Ally gripped her hands together. “You’re mistaken,” she offered lamely. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw.”
“I saw you let him into your house.”
“We only talked,” she said. “He wanted to discuss the court case. I’ve been having … um, difficulty … dealing with everything that’s been going on. He just wanted to see if there was a way we could move past this.
“Obviously I don’t want that getting around,” she continued. “If people know that I’m talking to him after what happened … well, they’ll crucify me. I don’t want to deal with that. Nobody would.”
“Yeah, here’s the thing about me: I’m a busybody,” I said. “I figured you would make up a story like this, so I looked through your windows. I saw you guys going at it. He’s … enthusiastic, isn’t he? He doesn’t show a lot of imagination but he’s definitely enthusiastic … like a jackhammer but without the finesse.”
Ally’s mouth dropped open. “You watched us do … that?”
“Not for long,” I admitted. “I was a little uncomfortable with the way his bare butt glowed in the warm glimmer of the rapidly-dropping sun. He really should try some self-tanner or something. The orange look is bad, but that white butt thing is distracting. Maybe you should try getting him a tinted moisturizer.”
“I … .” Frustration flowed off Ally in waves. “I can’t believe you watched us. Do you have any idea how invasive that is?”
“I wouldn’t have watched if you weren’t doing something wrong.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
I merely shrugged. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I know you’re doing the dirty with your purported rapist and I’m not leaving until you tell me exactly what’s going on.
“Now, you don’t have to invite me in,” I continued. “You can leave me out here and ignore me. Or you can call the cops. That’s certainly your right. I will spread my knowledge far and fast if you do either of those things.”
“So … you’re blackmailing me?”
“That’s an ugly word.”
“What would you call it?”
“I didn’t say it was the wrong word.”
Ally swished her jaw back and forth as she considered my offer. Finally, she pushed open the door to allow me entrance. “You’re a horrible person.”
“Yup. At least I’m not a vampire, right?”
ALLY LED ME INTO HER living room and threw herself in the armchair at the edge of the cluttered space. She didn’t offer refreshments, which was a bit of a bummer given my hangover, but I wasn’t expecting world-class hospitality.
“What do you want?” she said when I didn’t immediately launch into my questions.
“I want to know what’s going on.”
“I already told you.”
“You told me a bunch of nonsense.”
“You don’t know that it’s nonsense.”
“I know what I saw.” I refused to back down. “Is he intimidating you? Threatening you, perhaps? If he is, tell me and we’ll figure a way to get you out of whatever trouble you’re facing. If he has dirt on you … well … I’m sure we can find a way around that.”
“He’s not threatening me.” Ally made a face as she dragged a restless hand through her hair. “Why would you assume he’s threatening me?”
“Because you’re on record accusing him of a rape.”
“Yeah, but … I see what you’re saying.” She looked tired. The defeat on her face made me feel bad … but not bad enough to cease questioning her.
“Did Savage rape you?”
She leveled her gaze on me, defiant. “I said he did.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.” I refused to back down. “Something very odd is going on here. I have a number of ideas, but each one is even weirder than the previous. Just tell me what’s going on and we’ll go from there.”
She sucked in a steadying breath. “If I do that – tell you what you want to hear – will you let it go?”
“No.” I opted for honesty. “It’s not about what I want to hear. It’s about the truth.”
“And you care about the truth?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I was five feet away from Dan Crawford when he was shot. He died right in front of me … so close to me I could’ve probably touched him if I stretched.”
“Bart didn’t have anything to do with that,” she whined. “I didn’t either.”
“I don’t know that. Neither do you. I can only track information when I have leads. Right now, you’re my lead. You need to spill or I’ll call the sheriff’s department and volunteer the information I discovered.”
She wasn’t ready to cave, at least not yet. “If you do that, you’ll be admitting to trespassing. You’ll be arrested.”
“I wasn’t joking when I said it wouldn’t be the first time. The thing with a threat is that you have to be willing to back it up. I’m willing to back it up.”
Ally held my gaze for a long time. “I … .”
“Tell me or I’ll call Sheriff Farrell.” I had no intention of backing down. “If that happens, your interlude last night will be front-page news tomorrow. Is that what you want?”
“You’re not giving me a way to alleviate that possibility.”
“I can’t make you promises when I don’t know what you’re about to tell me,” I pointed out. “Tell me and we’ll go from there. I can say I will do my very best not to unfairly hurt you. That’s all I can promise.”
She let loose a quiet moan, looked to the ceiling, and then flipped me off. “Fine. But I hate you.”
I had to admire her backbone. She really was funny. “I can live with that.”
“This – all of it – is a fabrication.” She exhaled a shaky breath after uttering the words and I swear she looked lighter. “There. I said it.”
“Good for you.” I smiled. “Now I need you to tell me exactly what’s been fabricated.”
“All of it,” she barked, fury whipping through her eyes. “The story … the rapes … the sexual harassment. All of it was drummed up as a publicity stunt.”
