The courtroom was packed when I entered and I was forced to sit next to James Carlson, who had served as The Monitor’s court reporter for the past five years. Thankfully he was one of the few people at the newspaper who didn’t annoy me – at least not yet. I had a feeling that would change before this case was over.
“What are you doing here?” James asked, surprised when I slid into the spot next to him. “This is my story.”
“I know.” I opted to put on an innocent front so he wouldn’t be suspicious. “Fish has me covering the protestors. It’s hot outside. I decided to take a break in the air conditioning and figured I would get a feel for how things are going in here before heading back out to conduct more interviews.”
“Oh.” James marginally relaxed. “That makes sense. I wasn’t expecting so many people to be outside.”
“I wasn’t either. I saw them when I was having lunch.” I took the opportunity to scan the room. It was filled with familiar faces. “Why is half the prosecutor’s office here?” I asked after a beat. “Don’t they have cases of their own to try?”
James followed my gaze. “Yeah, well, I’ve heard some whispers.” He made a big show of stretching as he looked around — probably to mask the fact that he was about to gossip — and then lasered his gaze on me. “I didn’t know this was a thing, but I was thinking of bringing it up to Fish later. It could make a great enterprise story for the election.”
I waited, feigning patience.
“Terrence Morgan is worried about the election in November,” James continued. “He’s up along with the rest of the county positions.”
“I’m well aware. I thought he was going to win in a walkover.”
“Not since people have started making noise about the financial irregularities in the office,” James replied. “That’s going to be a big item on the agenda during the next county board meeting.”
That was an interesting tip I filed away for later. “What does that have to do with this case?”
“It’s garnering a lot of attention. Word is that Morgan wants to make a splash with a high-profile conviction. That’s why he volunteered to try the case himself even though he rarely stands in front of a judge these days.”
Now that he mentioned it, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw the lead prosecutor take a personal interest in a case. The fact that he was actually arguing this one should’ve been a red flag. I was clearly off my game for not noticing. I would have to rectify that situation ... and fast.
“He wanted the publicity associated with a celebrity in the courtroom,” I mused, tapping my bottom lip as I ran the scenario through my head. “I guess that makes sense. Do you happen to know how strong the case against Savage is? I mean ... is it a slam dunk or is there wiggle room for him to escape?”
“I haven’t seen all the evidence yet,” James replied. “I know at least two of the women will be testifying.”
“What about the third?”
He shrugged. “She’s on the witness list but she’s not confirmed yet. I thought that was odd, but it occasionally happens. Sometimes witnesses move and they don’t make them come back unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
That made sense. “Given all the people downstairs, I’m guessing Morgan is going to get his wish. His face will be all over the airwaves tonight.”
“It will,” James agreed. “The thing is, I heard he’s suddenly worried because he had no idea how many voters in Macomb County actually listen to Savage’s show. Apparently they’ve been getting death threats through the main office’s phone line.”
And the plot thickens. I shifted to study James’s face. “Basically you’re saying that Morgan took the case because he wanted the attention. Now that he’s getting it and realizes he’s going to alienate some of his male base, he’s starting to wonder if it was a mistake.”
James nodded once. “Pretty much. I hear things are extremely tense in the prosecutor’s office, which is why all the assistant prosecutors have been ordered to be here as spectators unless they have something pressing going on in another courtroom.”
“He wants it to appear he has a lot of support,” I mused.
“Definitely.”
“Well, this will be interesting to watch then.” I leaned back on the wooden bench seat and extended my legs in front of me. “What’s happening this afternoon?”
“Just preliminary motions. They’re not even doing jury selection until tomorrow. I have to be here just to be on the safe side, but my story is going to be pretty boring. Thankfully tomorrow we start to get to the meat.”
“There are a lot of people downstairs,” I offered. “I think that group is only going to grow as this thing gets more television play. The protestors are going to like the idea of appearing on camera.”
“It could turn into a circus.”
I grinned. “And who doesn’t love a circus?”
JAMES WAS RIGHT ABOUT the proceedings being boring. Jury selection hadn’t even begun — and that would probably take at least another full day — so the jockeying in the courtroom this afternoon was of the tedious variety.
Morgan stood in front of the counsel tables and postured, puffing out his chest and mentioning the “good of the people” at least fifty times when it came to the risk Savage presented for the public. I listened for an hour before growing bored and returning to the chaos outside. I was much more interested in the insults and names being lobbed in front of the courthouse than the political games playing out in front of the judge several stories up.
“They asked for it,” a man screeched as I hit the pavement. He was practically frothing at the mouth as he glared at a young brunette across the way. I noticed the sheriff’s department presence had doubled in my absence, and there looked to be more people jockeying for position as two distinct groups formed. There was a small aisle down the middle, but I knew that would evaporate should things get really tense.
“How did they ask for it?” Julia bellowed back. She had a good six inches on the man, but he wasn’t backing down.
“If you dress like a slut, you’re going to be treated like a slut.”
