“I’m guessing that’s a side benefit.” He watched me stalk toward the door. “I take it you’re going over there.”
“You bet I’m going over there.”
“I can’t until Fawn gets here to take over the floor. Please don’t pick a fight so I’ll be forced to leave the place unwatched to protect your honor.”
I jerked open the door and glared at him. “I don’t need you to protect my honor. I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”
Eliot didn’t look convinced. “Don’t mouth off to the wrong person.”
“Do I ever?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I disappeared through the door without another word — or a backward glance — and stomped across the street. Mario noticed me coming before Grandpa and whispered something to him as I closed the distance. In response, Grandpa merely arched an eyebrow and continued talking to John.
“We thought it was important to feed you guys,” he said. “Protesting is tiring business. We’ll be here all day to make sure you have food and refreshments.”
John beamed at him. “This is truly a great idea. It’s nice to have someone in a power position who believes in the cause.” He held up a fist for Grandpa to bump.
Clearly uncomfortable, Grandpa spared me a glance. “Oh, well, we’re not taking sides.”
John obviously hadn’t noticed me because he kept his gaze on Grandpa. “I get what you’re saying.” He tapped the side of his nose. “You have to be neutral. If you don’t serve the chicks then you’ll get arrested for not bowing down to the vagina.”
Ugh. What was that supposed to mean? “I think my grandfather bows to the vagina more than he wants to admit,” I interjected, the words escaping before I thought better about uttering them. The last thing I wanted was to share a conversation with John, and now that was inevitable.
The man turned slowly, his eyes darkening when he realized I was standing behind him. “Your grandfather?” He didn’t look happy with the realization. “Why would your grandfather be here?”
“Because he’s an entrepreneur,” I replied without hesitation. “He likes making money.”
“Who doesn’t?” John’s gaze was searing. “I thought maybe you were off this story. I haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“You two know each other?” Grandpa asked, his eyes darting between us. “How so?”
“This is Dan Crawford’s father,” I explained.
“And that’s the dead guy?”
John wrenched his gaze back to my grandfather. “He was a patriot, not some ‘the dead guy.’”
Grandpa held up his hands. “I didn’t mean it in an insulting manner.”
“How did you mean it?”
“Ignore him,” I instructed Grandpa, jerking my thumb toward John. “He can’t help himself from being a tool. He’s been on his best behavior in public for the past few days. I think the act is wearing thin.”
“Now you wait just a gosh-darned minute.” John reached out to grab my arm but I was expecting the move and easily sidestepped him, keeping distance between us.
“Don’t even think about touching me,” I warned.
“Definitely not,” Grandpa agreed. “If you touch her, I’m going to touch you ... although not in a dirty way. I just realized how that sounded.” Grandpa peered through the food truck order window and snagged my gaze. “He doesn’t think I want to get sexual with him, does he?”
It was such a surreal moment I could do nothing but laugh. “I think you’re safe.”
“And I think I’ve had it with your mouth,” John warned, extending a finger. “I don’t like your attitude. You’ve been nothing but a pain from the start.”
That was rich coming from him. “We’ve seen each other once,” I reminded him. “You were drinking in your driveway and acting like the world’s biggest jackhole. The next thing I knew, you were all spiffed up and handling a news conference like a pro. It was all very ... odd.”
“You’re odd,” he fired back.
“I’m definitely odd,” I agreed, taking a moment to calm myself before barreling forward. “Have you talked to the police? They’ve been digging on your son’s murder. I’m wondering if they’ve gotten any answers.”
“Why don’t you ask them?”
“Because you’re here and it seems more convenient to ask you.”
“Well ... I wouldn’t share that information with you even if I had it,” John snapped. “I don’t like you.”
“You don’t have to like me.” I meant it, because I certainly didn’t like him. In fact, he made my skin crawl. “I don’t suppose you could take your attitude over to your friends and play with them, could you? I have a few things I want to discuss with my grandfather and cousin.”
“And what if I don’t want to go?”
“Then I’ll be forced to start talking about tampons and feminine napkins,” I replied without hesitation. “You have no idea how much material I’ve been saving up for a rainy day.”
“You’re disgusting.” John was appalled. “I mean ... absolutely disgusting.”
“That’s why I always win.”
Instead of continuing the argument, John opted to slink away. The look he shot me over his shoulder promised we were nowhere done with one another. For now, I pushed him out of my mind and focused on Grandpa and Mario.
“Are you guys crazy?” I couldn’t keep the accusation out of my voice as I glared at them. “Why would you possibly come here?”
“Look around,” Grandpa ordered, stern. “We have a captive audience. These people are going to be working up an appetite. Do you have any idea how much money we’re going to be raking in for a couple hours of work?”
I narrowed my eyes, suspicious. “So ... you’re just here for the money?”
“What else would we be here for?”
“Well, Mario is looking for dates,” I replied.