I shifted on the couch, moving one leg over the other. “That doesn’t make much sense,” I argued after a moment’s contemplation. “Why would someone fabricate three rapes as a publicity stunt?”
“Because that’s what Bart wanted.”
My mind worked furiously to catch up. “I need you to be more specific.”
“Ugh. And here I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
“I will describe his white behind in great detail when I do interviews for the news media,” I threatened. “I will also tell everyone he makes barking noises and you moo like a cow.”
Ally was horrified. “I do not!”
“Yes, but everyone will eat it up if I tell that story.”
Astounded, she leaned back in her chair. “You really are the worst.”
“I have business cards that say the same,” I agreed.
“It was Bart’s idea from the start,” she volunteered. “We’ve been together for a year. We’re in love. We’re going to get married.”
“So he asked you to file a rape complaint?” That had to be the dumbest idea I’d ever heard.
“It wasn’t supposed to go that far,” Ally argued. “I was supposed to claim sexual harassment and then it would be revealed that I exaggerated the story. Bart would be vindicated in his time of need and his ratings would go through the roof.”
“You claimed rape, though.”
“I said that I was too drunk to consent and the cops called it rape,” she clarified. “That wasn’t the word I used.”
“If you were too drunk to consent then it was rape.”
“I didn’t know that was a thing.” She looked helpless. “I was claiming sexual harassment and then it got out of control. I told Bart I was going to recant but he told me to wait. His ratings w
ere going through the roof and people thought he was being railroaded. It was working.”
“And then two more people came forward with rape accusations,” I surmised, things clicking into place. “Diane Mullen and Hannah Bolton went to the police and told them similar stories. Suddenly Savage was no longer in control of the narrative.”
“But they’re lying,” Ally argued. “They’re telling a story that’s not true.”
I thought back to what I’d witnessed in the courtroom. “How sure of that are you?”
“Um … very.”
“Would you stake your life on it? Their futures?”
“I … you … yes.” Her voice softened. “I’m not going to pretend that Bart is perfect. He’s not. He has issues. A lot of people have issues. He’s not a rapist.”
“I heard Bolton give testimony this morning. She sounded believable.”
“Well, she’s not.”
“And you know this how?”
“Because I know Bart,” she practically exploded. “You don’t spend a year with a man and not know him. If those women are telling the truth, that means he lied to me hundreds of times.”
“And you think that’s out of the realm of possibility.”
“I definitely do,” she agreed. “He’s a wonderful man. He believes in family values. He wants to marry me.”
“Is that what this is all about? You want to get married and think he’s a good catch because he has money. Am I right?”
“He is a good catch. We’re going to be together forever.”
I had my doubts. “You weren’t with him every hour of the day,” I persisted. “You don’t know what he was capable of. Have you considered he came up with this idea and pitched you as the star because he knew he could win? Once one not-guilty verdict was rendered, anyone else bringing charges would look suspect. It’s kind of a diabolical plan when you think about it.”
“That’s not him.” She refused to back down. “You don’t know him. He’s a sweet man. He would never do what they’ve accused him of.”
“Some people might say you’re in denial.”
“I’m not.”
“This is the answer to the riddle, though,” I mused.
“What riddle?”
“Why you don’t want to testify. You realize that this isn’t going to be a slam dunk. You’re going to have no choice but to come out and say you lied.”
“I’m prepared to do that. It’s the truth.”
“And what do you think is going to happen after that?” I asked. “Do you think you’ll still get married and live happily ever after?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because then he would be marrying the woman who abused him,” I replied without hesitation. “He can’t do that. He’ll look weak in front of his followers. You’re the enemy now. You’ll be the enemy when news breaks that you lied. He’ll ditch you faster than a dieter gives up bread.”
“I … no.” Ally said the single word, infused emotion into it, but the way her features shifted told me she’d finally seen the awful truth. That didn’t mean she was ready to give up the dream that had been fueling her for months. “That won’t happen.”
“It will. You know it.” I slowly got to my feet. “Geez. I knew the guy was a weasel but this is just ridiculous. The planning he must have put into this.”
“He’s innocent.”
“I’m still not sure of that. I need to do some research. I’ll be back.”
“Don’t come back.” She was firm. “I really will call the cops if you come back.”
“Then it will be a rowdy visit.”
22 Twenty-Two
I was an agitated mess by the time I returned to Eliot’s shop.
Fawn, who stood in the middle of the retail space saying something while wiggling her hips, shot me a withering look as I strolled through the door. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Eliot smirked at her tone. “That’s my Kitten,” he teased, holding his smile for a beat before sobering. “What’s going on?”
I opened my mouth to answer — I had every intention of letting it all spew out — and then snapped it shut as Fawn drew my attention with her twitching rear end.
“I’m not done telling my story, Eliot,” she whined.
