Duncan rolled his eyes. “I think you’re missing out on a golden opportunity,” he countered. “You should send me to the courthouse — replace Avery — and allow me to do the real story from the inside. That’s the way this should be handled.”
“Excuse me?” My eyebrows hopped near my hairline. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” Duncan refused to back down. “I understand the issues better than you do. You’re a man-hater.”
“I’m a Duncan hater,” I corrected. “I don’t hate all men, just you ... and Tad Ludington ... and I’m not real fond of that guy who keeps coming to the house and telling me he wants to spray for spiders and then asking for the man of the house when I say I don’t want poison spread around.”
Fish snickered. “Avery is not being taken off the story.” He was firm and shook his head when Duncan opened his mouth to argue. “She’s got this. You worry about your work and she will handle her assignment.”
Duncan’s facade finally slipped. “She always gets her own way. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?”
“Become a better reporter,” I suggested, wandering to the fax machine and collecting the news release coming through. “If you want to be the one to tell the stories, you have to get better at tracking down information. You’re incessantly lazy. You have to get over that if you want to win the big prize.”
“I am not lazy,” he countered, puffing out his chest. “I work ten times harder than you.”
Fish and I both made derisive sounds in the backs of our throats.
“It’s true,” Duncan pressed.
I decided to tune him out. If I didn’t, the conversation would continue in circles for the foreseeable future. Instead, I held up the news release for Fish. “There’s a new wrinkle in the protests.”
Fish was instantly on alert. “What?”
“A national organization dedicated to gender equality and basic rights for female workers is on the way. In fact, they’re scheduled to join the fray this afternoon.”
“Which organization?”
My smile came, unbidden. “The one getting all the press lately.”
“Oh, no.” Fish covered his eyes. “I knew this was going to happen.”
“I knew it, too. I thought it would take longer.”
“This is going to get out of hand.”
“It is.”
“You’d better get down there.”
14 Fourteen
Women Overthrowing Male Boundaries, or WOMB as the members preferred, was in the house when I parked behind Eliot’s shop and made my way to Main Street. I didn’t want to risk getting a ticket for parking at a meter — and the odds the street might be shut down at some point if things got out of hand were high — so I decided to play things smart.
When I rounded the corner, I found Eliot in front of his shop, arms crossed. He didn’t appear surprised to see me, but his eyes were on the WOMB hoopla. The name was a deliberate choice by a group of women who were ready to fight the good fight … and it made me laugh every time I heard it.
“Hey. Did you see this?” Eliot gestured toward the crowd.
I nodded at the huge signs being erected on top of a bus. The biggest read “The future is female,” but some of the others were entertaining as well. “If we send one man to the moon, why not send them all?” I read out loud.
“You would miss me if I lived on the moon.”
I slid him a sidelong look. “I’m still mad at you for the girlfriend ban.”
“Hey, I didn’t make that rule. I’m trying to find a way around it.”
I mostly believed him, although Fish’s thoughts regarding Eliot’s need for private space niggled at the back of my brain. “Do you want a man cave at the house?”
The question caught him off guard. “To eat my prey?”
I shrugged. “To have a place to retreat; where I’m not allowed.”
He worked his mouth as he absently slid a strand of hair behind my ear. “May I ask where this line of questioning came from?” he asked after a beat.
“I told Fish about the ‘no girlfriends at the range’ thing. He thinks maybe you thought better of inviting me into your personal space and made up the rule on the fly.”
Eliot balked. “I did not. I’ve taken you there before.”
“Yes, but as you pointed out, we weren’t a couple then.”
“Which is why I wasn’t breaking rules.”
I held up my hand to silence him before he got up a full head of steam. I was the one more likely to fly off the handle in our relationship, but he was known to have his moments. “I’m not trying to start a fight. If you want a man cave, we’ll figure out how to get you one. We could build one of those shed things or something.”
“I don’t want a man cave.” He captured my hand. “We’re fine. Don’t turn this into some big thing. I’m going to find a way to get you to the range. If that doesn’t work, I’m going to find a way for you to approach Mike away from the range. I’m working on it.”
He seemed sincere, so I let it go. “This group that’s come in, it’s been getting a lot of press lately,” I said, shifting the conversation. “They’re an offshoot of the Me Too movement ... except they’re militant.”
“I know who they are.” Eliot turned serious, although he didn’t release my hand. Instead he squeezed it tighter. “They’re going to elevate the level of vitriol by a long shot.”
“Yeah. Part of me is looking forward to it.”
“The part that loves chaos,” he surmised.
“That’s the one.”
“And the other part?”
I stared at a woman carrying a sign that read “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” The letters were painted in a sparkly blue that almost made me laugh out loud. “The other part is worried,” I finally admitted. “Everything is coming together here, making a perfect storm of potential violence. Both sides are getting worked up.”
He moved his hand to my back. “You’re going to be careful?”
“I’m always careful.”