“I’m still looking for dates,” Mario supplied. “This is a target-rich environment. These women want to be loved. The key is to love them like a romance novel hero.”
“Oh, geez.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“And I don’t think it matters what you think,” Grandpa argued. “You’re not my keeper, kid.”
“You realize the courthouse isn’t even open today, right?” I pressed. “These people are here because they want to fight. Savage is not on trial. It’s Saturday. There are no court sessions on Saturday.”
Grandpa straightened. The reality obviously hadn’t occurred to him. “Oh, well ... huh. I didn’t even think about that.”
I wasn’t surprised. “The people who are here today aren’t gathering because they’re invested in the trial. They’re gathering because they’re invested in the cause.”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing,” he hedged.
“Not right now, no. But when things explode? That is going to happen. There’s no ‘if’ about it. It’s only a matter of when.”
“If you’re so worried, why are you here?” Grandpa challenged. “You don’t have to work on Saturdays.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was hiding behind a wall of guilt and worry, though, so he couldn’t see the truth. I was fine with that, comfortable even. “I want to be here when things explode,” I answered simply. “I think it’s going to be chaos.”
“And chaos makes good news copy,” he mused.
“It does,” I agreed. “You need to promise me something if you’re going to stay here.”
“Actually, I don’t need to promise you anything,” Grandpa countered. “I’m an adult. I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”
“I’ll call Jake,” I threatened. “I’ll tell him you’re stirring up trouble. He doesn’t have to allow you to stay here.”
Grandpa’s expression darkened. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
We stared at one another for a long beat. He was the first to re
lent.
“Fine.” He groaned as he shifted from one foot to the other. “What do you want me to promise you?”
“That if things get rough, if it gets dangerous, that you’ll close up shop and protect yourselves.”
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you going to do the same?”
“To the best of my ability. Believe it or not, I don’t like getting punched in the face or shot at.”
“Then why are you here?” Grandpa asked. “Why are you pushing things on a weekend?”
“I don’t have a choice. There’s a big pile of truth out there and I need to find it. I can’t turn back now.”
“That’s because you’re a pain in the butt.” Grandpa was resigned as he rolled his shoulders. “We won’t insert ourselves into the situation. We’ll be watchful in case there’s an issue.”
I was relieved. “That’s all I ask.”
“But if I see you in trouble, I might have to intervene. I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”
“Because I’m a girl and need protecting?” I asked pointedly.
“Because you inherited my mouth and you’re terrible with boundaries.”
That was a better answer than I expected. “I’ll be around. Don’t push these people to say or do anything crazy. They’re primed for it without your help.”
“Right back at you, kid.”
25 Twenty-Five
I always hated babysitting.
As the oldest female cousin in my generation, I was stuck with that duty regularly until my aunts and uncles realized I was ill-equipped for the job. After that, they never asked me again unless it was an emergency ... and even that option was removed at a certain point because they deemed I was bad under pressure.
For some reason, keeping a watchful eye on my old-school grandfather and emotionally-challenged cousin felt like babysitting. I wanted someone to take the responsibility away from me.
“I don’t like this,” I groused when Jake joined me in the space behind the truck. There was a line fifty people long waiting for food and drinks. Mario and Grandpa were making money hand over fist ... and the two sides were growing more and more vocal with one another while waiting for their turns to order.
“I can see why you don’t like this.”
I smelled something familiar, and when I glanced to my left I realized Jake had a fresh burger in his hand that he was enthusiastically munching while watching the crowd. “Traitor.”
He smirked. “Your grandfather may be a massive pain, but he’s a fine cook. I remember when he used to make burgers for us all the time when we were kids.”
It felt like a different life. “He said some things to me last night that ... bothered me.”
Jake kept eating, but pinned his eyes to me.
I told him about the previous evening’s dinner. When I was done, instead of commiserating with me he laughed so hard I thought he might choke on his burger. “It’s not funny,” I complained.
“Oh, it’s a little funny.” He rubbed the back of his hand over his cheek. “You know your grandfather respects you. He thinks you’re the one most like him.”
“Yes, but he’d prefer if the one most like him was a boy. He’s so disappointed Derrick isn’t the one like him he can hardly see straight.”
“I think you’re seeing what you want to see because you’re crabby.”
“And I think you’re annoying me.”
He sighed, his shoulders hopping. “Fine. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Great idea. How are things going with Lauren?”
His expression shifted quickly. “Good.”
I waited. When he didn’t expound, I decided to prod him. “Good like ‘She’s great in bed but incapable of watching a movie without repeating lines to the point you want to strangle her’ or good like ‘She makes you see little floating hearts when you look at her’?”
He shot me a dark look. “Good like it’s none of your business.”
Oh, please. If he thought that was going to work he had another think coming. “I like her.”
He avoided my pointed gaze. “I know you do.”
