4 Shot Off The Presses

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4 Shot Off The Presses Page 19

by Amanda M. Lee


  Tad was so angry that spittle was actually pooling in the corner of his mouth. I didn’t give any ground, though. I wanted him to fly off the handle. I wanted him to go too far.

  “You sit there in your little cubicle at The Monitor and you think you’ve got me running scared,” Tad continued. “I don’t run scared. I’m not just going to be reelected to the commission; I’m going to be the head of it. I’m going to be the most powerful man in the county.”

  “Wouldn’t that be the county executive?” I asked dryly.

  “Not after I manage to save the National Guard base,” Tad shot back. He realized what he said the minute the words left his mouth. It was too late, though. They were out and I realized the importance of them even before he had registered the error in saying them.

  “The National Guard base is in danger of closing?” My mind was racing in about seven different directions right now. This was huge.

  “No,” Tad protested quickly. “That’s not what I said.”

  “How do you know the base is in danger?”

  The courthouse secretaries were now watching the two of us with wide-eyed wonder. The National Guard base was a major employer for the county. If it left, the county’s already precarious financial situation could become dire.

  “I misspoke,” Tad looked desperate. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “How are you going to save the base?” I pressed him. “What’s your plan?”

  “I’m done talking to you,” Tad’s face had gone ashen. “If I see a word of this in the paper, I’ll sue you.”

  “Good luck with that,” I smirked. “You’re going to have a lot on your plate in the next few weeks.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Tad challenged me angrily.

  Unlike Tad, I wouldn’t let anger rule me. I wasn’t going to tip my hand that I was also looking into his financials. “Have a good week,” I smiled brightly.

  “You’re going to leave this story alone, right?” Tad asked desperately.

  I cocked my head to the side. “I don’t know,” I said sneakily.

  “What do you want?” Tad sighed. “You want Christine Brady gone? Fine. I’ll make her gone.”

  He was really trying to blackmail me. “Oh, Tad,” I tsked. “Christine Brady is going to be gone because of public outcry. You know that. You weren’t counting on me pulling her financials. That was just stupid on your part. You forgot how incredibly petty I really am. Once I find her tie to your past, that’s just going to blow up in your face.”

  Tad clenched his jaw angrily.

  “I’m going after the base story now, too,” I continued. “I don’t need you for that either and you know it. You don’t have anything to offer me on that front.”

  Tad’s eyes were icy as he regarded me. “I wouldn’t mess with me, if I were you.”

  “You’re not me,” I laughed gaily. “And that’s not even all I have on you.”

  “What? You’re going to make me look like a racist again?” Tad looked bitter.

  “I guess you’ll have to wait to find out,” I teased. The day was definitely looking up.

  “I’ll call Fred Fish and make him put a muzzle on you,” Tad threatened.

  “Try,” I cajoled him. “See what happens.”

  “I’m not joking,” Tad pushed on. “You’ll be sorry you ever messed with me.”

  I took a step away from Tad, never letting the smile on my face falter. “May the best woman win,” I challenged him.

  “Avery, I’m not kidding. You’ll be sorry you got involved in this.”

  I had already tuned him out, though. It was like Christmas and I was the only child opening all the gifts under the tree.

  Twenty-Nine

  I wasn’t paying attention when I left the coffee shop. I had a café mocha in my hand, a smile on my face and malice on my mind when I felt two hands grip me and slam me into the wall outside of the coffee shop.

  “What the hell?”

  Tad forced me into the small alleyway between the coffee shop and Eliot’s pawnshop. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?” Tad looked far too pleased with himself.

  “No, I wasn’t expecting you to go crazy and attack me on the street. That’s my bad.”

  “You and I are going to come to a little agreement,” Tad seethed.

  “Let me go you crazy ass,” I slapped at Tad angrily. “Don’t touch me.”

  “That’s not what you said to me when we were in college,” Tad leaned in with a predatory smile.