“Does that mean I can treat you like a moron?” Julia challenged. “You’re dressed like one. I mean ... who picked out that outfit for you? I’m guessing your mother, right?”
“Don’t you dare say a bad thing about my mother!”
I snorted in amusement, earning a raised eyebrow from the female deputy standing to my left. I recognized her. She was a recent transfer from Oakland County. Jake Farrell, the sheriff and my former boyfriend, had sent out a news release announcing her arrival about a week ago.
“Carol Jenkins, right?”
She nodded, her eyes narrowing. “Do I know you?”
I shook my head. “No, but you will. I’m Avery Shaw.”
Jenkins’s expression darkened. “I’ve been warned about you.”
“Did Jake hold a meeting?”
“Not Sheriff Farrell. It was someone else.”
I was instantly alert. “Who?”
“I’m not at liberty to say.”
Her stiff demeanor told me all I needed to know. Plus, I remembered the contact listed on the news release. There was a new face making strides with personnel decisions in the department, and it was a familiar one. “You’re talking about Derrick. What did he say about me?” In addition to being Jake’s right-hand man, Derrick was my cousin. We were essentially raised as brother and sister thanks to my co-dependent family, but that was a double-edged sword. Essentially it meant we were loyal like siblings. It also meant we fought like siblings. “What did he say to you? I’ll totally make him cry at the next family dinner.”
Carol averted her gaze. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said evasively. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a job to do. Mr. Savage is on his way down and he’s expected to make a statement before departing the area. Things could get ugly.”
Even though I wanted to press her further, I kn
ew better. I had a job to do and whatever nonsense Savage was about to spout was more important than the lies Derrick was spreading through the sheriff’s department. Derrick wasn’t my concern. Not even a little. I just ... . “He’s angry because I didn’t go to his fiancée’s stupid baby shower,” I explained, refusing to let it go. I wouldn’t be the person I am today if I simply let things go. That wasn’t how I operated. “He’s a bitter little man and I’m going to get him back for this. You can’t believe a word he says.”
“He said you would say that,” Carol noted.
Of course he did. “Well ... .” Whatever I was going to say died on my lips as the glass doors at the front of the building opened to allow Savage’s exit.
The man didn’t slow his pace. He wore a black suit that probably cost more than my car and his thinning hair was slicked back to the point it didn’t move despite a breeze. He waved to his supporters when they began to cheer and ignored the gathered women as they started screaming slogans at him.
A lectern with microphones had been set up in front of the crowd and Savage immediately headed for it. An entourage trailed him and it included at least two burly bodyguards who looked as if they’d been plucked from the offensive line of a professional football team to serve as muscle for Michigan’s favorite misogynistic mouth.
Crawford, the man Julia pointed out as the leader of the pro-Savage contingent, intercepted the radio personality before he could reach the lectern. Broad smiles were exchanged as they shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder. They looked as if they were about to make out.
“Slip him the tongue,” I called out during a momentary lull, smirking when the women started whooping and hollering. The men, however, didn’t think I was funny.
“That’s a sin!” one of the men screamed. “We are not sinners!”
“I don’t see how he can say that with a straight face given the shoes he’s wearing,” I supplied, looking to Carol for applause. She merely glared at me. “We’re going to have to work on your sense of humor,” I said as I retrieved my reporter’s notebook from my pocket. “You’re either going to find me funny or miserable. The former is better than the latter. Trust me.”
“Whatever you say,” Carol drawled.
“Yup. You suck,” I muttered under my breath as I watched Savage move to his spot in front of the microphones.
“I want to thank all my supporters for being here,” he announced, the microphones whining as they adjusted to his loudness. “You have no idea how much I appreciate and value each and every one of you.” He offered a little tip of an invisible hat to Fawn, who pressed her hand to the spot above her heart before whispering something to the woman standing beside her.
“These are trying times for me,” he continued. “At first, I was angry. I’m not going to lie; fury filled my heart and threatened to take over my life. It didn’t last long, though. I knew I would be making a mistake if I let the anger gain a foothold.
“God doesn’t want us to be angry, my brothers and sisters,” he said. “He wants us to live our best lives. That’s the message I’ve been sending. That’s the message I will continue to send. Even though the Devil sent trials in the form of serpents, women who lied to take me down, I still believe I will prevail. My message will be heard.”
A cry went out in the crowd as he raised his fist in triumph. The other group, the one made up of mostly women, started screaming insults that I couldn’t quite make out. Thankfully I had a good imagination; I had no doubt what they were saying.
“I need each and every one of you to continue the fight,” Savage intoned. “I want you to spread my codex, tell the world what it needs to heal itself, and stand true and proud in the face of an agenda that would ruin our families.
“We cannot let the Devil win,” he bellowed. “This is our chance to make a statement. Make it loud and proud. Never give up. Never surrender. We will survive!”