“Don’t make jokes.”
“If I don’t have jokes, I’ll lose my head.” I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Try not to be embarrassed by the fact that you have a girlfriend, okay? Eventually you’ll get over it and maybe even learn to like it.”
He scowled. “You’re not even remotely funny.”
“That was a little funny,” I countered. “The faces you make are hilarious.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He grabbed the front of my shirt and hauled me to my tiptoes before I could make my escape. “This is going to be a good test for the compromising we’ve been practicing. If you need backup, call me. I will help you, no questions asked.”
“No questions asked?” I was dubious. “Really?”
“If that’s what it takes. I know you can’t back down on this. You’re too far gone. You’re right about things turning dangerous, though. I would rather swallow my questions and help than risk something happening to you.”
“I’ve got everything under control for now,” I supplied, grinning when I saw a new sign join the fray. “‘Some women fear the fire. Some women simply become it.’ That’s kind of like me, huh?”
“Yes, and that’s only one of the reasons you sometimes terrify me.”
“This story was built for me.” I meant it. “I need to dig deeper.”
“Be careful. There’s still a shooter out there. Don’t forget that.”
“I could never forget that. But no girlfriends are allowed at the gun range, so I have to focus my efforts elsewhere.”
Eliot’s glare was pronounced. “You’re never going to let me forget this, are you?”
“Nope. Sixty years from now, when we’re sitting in rockers and arguing about virtual reality games, I’ll still be bringing it up.”
He smirked. “At least we’re there together in sixty years. That’s progress, huh?”
It really was.
SERENA WH
ITLOCK, THE LEADER of WOMB, was directing traffic in the middle of the courtyard when I managed to track her down. At first, when I tapped her on the shoulder, she treated me in a dismissive manner.
“There are signs in the van,” she announced, as though for the millionth time, not making eye contact.
“I’m not here for a sign,” I replied, tugging my notebook out of my pocket. “I’m with The Monitor. I’m here to do a piece on the protest.”
“Really?” Her eyes gleamed as she turned to face me. “You’re Avery Shaw.”
I was blown away. “You know who I am?”
“I contacted the other groups in this area so they would be aware that we planned to invade and help them turn the tide of public support. I asked about media coverage. Your name was the first to pop up.”
That was flattering ... maybe. “I’ve garnered a certain reputation in this area,” I admitted. “I’m dogged when it comes to a story.”
“I’ve heard that. You’re also exactly the sort of person we’re looking for. I mean ... you are a woman succeeding in an old boys’ club profession. You’re at the top of your game and everyone in the county knows you. You’d be a great asset to our movement.”
Uh-oh. I should’ve seen that coming. “I’m flattered you would think that.” That was true. “The thing is, I can’t insert myself into issues ... at least not the way you want me to. I agree with your cause. Believe me, I much prefer your side to the other. That doesn’t mean I can do what you’re asking.
“If I were to join with the movement who would cover the story?” I asked. “I have a feeling I know which person from my newspaper would get it, and there’s no way I would allow him within a hundred feet of this situation. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.”
“I guess that’s fair.” Serena didn’t seem annoyed by my refusal to join the cause. Instead, she handed a sign that read “No one is free while others are oppressed” to a woman scurrying by. “Do you need something specific from me for your article?”
That was a loaded question. “Yeah. My head is all over the place right now. There’s a lot going on.”
“Because of the trial?”
“Because of the shooting,” I corrected. “So far, the trial has been nothing more than a minor distraction in comparison to the other stuff. The shooting, however, is troubling.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Not much,” I admitted. “I’ve interviewed two of the victim’s ex-wives and his son. I’ve also interacted with his father, who has decided to become the face of the opposition.” I shot a derisive look across the way, to where John was holding court with a small knot of men. He seemed to be in his element and having a good time.
“That’s John Crawford?” Serena asked, following my gaze.
“Yup.”
“I wondered. He’s been giving us ‘the look’ all morning.”
“He’s a real piece of work. Although ... he managed to pull himself together much faster than I would’ve reckoned. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Perhaps he’s merely putting on a good show.”
“Perhaps.”
“Or perhaps he was putting on a good show when you met and he decided to switch tactics.”
That was an interesting thought. “Yeah, well ... .” I trailed off when Jake drifted into view. He stood in the center of things, his hands planted on his narrow hips, and his messy bird’s nest of hair looking especially expansive today. “I’ll be right back.”
“Who is that?” Serena asked, intrigued. “He’s ... pretty.”
It was hardly the first time I’d heard Jake referred to in such a manner. He was pretty. Like, ridiculously so. He was also about to lay down the law. I could tell by his stance. “That is the sheriff and something tells me he’s about to make both sides of this equation unhappy. I need to talk to him before that.”
“Good luck. I’ll try to soften him up after the fact.”
“I doubt that will work, but ... it doesn’t hurt to try.” Jake saw me approaching before I even opened my mouth in greeting and immediately started shaking his head. “That doesn’t look like happiness to see me,” I groused.