“I picked her out for you. She’s like a less-obnoxious version of me.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s weird and we’re in a delicate place when it comes to balancing things right now,” he answered honestly. “Eliot and I are good. I wasn’t sure we would get there, but we did. We’re friends again despite the fact that we fell out years ago over something that had nothing to do with you. I thought there was a chance we might fall out again, but it’s worked out relatively well.
“He’s good for you, puts up with your crap in a way I never could, and somehow manages to rein you in when you’re about to go off the rails,” he continued. “Things were tense when I was dating Cara. Most of that is on me. I saw her spiraling and didn’t do anything about it when it was still early and things might’ve ended up different. But they’re better now. I don’t want to ruin that.”
I pursed my lips, considering. “That’s a bunch of crap,” I said after a beat, taking him by surprise. “You just don’t want Lauren and me spending too much time together because it makes you uncomfortable. You’ll have to suck it up. I like her and it has nothing to do with you.”
He sighed. “You make me tired, Avery.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many people say that to me on any given day.”
“Yeah, well ... .” He trailed off, his eyes going to the food truck. “You know what I find interesting?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
He ignored my sarcasm. “I think it’s interesting that you had an argument with your grandfather last night and he’s suddenly here today, in the middle of a volatile situation where you could easily be a target, and he has a clear view of the courtyard.”
“I ... what?” I was confused.
“Do you have any idea what time he must have been here to snag that spot? He can see everything from that vantage point.”
“Yes, and everyone can see him and order food.”
“They can,” he agreed. “The thing is, while your grandfather enjoys making money — and irritating people to the point they want to cry, something you inherited from him — I don’t think he’s here simply for the business potential.”
“Are you saying he’s here to watch me? To make sure I don’t get hurt?”
“That’s exactly why I think he’s here.”
I wasn’t sure I bought it, and yet the notion niggled at the back of my mind. “I think you’re giving him the benefit of the doubt when it’s probably something else entirely.”
“Maybe, but I happen to disagree. I’ve known him a long time.”
“So have I.”
“Yeah, but while you’re watching the crowd, he’s watching you,” Jake pointed out. “Not everything is black and white ... and just because you think something, that doesn’t always mean it’s true.”
He had a point, which was irritating. “Don’t you have a job to do?”
His smile was benign. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
THE PROTEST CHANTS WERE so loud I was fighting off a headache within an hour. I decided to take a break and walk around the block to clear my head. I texted Eliot my intentions so he wouldn’t worry. The shop was so full of customers he merely lifted his head and waved out the window after reading it.
I wasn’t much of a walker. My idea of exercising was playing in the pool, which was officially closed for the season. I had no idea how much I would miss it until the pool store employees showed up to cover it. Now it would be May before I saw it again. Eliot was making noise about us joining a local gym, but I planned to get earplugs before entertaining that idea.
Still, I hated overwhelming noise — like what was happening in front of the courthouse — more than I did walking. I meandered through the streets, which didn’t take long because downtown Mount
Clemens isn’t too large, and before I knew it I realized I was in the parking lot that faced the back of Jenny’s restaurant. Given the events of the past few days, I’d almost forgotten my earlier fixation with her.
Mike Baxter was in the back messing with the dumpster. He had two bags to hoist inside but apparently the trash receptacle was overflowing because he was rearranging things to fit. He seemed agitated, and he viciously swore when a bag tumbled from the top of the stack and landed on the ground.
“You need to get on the phone with the garbage company and get them out here, Jenny,” he barked, causing me to turn my attention to the open back door. It was early. The restaurant wasn’t due to open for at least another hour, but Jenny was obviously the sort who believed in extensive prep work.
She appeared in the opening, her hair swept back in a bun, and fixed him with an annoyed look. “You’re the head bartender. Why don’t you call them?”
“Because you’re the boss.”
She let loose a throaty chuckle. “That’s not what you said last night when we closed the place down.” The words were flirty, the intent obvious. The way she looked at him made me uncomfortable. I was standing in the middle of the parking lot, nowhere to hide other than behind a car, so I reacted the only way I could: I ducked down and hid. There was no way I intended to own up to the fact that I’d been eavesdropping.
Mike was so intent on his boss that he didn’t as much as look in my direction. Instead, he made a growling noise as he stalked closer to her, not waiting for an invitation before planting his lips on hers. They melted into each other, bad porn music playing in the back of my head, and I was debating if I could manage an escape while they were fixated on each other.
That’s when another voice joined the fray.
“You guys are so disgusting. I wish you would act your ages. I mean ... it’s like being in high school, and I should know because I was there a few years ago.”
I jerked my head to the side, my eyes going wide when I caught sight of Lily. Where had she come from? More importantly, why was she hanging out with Jenny? Were they friends? If so, they’d both managed to conveniently forget that little tidbit.
Above the Fold & Below the Belt (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 14) Page 24