Eliot followed my gaze, understanding dawning. “That’s okay,” he said. “I need to talk to Avery in private. You can tell me the rest of your fascinating story about cheerleading camp tomorrow.”
Fawn loosed a pronounced pout. “But I want to tell it now.”
“And I need to talk to Avery.” Eliot was firm as he closed the ledger book he was making notations in. “It’s almost three,” he noted. “Why don’t you take off early? You’re young and it’s Friday. Don’t you have somewhere you want to be?”
“Not really. I thought I would hang out with you all afternoon.”
“Well ... I’m going to hang out with Avery.” Eliot winked at me before continuing. “She obviously has something she wants to talk about. You can go — don’t worry about the hours; I’ll pay you for the two you missed — and I will close up. We’re leaving from here to go to dinner with Avery’s family anyway.”
“Yes, your regular Friday night meal plan.” Fawn’s expression was dour. “I don’t understand why you do that every week.”
“It’s kowtow to the whims of my family or die,” I replied, matter-of-fact. “We’re like that family in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre ... only my grandfather can hold his own hammer.”
Fawn screwed her face up in a ridiculous expression. “I don’t understand.”
“Ignore her,” Eliot ordered, shaking her head. “She’s talking about a movie that was made years before you were born.”
“It was made before I was born, too,” I reminded him. “I simply tracked it down because I care about good cinema.”
He snickered. “Right.” His eyes flicked back to Fawn. “You don’t have to stay. Go. I can close up, and that will allow Avery and me to talk freely.”
Most people would’ve jumped at the chance to leave early — with full pay, mind you — on a Friday afternoon. Fawn was another story.
“You might need me to watch the front of the shop if something comes up,” she wheedled. “I’m your right-hand woman here. Remember when we made that joke?”
She was getting a bit desperate and it bothered me. “Did you make jokes about her and your hand, Eliot?” I asked pointedly.
He shot me a warning look. “Don’t make things worse.”
“Whatever. Maybe I should just go.” I gestured toward the front door. “I have huge news to share, but let’s talk about Fawn being your right-hand idiot. That makes perfect sense.”
“Hey!” Fawn’s eyes fired. “I live a busy and interesting life.”
“You should have a shirt made up with that saying.”
“I just might do that.”
Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose. He disliked it when Fawn and I turned his shop into a war zone. He was obviously already at his limit. “Fawn, I need you to go. I don’t care what you do, but you’re done here for the day.”
Her lower lip jutted out. “But ... you need my help.”
“I really don’t.” He forced a smile. “Believe it or not, I can run the shop by myself for the next two hours. I need to talk to Avery about a private matter ... so go.”
Fawn waited a beat, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, and then she forced a smile that was more deranged than earnest. “Of course. I’ll just grab my purse.”
Her demeanor was stiff as she moved to the area behind the counter and bent over, her face disappearing from view. I used the opportunity to share an amused look with Eliot, who merely shook his head in quiet admonishment. The message was clear: Don’t mess with her on the way out.
It took everything I had not to do just that.
“I think I’ll check out the protest,” she announced as she approached the door. “I’m interested in the cause — I think women should t
ake care of their men — and I want to make sure an innocent man isn’t railroaded.” She shot me a pointed look. “That’s the most important thing, right?”
“I think it’s more important that those making the signs learn to spell,” I drawled, ignoring the way Eliot’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “If the signs aren’t grammatically correct then I simply can’t get behind the cause.”
She scowled. “You’re impossible to be around. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Believe it or not, you’re not the first person I’ve come across today to express that sentiment.” I offered up a finger wave as she flounced through the door, waiting until it swung shut to focus on Eliot. “You really need to fire her.”
“I’m working on it.” He sobered. “She’s going to sue. We both know it. I can’t keep her here because she won’t stop attacking you. Once I let her go, though, I have to be ready for a lawsuit. That’s why I’m letting her stick around a bit longer, so I can gather evidence.”
I rested my elbows on the counter as I met his gaze. “You don’t have to fire her. I mean ... it’s not fair for you to get sued because I can’t play nice with her. Keep her around. I love messing with people and she’s hardly the only one to give me a hard time on a daily basis.”
“No.” He was firm as he shook his head. “You haven’t been coming into the shop as much lately because you want to avoid her — this week notwithstanding because of the protests — and I don’t want that. You should feel welcome here. Plus, well, I like it when you stop in to surprise me throughout the day. It’s like getting a small fix ... even if you only stop by to rant.”
That was kind of sweet. Still ... . “If she’s going to sue you, though, it’s a risk you shouldn’t have to take. You didn’t do this.”
“I did. I hired her, which was clearly a mistake.”
“You hired her because of her boobs and butt, didn’t you? Come on. You can admit it.”
He chuckled. “I hired her because I thought she would appeal to men,” he clarified. “That was wrong. I don’t know if it’s following this trial or spending a lot of time with you that’s caused the change of heart, but I realize that I should’ve hired on the basis of personality and skill ... not looks.”
Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14) Page 21
