avery shaw 08 - misprints & mistakes

by lee, amanda m

  “Do you know anyone not sneaking around who waits until they’re that far away from the driveway to turn their headlights on after dark?” I asked.

  “I hate it that you’re always right,” Eliot said, starting his truck and following Daniel. “It’s really annoying.”

  “Only in your world,” I teased.

  “Oh, no, it’s annoying in every world but yours,” Eliot countered. “You’re just too self-centered to notice.”

  “WHERE do you think he’s going?” I asked, watching Daniel’s car as he maneuvered in and out of traffic along Gratiot ten minutes later.

  We’d followed Daniel from side streets to surface streets and finally to a main thoroughfare. I kept the chatter to a minimum, mostly because Eliot got grumpy when I talked while following people. He likes to stay focused on the road ahead, especially when traffic is heavy, as it was now.

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Eliot said.

  I pushed my lips out and sucked them back in to amuse myself as Eliot fixated on following Daniel. I could feel the tension in the car climbing, and I knew better than to push him, but I honestly can’t stop myself from saying stupid things sometimes. It’s not always a choice. “Do you want to listen to the dirty book?”

  “Sit there and be quiet, Avery,” Eliot ordered. “I’m trying to focus.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and stared out the passenger side window. “Fine.”

  “Great.”

  “Good.”

  The silence lasted two minutes before Eliot broke. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

  “Oh, you’re going to be sorry,” I said. “I’m going to punish you when we get home.”

  “That could go either way, so I’m not sure I’m still sorry.” Eliot’s gaze was focused out the window but the corners of his mouth tipped up.

  “Ha, ha.”

  “Avery, I really am sorry,” Eliot said. “It’s just … in situations like this you insist on talking when quiet is required. It’s interesting because when we’re at home together and I’d be more than happy to talk you bury yourself in your Kindle or a videogame.

  “When we first got together I thought you needed constant amusement from someone else,” he continued. “I didn’t think that was something I was interested in because I thought it would wear me down. Then I realized you need very little outside entertainment – unless it’s at the worst possible time.”

  “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

  “I’m trying to say that your need to irritate people outweighs everything else about you, and I find it amusing except when I’m trying to focus on a task,” Eliot replied. “Do you understand?”

  “You don’t want me to talk when you’re chasing someone for one of my stories,” I supplied.

  “Exactly.”

  “You could’ve said that in like five words,” I pointed out. “Don’t talk while I’m driving. That would’ve done it.” I tapped the words out on five fingers for emphasis and then repeated them. “Don’t … talk … while … I’m … driving.”

  “I’m going to spank the crap out of you when we get back to the house.”

  “Can we get pizza first? I’m in the mood for pizza. That dinner you made was good, but I think I’m going to want to eat again.”

  “Sure,” Eliot said, frowning when Daniel changed lanes to make a Michigan left at one of the turnarounds. “You don’t think he’s going to his ex-wife’s hotel, do you?”

  I frowned when I realized where we were. “I don’t know what else is in this area,” I said, scanning the other side of Gratiot. “Be careful pulling into the parking lot. Try parking in that side lot by the front door so we can watch without being noticed.”

  “Thank you for the driving tips.”

  I made a sound like an angry cat, which made Eliot groan.

  Daniel pulled into the Best Western parking lot and picked a slot east of the building to settle. Eliot parked on the west side and hopped out of his truck, causing me to balk.

  “Wait, what are you doing?” I hissed.

  “He’s not going inside,” Eliot said. “He parked over there and got out. He’s leaning against his car for a reason. If he was meeting Bridget inside, he’d go inside. That means either she’s coming out or someone else is. We need to go around the back of the hotel and hug the fence. That way he won’t see us, and we can sneak up on him.”

  That sounded like a really good plan. “I thought you didn’t want to get in trouble with me.”

  “You’re the only person I want to get in trouble with,” Eliot said. “Now … come on. At least now we won’t have to fight about talking while driving.”