  “I was stoned in college. I used to think potato chips on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich was a good idea, too,” I countered. “You get smarter as you get older. Well, most people,” I corrected myself. “You, apparently, just get dumber and dumber.”

  “You’re not going to write about the base,” Tad pressed me. “You’re going to let it go.”

  “Do you think you’re a Jedi Knight or something?” I scoffed. “This isn’t the story you’re looking for,” I mocked him.

  “I’m not joking with you,” Tad said. “You’re going to leave this alone.”

  “Did you just meet me? I’m not leaving this alone. I’m going to have this in the paper tomorrow. I can promise you that.”

  “No, you’re not,” Tad argued.

  “Yes, I am,” I replied. “You have nothing to threaten me with and you definitely haven’t built up any good will with me that would make me look the other way for a few days. So, my friend, you are screwed.”

  “I said no,” Tad grabbed my shoulders and shook me.

  Without even thinking, I raised my knee and slammed it into Tad’s groin. He grabbed his crotch and slipped to his knees, groaning in pain as he did so. “You bitch.”

  I took three steps backwards, thinking I was making my escape from the alley, but smacking into a surprise figure behind me. I gasped when I felt two hands grab my arms from behind to steady me. I swung around and felt relief wash over me when I saw Eliot standing there.

  “What are you doing?” Eliot asked curiously.

  I gestured to Tad. “He dragged me in here to try and scare me off from running a story.” I was a little nervous to be around Eliot, but I was also anxious to settle things with him. I couldn’t go another night without getting any sleep – and, apparently, he was fairly important to my efforts to achieve that goal.

  Eliot eyed Tad angrily. “You put your hands on her?”

  Tad was still cradling his groin and whimpering. He wasn’t so far gone, though, that he didn’t recognize the glint of anger that flashed across Eliot’s face. “I didn’t touch her,” Tad lied.

  “Then why are you holding your nuts like that?” Eliot queried.

  “She kicked me for no reason.”

  “You liar!”

  “I have trouble believing Avery found her way into that alley by herself,” Eliot said calmly. “It’s filthy and she’s lazy. She wouldn’t just wander in there.”

  “I don’t think I like what you’re accusing me of,” Tad stood up straighter. I could tell he was still in pain but he was trying to hide it.

  “I don’t think I like you period,” Eliot shot back. “Why don’t you find your way to your job and leave Ms. Shaw here with me to take care of?”

  “I’m not done talking to her,” Tad replied sharply.

  “Oh, you’re done talking to her,” Eliot took a step towards him. “You’re definitely done talking to her.”

  Tad shrank back, smacking into the alley wall as he did. “I’m leaving,” he grumbled, shooting me a death look. “You remember what I said. If you run that story, I’ll sue you.”

  “You can’t sue me because you’re the idiot that told me about the base possibly closing,” I countered. “That’s your fault, not mine.”

  Tad cursed under his breath and then left the alley via the far exit on the next street over. Once he was gone, Eliot turned to me awkwardly. “Are you okay? Or do I have to chase that little ferret down and beat the shit out of him?”

&
nbsp; “I’m fine,” I replied, suddenly nervous to be alone with Eliot. “He was never really a threat.”

  “He’s a dick,” Eliot muttered.

  “How did you even know we were over here?” I asked curiously.

  “I didn’t,” Eliot said. “I was leaving to run an errand and I saw your car. I thought you might be in the coffee shop, so I was going to look, when I caught sight of you here. I didn’t realize you weren’t alone right away,” Eliot admitted.

  I couldn’t hide the small smile that played at the corner of my lips. “You were going to look for me?”

  “Don’t get too cocky,” Eliot smiled. “I was just curious. I thought maybe you were here to talk to me.”

  I thought about making him fidget, but then I put myself in his position for a second and thought better of it. “I was here to see you,” I admitted. “I was trying to get some caffeine courage next door when I ran into Tad.”

  “And that obviously went well,” Eliot said.