“He’s kind of like a fortune cookie,” I muttered to myself as Savage’s followers roared their approval. It was so loud I swear my eardrums were thrumming. Then, another sound filled the air. It took me a moment to realize what I was hearing. It was difficult to make out over the din, and yet it was equally distinctive.
One of the men behind the lectern jerked, a red splash blossoming on his chest before he listed to the side and tumbled to the pavement.
Things happened in slow motion after that.
The noise died as people struggled to grasp what they were seeing.
Another gunshot rang out, causing a second man behind Savage to fall.
Then people started screaming and running.
I was caught, unsure what to do. Finally my instincts kicked in and I dropped to my knees to cover my head. I didn’t know what else to do.
That’s when another shot rang out and I began to wonder if the tragedy of the day was going to be much different than I’d initially envisioned.
4 Four
The shots ceased at some point. I wasn’t certain when I stopped registering them. The screams continued even after I was certain the shooting had stopped.
I remained on my knees, shoving my notebook in the back pocket of my pants before surveying the situation. I heard sheriff’s deputies screaming for people to be quiet, but few were listening.
I tuned them out and focused my attention on the bodies behind the lectern. I was certain they were the individuals targeted, so that’s the direction I crawled.
The first person I found was one of the burly bodyguards. He was crouched over another figure, one I recognized as Savage. The blustery man who only seconds before had been boasting about being brave in his fight cowered beneath his bodyguard as the man barked out orders.
“Are you hit?” I asked, my voice cracking.
Savage didn’t respond, but the guard shook his head. “No. Are you a doctor?”
“No.” I pushed past them and continued crawling, this time heading for an inert body on the ground. Crawford. He was spread eagle on the pavement, his eyes glazed and staring at the sky. I was almost positive he was dead, but I had to check for myself to be certain.
I extended two shaking fingers and touched them against his neck, briefly pressing my eyes shut when I didn’t find a pulse. I exhaled heavily, willing myself to get it together so I could start reporting on the scene, but the sensation of hands at my waist yanked me back to reality faster than my brain could manage.
“Hey! No feeling me up during a shooting!” I swiveled fast, ready to belt someone in the face. Instead I found Eliot, his face pale and drawn. “Oh. You were the one feeling me up. You can keep doing it ... I guess.”
He didn’t as much as crack a smile. “Are you okay?” He ran his hands over my abdomen and hips. “You weren’t hit, were you?”
I shook my head as I met his gaze. “What are you doing here?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“It was safer for you to stay in your shop.”
He made a face. “Yeah. That sounds just like me. Shots are fired in the vicinity of my girlfriend and I’m going to stay where it’s safe. Are you slow?”
I felt slow. “I thought I was your lover.”
Now he finally did crack a smile, but it was more of a grimace. “You scared the crap out of me. Come here.” He jerked me into his arms, smoothing my hair as he exhaled heavily against my face. “You’re okay, right? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m okay.” I was thankful for his proximity. Whether he intended to be or not, he was like a safety blanket as I collected myself. “Crawford is dead.”
Keeping a firm grip on me, Eliot checked Crawford’s pulse for himself. “Yeah. Who is this guy?”
“He was head of the protest, one of the guys who think women should be seen and not heard.”
“Well, now he isn’t going to be heard.” On impulse, Eliot wrapped his arm around my waist and stood. “Come on. I’m getting you out of here.”
“But ... I’m not done.” Slowly I was beginning to retu
rn to my normal self. “I have to cover this.”
“Avery, you’re a part of this story. You can’t cover it.”
“Oh, I’m going to cover it.” I moved to pull away from him, but his grip was too tight. “In five minutes,” I conceded, giving in and rubbing my cheek against his shirt. “I feel a little shaky.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He kissed my forehead. “I don’t think I can ever let you out of my sight again. It’s not an ultimatum or anything. I’m just warning you that I plan to handcuff myself to you when you try to leave the house tomorrow morning.”
“That sounds like a fun argument.”
“Doesn’t it, though?”
ELIOT AND I TOOK UP POSITION beneath a large willow tree in front of the courthouse, giving the emergency crews room to operate. Within minutes, thirty sheriff’s deputies descended on the courtyard. Their leader, Jake, wasn’t far behind.
“Are you guys okay?” He made a beeline for us. Even though our relationship wasn’t always easy, we remained close thanks to a bond formed in childhood that simply couldn’t be broken. The romance was gone — we both agreed we would kill each other if we tried to make things work as adults — but the friendship remained.
“We’re okay,” Eliot replied, his hand busy as he rubbed it over my back. “I wasn’t even here when it happened. She was.” He inclined his head in my direction.
“You weren’t shot, were you?” Jake hunkered down so we were at eye level.
I shook my head. “No. I was close, but you didn’t get that lucky.”
Jake’s eyes darkened. “That is not funny.”
“She’s been doing the gallows humor thing since I got to her,” Eliot offered. “I think it’s her way of coping. Don’t take it personally.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” I challenged.
Eliot smirked. “Why do you think I said it?”
Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14) Page 4