  “Things are looking up,” I said.

  I slipped my hand into Eliot’s once I met him at the front of his truck. I let him lead the way, mostly because the building had a few weird alcoves that I didn’t want to investigate, and it took us almost five minutes to completely circle the building. When we got to the far side Eliot dragged me to the fence and made me press my back to it as we slid our way closer to where Daniel paced.

  Once we got in a convenient location between a low-hanging tree and a Dumpster – it didn’t smell great and I kept making dry heave motions as I attempted to breathe through my mouth – Eliot focused on Daniel and we waited.

  I stuck my tongue out and leaned forward to put my hands on my knees when I thought I might throw up. Eliot absentmindedly rubbed my back but never moved his gaze from Daniel.

  “This is weird,” Eliot whispered. We were far enough away – the ambient noise emanating from the hotel’s heating and cooling system acting as natural cover – to communicate without anyone noticing as long as we kept our voices low. “He’s got to be here to see his ex-wife. Why hide it? Why wait out here instead of going inside?”

  “I think I might puke. Does that smell like a rotten banana to you?”

  “If you’re going to puke, do it on the other side of the Dumpster,” Eliot ordered. “I’m not cleaning it up, and puking is one of those things that I sometimes have to do if someone else does it.”

  “Good to know,” I muttered.

  “I want to know why he’s here,” Eliot said. “I want to know why he’s hiding. You don’t think he’s working with his ex-wife and they killed the kid, do you? I didn’t even think to check for a life insurance policy.”

  “Eliot, I … is it hot?”

  Eliot fanned my face with his hand and turned my body so I faced away from him. “I love you very much,” he said. “If you puke on my shoes, though, we’re over.”

  “I hate you. In fact, I … .”

  Eliot clapped his hand over my mouth and physically lifted me until he had his back pressed against the tree and we were completely hidden from view. Unfortunately that meant I was really close to the Dumpster … and the smell was suddenly seeping into my pores.

  “What do you want?”

  I recognized the voice even though I couldn’t make out the figure approaching Daniel. It was Bridget. I wasn’t surprised, but it was hard concentrating when I really wanted to puke – or run to a spot that didn’t make we want to lose the dinner Eliot so lovingly prepared an hour before we left the house.

  “Thank you for meeting me,” Daniel said. “I know things are … difficult … but we really need to talk.”

  “About what?” Bridget snapped.

  “What do you think? We need to talk about Sierra.”

  “I’m not talking about Sierra with you,” Bridget said. “You’re the reason we’re in this situation. You’re the reason we got arrested.”

  “They let us go with a warning,” Daniel pointed out. “The only reason we got arrested is because you attacked Sandy and that … reporter … had to show her face again.”

  “That reporter didn’t do anything wrong,” Bridget said. “I told her everything that she wrote. I told her worse stories that she didn’t include. Personally, I think she showed a lot more restraint than I expected or hoped for. I don’t
see why you’re being such a baby about that, by the way. You’ve earned it.”

  “I’m not being a baby,” Daniel countered. “Do you know how many people made fun of me because of that article? You said horrible things about me.”

  “They were all true!”

  “I don’t care if they were true or not,” Daniel said. “I don’t want people making fun of me at work. It’s embarrassing.”

  Despite the turmoil roiling my stomach I couldn’t help but straighten and glance at Eliot. He removed his hand from my mouth and lifted a questioning eyebrow. There was nothing we could do but listen.

  “What’s embarrassing is that you were willing to get that girl fired so you could pretend you’re not a low-life,” Bridget said. “I think it’s funny that instead of doing what you wanted she went behind your back and dug up information from our divorce. She obviously feels the same need you do to be right.”

  “I’m still going to find a way to get her back,” Daniel said. “Unfortunately, she seems to have the sheriff in her pocket. Did you see the size of her boyfriend, by the way? Can you say steroids?”