“I’m rarely happy to see you.”
I pursed my lips and waited for the inevitable apology.
“That was mean,” he said after a beat. “I’m often happy to see you ... when you’re going after someone else instead of me. But I’m obviously on your list of conquests today, and I don’t have time for it.”
“What makes you think I want to beat you?”
“I’m not new. Other than Derrick, I’ve known you the longest. You can’t hide your intentions from me.”
“My intentions are actually muddled today,” I admitted. “I’m not sure where I’m going to focus my energy. WOMB coming to town is a big deal. What do you make of that?”
“They’re going to be trouble.”
“There’s already trouble on both sides,” I pointed out. “It’s only a matter of time before the trouble ratchets up a notch.”
“I know. That’s why I’m bringing in the county tactical team to take over security in the courtyard.”
I was flabbergasted. The county tactical team was the most trained riot squad in his arsenal. The members were all big-muscled badasses who acted first and asked questions later. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” I asked finally.
“I don’t see where I have much choice.” Jake’s expression was dark. “If I don’t allow both sides to protest, I’ll be on the hook for potential lawsuits because citizens have a right to assemble. If I let this keep going, odds are somebody will get hurt ... and that’s on top of the man who has already been killed. If the protestors get out of hand, we could have a mass-casualty situation. I’m really in a pickle.”
I could see that. “If they’re forced into action things could get even uglier.”
“What do you suggest I do?”
I didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, I briefly rested my hand on his elbow and gave him a squeeze. “Good luck.”
“Thanks. I’ll definitely need it. What you need is to be careful.”
I groaned and rubbed my forehead. “You sound like Eliot.”
“That’s not an insult ... and he wants to make sure you’re safe. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah, well ... .”
“Stay out of trouble,” Jake warned, wagging a finger for emphasis. “I have my hands full as it is. I don’t need you adding to the mess.”
“I’ll see if I can manage it.”
“You do that.”
I NEEDED A BREAK FROM THE chanting and yelling less than an hour after I reached the courthouse. I kept one ear to the ground and knew they were taking a break from the court proceedings while the prosecutor and defense attorney duked it out over a procedural issue. That didn’t mean the people downstairs were taking a break ... so I needed to step away from the din and regroup.
On the side of the building, in the place where they tucked smokers away so their dirty little secret remained hidden, I found Bart Savage. He sat at one of the picnic tables in the tiny alcove, and I was so surprised to find him sitting alone that I did a double take as I searched for his security representatives.
They didn’t appear to be present.
I made up my mind on the spot and approached him. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here alone,” I offered as I slid onto the bench across from him. He didn’t jump at my arrival or lob an annoyed look in my direction. Instead, he merely stared with a bland look on his face. “You could get hurt if those feminists find out you’re hanging around out here.”
Instead of zinging me with a comeback — or popping off one of his catchphrases — he merely shrugged. “Maybe that would put an end to the ugliness.”
His voice was low, almost weak, and I was legitimately taken aback. “What’s your deal?” I asked after a beat. “I thought you were all ‘I shall breathe fire and burn your village to the
ground.’”
For the first time since I joined him, a ghost of a smile played at the corners of Savage’s lips. “Why do you look familiar? Do I know you?”
“Perhaps I’m the woman of your nightmares.”
“No, that’s not it. I know what she looks like and you’re not wearing a pantsuit.”
I frowned. “My name is Avery Shaw. I’m a reporter with The Monitor.”
“Ah, yes.” Recognition dawned on Savage’s face. “You have quite the reputation, young lady.”
He was only ten years older than me so the “young lady” bit irked. “I worked hard for my reputation.”
“Is it well-earned?”
“Most definitely.”
He met my gaze without blinking. It was almost like a round of that childhood game, Whoever Blinks First Loses, but he finally shifted his eyes and focused on the highway traffic buzzing behind us. “This trial isn’t what I thought it would be,” he admitted after a beat. “This is off the record, by the way. I’m not granting you an interview.”
“That’s fine.” I would’ve loved an interview, but there was no way I intended to beg for it. “We’re just two strangers talking in the smoking pit of the local courthouse. Two normal Joes enjoying the day. Two ... .”
He shot me a rueful look. “There’s no need to keep talking if you have nothing to say.”
The jab hit true. “Then how do you have a radio show?”
Instead of being offended, he barked out a laugh. “Oh, I like you. I think we’re going to be marvelous friends.”
“Dude, every single thing you say makes my skin crawl,” I admitted. “I don’t fit into the lifestyle you’re preaching.”
“Perhaps that life is an illusion.”
It was an interesting suggestion. “Do you know what’s going on in front of the building?” I changed course. “WOMB is here now. They’re bringing in hundreds of protesters. The sheriff is utilizing the tactical team, which means if things get ugly they’ll take everyone into custody. Things are about to get rough.”
Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14) Page 14
