst excuse for a man I knew. He was my college boyfriend, a man bereft of a soul and an identifiable penis. His ego was bigger than his brain or his balls, and he spent his days overcompensating for his lack of both by being the thumbnail image next to the word “douche” in the urban dictionary.
He was also in danger of becoming a county commissioner … again … thanks to an election fluke that had seen the two frontrunners for his seat arrested and eliminated from the competition.
“Well, well, well,” Tad drawled when he caught sight of me, smarminess sliding from his tongue. “If it isn’t Macomb County’s worst witch. I mean … best reporter.”
I merely stared at him for an extended period, just long enough that he grew uncomfortable and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Did you hear me?” he asked finally. “I just said that you were a witch.”
Instead of reacting, I remained focused on Julia. “Tell me about the origins of your group,” I suggested. “I’m fascinated when it comes to stuff like that. Did you come together simply to fight MAGE, or was it more than that?”
Julia momentarily glanced between us and then collected herself. “Um, we came together about a year ago,” she offered, eyeing Tad with great dislike. “I’m sorry, but you look familiar. Do I know you?”
“I very much doubt it,” Tad replied. “I don’t hang out with lesbians.”
My eyes widened at his condescending tone. “What did you just call her?” I challenged, fury overtaking me.
“I don’t believe I stuttered.” Tad was always a pompous windbag and today was no different. “She’s very obviously a lesbian. Normal women aren’t that big. God doesn’t like lesbians. I’m running on a platform of family values, Avery. I know you don’t know anything about that, but the voters are keen to make me their king.”
I wanted to puke. “Oh, you’re just … .” The words died on my lips when a hand shot out and grabbed Tad by the throat. The movement was so fast I momentarily thought I was imagining things. He was choking and turning red before I realized it was really happening.
“What the … ?” I turned, expecting to find Eliot at my side. He’d promised Tad things would get ugly if he ever caught the man in my proximity again. Instead, I realized Julia had Tad by the throat … and she was squeezing hard. “Oh, this is fun,” I enthused, grinning. “Does anyone have a camera? I’ve got a great idea.”
3 Three
I thought maybe I was trapped in a movie ... or a prison television show. The way Tad’s eyes bugged out of his head told me that this was real, and I tried to think on my feet.
“Um ... you can put him down,” I told Julia, although I didn’t put much effort into the suggestion.
“He disrespected you,” she gritted out.
That was true. Tad had made a point of disrespecting me since we’d left college and I started spreading the rumor that his parents had a thimble painted and glued to his body in lieu of the penis he was obviously born without. Still, killing him now would severely cut down on the entertainment I could derive from a lifetime of his idiocy.
“Yeah, but he can’t help himself,” I said finally, catching Eliot’s gaze from across the street. He’d come outside when he realized something was happening, but now he merely watched with dumbfounded fascination as Julia waved Tad around like a rag doll. “Trust me. He’s not worth going to jail for.”
Julia heaved out a sigh and reluctantly lowered Tad to the ground. The moment she released her grip on his throat, he gasped as he sucked in mouthfuls of oxygen. His gaze was murderous as he bent at the waist, but he couldn’t yet find his voice. That gave me ideas. Evil ideas.
I risked another glance at Eliot and found him standing closer to the curb, his arms folded across his chest. He obviously
was waiting for Tad to lose his cool so he could race in and protect my honor — most likely with his fists — and I didn’t want Tad’s mouth to take over the current story, so I had to defuse the tension.
“That will teach you to mouth off to people bigger than you,” I told him.
Tad glared at me. “I will end you,” he wheezed, rubbing his throat.
“Look across the street,” I countered, lowering my voice. Smug satisfaction whipped through me when Tad did as instructed. I recognized the exact moment he saw Eliot. “Walk away. You’ll end up looking like an uber-douche if you don’t.”
He opened his mouth to argue but clearly thought better of it, because instead he took an exaggerated step away from me, still rubbing his throat. “This isn’t over.”
“It will never be over,” I agreed. “You’ll lose today, though. Is that what you want?”
“I’ll be back.” Tad lifted his chin and shot Eliot a challenging look before slinking into the crowd.
This time when I looked back at Eliot I didn’t miss the smirk playing at the corners of his lips. When he realized I was watching, the smile disappeared. He lifted his right hand, extended his index and middle fingers, and pointed them toward his eyes before jabbing them in my direction. His message was clear. He was watching. For some reason I found his reaction amusing and offered him a gay wave as a response. His smile broadened at the gesture before he turned on his heel and returned to the shop.
“He’s hot, huh?” Julia said as she gazed over my shoulder.
“He’s definitely hot,” I agreed. “He’s kind of a whiner sometimes, though. He can’t help himself.”
“Was he going to rush over here and defend your honor?”
“Pretty much.”
“Then he’s definitely a keeper.”
I couldn’t agree more.
AFTER INTERVIEWING SOME OF the protesters, I decided to head inside. I wasn’t technically allowed to cover the court proceedings. Fish made that very clear via text when I pitched my idea. He conceded that a second story was warranted and allowed me to deal with the protests, but the court reporter was in charge of the trial. I agreed, even though I wanted control over both. I was learning how to compromise, but I didn’t put much practice into it.
Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14) Page 3