  I pressed my lips together as Eliot clenched and unclenched his fists.

  “I think he’s hot,” Bridget replied. “That’s what a real man looks like, in case you were wondering.”

  “I know what a real woman looks like because I sleep next to one every night,” Daniel shot back.

  The sound of a hand making contact with skin filled the air, and I leaned a little farther out so I could see Daniel rubbing his cheek as Bridget stared him down.

  “You’re a pig,” Bridget said. “I wish you would die!”

  “I wish you would die first!”

  “I wish you would die three times,” Bridget screeched.

  I expected her to smack him again. That’s what I would’ve done. Instead, she reached for Daniel at the exact moment he reached for her and they crushed their mouths together. Their bodies ceased belonging to two individuals and instead became a series of flailing arms, grinding pelvises and groping hands. It was … disturbing.

  “Holy crap,” I whispered when they didn’t immediately regret what they were doing and come up for air. “I … have no idea what to say.”

  “That has to be a first,” Eliot said, making a face. “Oh, good grief. He’s got his hand up her shirt.”

  I don’t know whether it was the kissing or the smell – or maybe a combination of both – but my stomach picked that moment to give up the fight and I vomited. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to direct myself away from Eliot, and my dinner remnants landed all over his shoes.

  “Oh, man,” Eliot muttered. “We’re so breaking up.”

  23

  “I’m starving,” I said the next morning, reaching for one of the menus at our favorite breakfast diner and flashing a bright smile in Eliot’s direction. “I could eat a horse – but not literally, because that would be gross.”

  “That’s because you threw up on my favorite shoes last night and your stomach is empty and ready to be filled,” Eliot said, making a face. “That was disgusting, by the way. I had to throw those shoes out.”

  “I’ll buy you new ones.”

  “I would prefer going through life without you puking on me,” Eliot said. “I don’t think I’m asking for too much.”

  “I told you I was feeling sick, and you made me hide behind that Dumpster anyway,” I pointed out. “How is that my fault? I gave you fair warning.”

  “You’re the one who puked. How can that possibly be my fault?”

  “Because it can’t be my fault, and you were the only other person there to blame,” I answered.

  “As long as you have a reason.”

  “You said you were going to break up with me if I puked,” I said, the memory rushing back. “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I love you more than the shoes, even though the puke made me seriously re-examine my feelings,” Eliot replied. “Let’s not talk about the puke when we’re trying to decide what to eat, okay?”

  “Who’s talking about puke?” Mario asked, sliding into my side of the booth and grabbing the menu from my hands. He looked and smelled hungover. He was dressed in jeans and a dark button-down shirt, and both had seen better days. I leaned over to prove my suspicion and almost gagged again.

  “Ugh. Man, you stink.” I pushed Mario out of the booth and slipped around to Eliot’s side, shooting him a dark look when he made a show of not allowing me entry. “Seriously?”

  “You puked on my shoes, woman,” Eliot said. “If you puke on my breakfast I can’t stay with you. Do you want to risk that?”

  “You puked on his shoes?” Mario asked, wrinkling his nose. “That’s really gross.”

  “It was an accident,” I explained, jerking away when Eliot tried to touch my face with his hand. He was enjoying himself. “You smell like you’ve been out all night, Mario. Please tell me you didn’t go home with a stripper.”

  “I can’t tell you that because I don’t believe in lying,” Mario said.

  I might throw up again. “Mario, do you have any idea how gross that is?”

  “It’s not gross,” Eliot countered. “They’re strippers, not prostitutes. Was it good?”

  “She was hot,” Mario said, leaning closer so he could relate his evening to Eliot without alerting everyone surrounding us about his bad behavior. “She was very limber, too, if you know what I mean.”

  “Everyone knows what you mean,” I said, making a face that insinuated I was going to vomit.

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Eliot warned. “I will break up with you.”