  “Yeah, all the anger and lack of sleep kind of collided and then I let it explode all over him,” I shrugged sheepishly.

  Eliot ran his hands down the side of my face lightly, tracing the dark circles under my eyes and then pulled his hand away quickly. “Why didn’t you sleep?”

  One glance at his drawn and pale face told me that he hadn’t had a restful night of sleep either. “I was upset,” I replied honestly.

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Eliot sighed heavily. “I was frustrated and you didn’t deserve it.”

  “I deserved some of it,” I countered. “I just don’t think I deserved all of it.”

  Eliot grinned. “That’s some roundabout thinking there.”

  “So I’ve been told,” I laughed.

  Eliot’s face sobered after a second. “You were right about me being jealous of Jake.”

  “You were right about me being worried about upsetting Jake,” I said. “But I’m not worried for the reasons you think I am.”

  Eliot raised in eyebrows to show his interest. “What does that mean?”

  “Lexie and I had a long talk last night.”

  “Well, right away, I know I’m not going to like this conversation,” Eliot grumbled.

  “She took your side,” I taunted him.

  “She did not.”

  “She did, too.”

  “Well, then she’s back on drugs,” Eliot grumbled.

  “Eliot,” I sighed wearily, the weight of my sleepless night hitting me hard. “I can’t cut Jake out of my life, you know that. Our paths cross. It is what it is.”

  “I know,” Eliot nodded tiredly.

  “I can tell you that I’m not with Jake for a reason – and it’s not just because of you,” I said truthfully.

  Eliot cocked his head as he listened to me. “I’m not sure how to take that.”

  “I’m with you and I like being with you,” I admitted. “Even if I wasn’t with you, though, I wouldn’t be with Jake. Our lives don’t mesh. There’s too much water under the bridge. There’s no going forward there.”

  Eliot nodded stiffly. “I know that.”

  “Then you’ve got to let it go,” I cajoled him. “If we keep circling the same the fight then there’s going to be no going forward here either.”

  Eliot considered the statement. “I can’t promise that we’re not going to fight.”

  “I know. Promising that you’ll never get mad at me has no ring of truth to it.”

  “Oh, I can guarantee I’ll be mad at you again,” Eliot laughed. “Probably this week.”

  I frowned at him.

  “You’re a frustrating individual,” Eliot continued. “Don’t even try to act all wounded. You know you’re a walking headache.”

  “Then why even bother,” I muttered bitterly.

  “Maybe the payoff is worth it,” Eliot sighed, dropping his forehead to mine briefly. “No pain, no gain.”

  “So now I’m a walking platitude,” I pulled away and searched his gaze.

  Eliot gripped the front of my coat and pulled me towards him, dropping his mouth to mine possessively. I sank into the kiss, actually sighing sadly when he pulled away. “You’re a walking platitude, a pain in the ass and I couldn’t sleep without you snoring next to me last night,” Eliot said softly.

  I pulled away, horrified. “I don’t snore.”

  “Then you do a really good impression of my father,” Eliot laughed, linking his fingers through mine.

  “I think I’ve been insulted.”

  “You’re fine,” Eliot led me from the alley and towards the stairwell that led to his apartment above the pawnshop.

  “Where are we going?” I whined. “I have to be to work in an hour.”

  “That’s plenty of time,” Eliot laughed.

  “Sex, sex, sex,” I muttered. “That’s all you think about.”

  “Who said anything about sex,” Eliot winked in my direction. “I just want an hour for a nap. You can snore all you want.”

  Yeah, now I knew I’d been insulted. A nap did sound good, though.

  Thirty

  I walked into The Monitor with a huge smile on my face. Not only had I made up with Eliot, I’d managed to scare the crap out of Tad Ludington and get a quick nap in. The only way my morning could have gotten any better was if someone had given me a functioning lightsaber as a gift or if I could suddenly choke people with the powers generated by my own mind.

  I dropped my coat and purse at my desk and then headed straight for Fish. He saw me coming, and he didn’t look happy.

  “Tad Ludington is insisting on coming in here and having a meeting with me this afternoon,” Fish snapped. “Any idea why?”

  Hmm, to lie or not to lie? That is the question. “I had a fight with him a little over an hour ago.”

  “I know,” Fish replied. “I heard. Apparently the county courthouse is buzzing about you kicking him in the balls.”

  “He grabbed me first,” I said defensively.

  Fish narrowed his eyes. “I should have been a little more specific. The actual quote from the courthouse was that you verbally kicked Ludington in the balls. Is there something else I should know?”

  “No,” I said smoothly. “Not a thing.”

  “Is Ludington going to say the same thing when he gets in here?”

  “I have no idea,” I said honestly. “My guess is that he’s going to try to threaten you first and then try to compromise second.”

  “Okay,” Fish said resignedly. “What’s he going to threaten me about?”

  “He let it slip during our little tiff that there’s been some talk that the National Guard base is going to be closed,” I said conspiratorially.

  Fish raised his eyebrows, interest knitting them together. “He told you that?”

  “He didn’t mean to,” I said. “I was hammering him on Christine Brady and he was trying to divert my attention. Kind of.”

  “What do you have on Christine Brady?”

  “Marvin got the financials on her,” I said, rubbing my hands together excitedly. “She has no background in PR and she’s making $70,000 a year.”

  “That seems like a lot,” Fish said. “I thought they were slashing the county budget?”

  “It is. The Wayne County PR flak is only making $40,000 and the Oakland County chick is making $50,000,” I said.

  “And what was his rationale for this?”

  “He said she was qualified and that Jake deserved the help,” I said loftily. “He seemed surprised that I would bother to dig into her past. He also admitted he was the one that suggested her – which means there’s something sneaky there I’m going to dig up.”

  “He’s met you, right?” Fish smirked. “He should have known the first thing you would do is dig.”

  “I know. I don’t know what he thought would happen when he dropped that woman into my pool and told her to attack me,” I responded bitterly.

  “Are you going to write a story about that?”

  “What
do you think?”

  “Are you going to write it today?” Fish clarified his question.

  “Probably not,” I admitted. “There’s another press conference at the sheriff’s department on the shootings this afternoon and I want to see if I can find anything out about the National Guard base.”

  “You should ask Bill if he’s heard anything,” Fish suggested.

  I wrinkled my nose unhappily. Bill Crowder was our main political reporter. In addition to talking to me like I’m twelve – and constantly making fun of my shoes and clothes – he was also known for disappearing every afternoon. No one knew exactly where he was going, but he always came back smelling like the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He seemed to think meeting your sources at a bar was still a viable option – even though it was no longer 1980.

  “I don’t need him to follow up on this,” I said carefully.

  Fish fixed me with a hard stare. “He’s a good reporter, and that’s technically his beat.”

  “I thought he was chasing around one of the local mayors because he thought he was banging an underage girl?”

  “You have such a way with words,” Fish lamented. “I think he has time to do more than one story.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Fish would ever get around to telling Bill that he had time to work on more than one story at a time. I was pretty sure that Bill didn’t know that.

  “Can’t you ask him?” My voice sounded whiny, even to me.

  “I find it funny that you’ve been held at gunpoint, threatened at knifepoint and someone has tried to run you over – and that’s all in the past six months – and yet you’re scared of Bill,” Fish taunted me.

  I glanced over my shoulder and into Bill’s cubicle. Most reporters at The Monitor decorated their cubicles with funny photos – Star Wars and Rafael Nadal for me, Shania Twain and female wrestlers for Marvin – and yet Bill had decked out his cubicle with a variety of photos of old, white men.

  “I don’t like those pictures of the old, white dudes,” I said. “I think that’s weird.”

  Fish rolled his eyes. “Those are politicians.”

  “How do you know?”

 

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