  “That’s not a very good threat, man,” Mario said. “Everyone knows you’re not going anywhere. You’re sadly devoted to Avery.”

  “What’s sad about that?” I challenged.

  “We have a running pool to see when he’s involuntarily committed,” Mario deadpanned. “His interest in you can only mean that he’s crazy and will end up in a straightjacket. I’m sorry, Avery. I love you, but even you have to admit the man is showing signs of instability.”

  “I gave you a bunch of money for strippers last night and this is how you repay me?” I asked, frustrated. “That essentially means I paid for you to get laid. I’m a john now. I’ll never be clean again.”

  “Me either.” Mario’s grin was evil.

  “What is the matter with you?”

  “Hey, I got the information you were looking for,” Mario said. “I happen to know that Kendra is not in contact with her mother, so there’s no way she helped her kidnap Sierra. I made your job easier. You should thank me.”

  “How can you know that?” I asked. “We need to make sure Sierra isn’t locked up in her house somewhere.”

  “I did that last night.”

  I stilled, flustered. “What?”

  “Oh, wow,” Eliot intoned. “You took your undercover assignment very seriously, didn’t you?”

  Mario winked. “I was awesome. Songs will be sung a hundred years from now about how awesome I was.”

  “I might puke again,” I said.

  “Aim it at Mario,” Eliot instructed. He didn’t appear worried I would carry through on the threat. “How did you get her to take you home?”

  “I spent all of Avery’s singles – and some of my own, if I’m being truthful – on her all night. She was so grateful she let me buy her a drink,” Mario explained. “Then we talked, and as soon as she saw how charming I was she readily agreed to take me home once I explained I lived with my cousin who was a cop and we couldn’t go to my place.”

  I’d almost forgotten he was staying with Derrick after a huge argument with his father. He might have insight on the Devon situation. That was a topic for another day, though. “So, you had sex with her and waited for her to go to sleep and searched her house?”

  Mario nodded. “It’s a real dump. It’s right by your house.”

  “I told you your neighborhood was trash,” Eliot said.

  �
�I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a stripper,” I argued. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want you staring at other naked women, but I see nothing wrong with the profession. People get desperate and they have to take care of themselves. Stripping isn’t illegal.”

  “I wasn’t saying that because she’s a stripper,” Eliot clarified. “I said that because she slept with Mario and that shows terrible judgment.”

  “Hey!” Mario was annoyed.

  “Well, I agree with that,” I said. “So there’s no place she could be hiding Sierra?” I was marginally disappointed. Finding Sierra was my top priority, but I didn’t have a lot of places to search, and information was at a premium. The information we did manage to uncover was more disturbing than illuminating.

  “I went through the entire house,” Mario said. “There’s no basement and it’s a ranch. There’s no sign of Sierra. Kendra’s kid was in his bedroom asleep the whole time, but Kendra made me sneak out before he woke up because she didn’t want him to see me. She said it would send the wrong message.”

  “What a great mother,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Well, I guess that’s a dead end. Did you see Marvin while you were there?”

  “He got lucky, too,” Mario said. “His stripper wasn’t nearly as hot, though, and I can guarantee his game was a lot less awesome than mine.”

  “That’s just … awesome,” I deadpanned, glancing at Eliot. “Now what?”

  “I’m waiting for you to come up with ideas,” Eliot replied. “After what we saw last night, I have no idea what to expect or where to look.”

  “That makes two of us,” I muttered.

  “What did you see last night?” Mario asked, genuinely curious.

  Eliot related our evening, including my vomiting and how we had to stay hidden behind the tree until Daniel and Bridget climbed into his car and started going at it. Once it was rocking, we figured we were safe to sneak away. Mario was guffawing by the time Eliot finished with our retreat and the fact that he had to drive home barefooted.

  “That’s hilarious,” Mario said, wiping tears from his eyes. “You guys watched two other people have sex, and Avery puked on you. My night was so much better.”