Mayhem & Mistletoe

by Amanda M. Lee

  The Avery Shaw Information Train was derailed by the annoying intern the second I slipped into the newsroom.

  “Hi.” She was almost breathless when she stopped at my cubicle. The boxes we were expected to live in to do our work had tall walls on the reporter side and low ones on the editor and copy desk end. Fish once said it was an effort to derail chatty reporters because nobody would get any work done if left to their own devices. We were a gossipy bunch. For once, I wished the walls were even taller ... and somehow a deterrent to interns.

  “Um ... hi.” I wasn’t chatty under normal circumstances — unless I found myself in a Star Wars or General Hospital chatroom surrounded by trolls — but I had a plan of attack I wanted to stick to today, and the intern was not part of it.

  “You’re my hero,” she announced on a wispy breath.

  I stood there for a beat, confused.

  “That probably makes me sound like a dork,” she said, shaking her head. “Ugh. Why can’t I do things like a normal person? I’m such an idiot.” She slapped her hand to her forehead hard enough that the sound echoed throughout the department.

  I risked a glance down the aisle and found Fish watching us from his desk. He seemed intrigued. He usually tried to keep the interns as far away from me as possible. That was by mutual agreement. This time, however, he seemed to be letting the intern fend for herself.

  That was beyond interesting.

  “The thing is, you really are my hero,” she continued, enthusiasm on full display. “I mean ... you’re absolutely amazing. I love you. I think you could be the smartest person in the world.”

  Either she was blowing smoke up my behind or she actually was a fan. Either way, she was dangerous. Still, it didn’t hurt to listen to what she had to say. I mean, I was well aware she could be up to no good. If she wanted to gush all over me in the process of trying to manipulate me, who was I to stop her?

  “I don’t know about the world,” I hedged.

  “You’re definitely the smartest person in the building.”

  “That’s not difficult.” I offered her a wan smile. “Sabrina, right?”

  She looked awestruck. “I can’t believe you remembered my name!”

  She was going to be trouble. There was no doubt about that. The accolades were awesome, but I needed to squash this fast. “I remember because I thought you kind of looked like Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I wouldn’t get too excited.”

  “Oh, that’s even more awesome.” She shifted from one foot to the other, excited. “I love that show. She’s such a badass. It’s all dark and satanic and stuff. I mean ... that’s amazing.”

  I had no idea what to say. “Um ... yeah. Who doesn’t find Satan stimulating? I don’t particularly remember that show being satanic, though.” Something occurred to me. “Oh, you’re talking about the Netflix show. I’m old school. I watched the ABC show with the fake cat.”

  Sabrina’s forehead wrinkled. “What do you mean? What fake cat?”

  She was too young to remember the original, which was a horrendous punch to the gut. I was old. How did that even happen? Things I remembered from my early childhood, like a terrible television show with bad special effects, were now dated. Not only were they dated, they’d been rebooted.

  And it wasn’t just older things like Sabrina. It was newer shows like Charmed and Gossip Girl. I wasn’t even a kid when Gossip Girl started. I was an adult then. Sure, not by much, but that wasn’t the point.

  Wait ... what were we talking about again?

  “It doesn’t matter.” I recovered as quickly as possible. “It was a stupid conversation anyway.”

  “Oh, no.” Sabrina shook her head, somber. “It was a great conversation. I’ll remember it forever.”

  Okay, that was taking it way too far. “Listen ....”

  “You’re my hero,” she repeated, cutting me off. “You’ve been my hero for as long as I can remember, since I was in high school even. That’s how long you’ve been my hero.”

  I knit my eyebrows. “Aren’t you like twenty?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be twenty-one in three months?” She was beginning to end her sentences with that annoying vocal inflection that turns sentences into questions by their end.

  “And then comes the retirement home.”

  “What?” She tilted her head, confusion causing the only lines on her face.

  “Listen, Sabrina, it’s been nice chatting with you. I have a full slate today. I have to chase the Santas story, and before I can start chasing leads, I need to have a discussion with Fish.”

  Rather than move out of my way, Sabrina remained rooted to her spot and grinned. “Awesome.”

  Part of me wanted to shake her. “What’s awesome?”

  “All of this. You.” She gestured to the newsroom around us. “This is just ... awesome.” She leaned forward and offered a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re awesome, too.”

  It took everything I had not to snap at her. “I am awesome,” I agreed. “I’m ... the queen of awesome. I’m also on a timetable. I need to focus on my story.”

  I expected her to head back to wherever they’d put her, but instead she rubbed her hands together and shifted her feet. “Great. Where do we start?”

  That was my first hint that things might not be as I assumed. “Um ... we don’t start anywhere. You need to go and do ... whatever Fish has lined up for you. I need quiet to work on my story.”

  Bewilderment washed over her features. “But ... Mr. Fish said I’m working with you.”

  Mr. Fish? Ugh. She was a suck-up to boot. Then the rest of the statement sank in. “Did you say you’re supposed to be working with me?”

  She nodded.

  “And Fish told you that?” I was incredulous. Fish knew better than to pair the interns with me. I was notorious for terrorizing them, to the point Human Resources had to call me down regularly until Fish cut off contact. What could he possibly be thinking?

  As if reading my mind, Fish was on his feet and heading in our direction. He looked nervous, and I very much doubted it was Sabrina he feared.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” I drawled when he’d closed the distance.

  Even though Fish was my boss, he looked nervous in the shadow of my disdain. “There is.” He plastered a fake smile on his face and focused on Sabrina. “I need to talk to Avery for a few minutes. You should probably go to the storage closet and collect the supplies you’ll need for the day.”

  Sabrina looked unsure. “For the day I’m going to spend with Avery? You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”

  “Of course not.” Fish’s smile was benign until she disappeared and then it dropped into a grimace as he regarded me. “Now, I know you’re upset ....”

  I didn’t give him a chance to finish. “Oh, you have no idea how upset I am.” I kept my voice low, although it took monumental effort. “She’s not coming with me.”

  “She’s a big fan of your work.”

  “So what?”

  “She wants to be just like you.”

  “Is that supposed to soften me up?”

  “Hey, I told her that using you as a role model was a bad idea.” Fish’s expression hardened and I knew things were about to get worse for me, if that was even possible. “She’s been reading your articles since she was a kid.”

  “Yes, she told me ... except she was a kid like three years ago.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that she wants to be paired with a female reporter.” Fish folded his arms over his chest. “As you well know, our news department is mostly men. Of the four females, you’re the only one who is a hard news reporter.”

  He couldn’t possibly be blaming the lack of diversity in the newsroom on me. “That’s because you hire women for features and men for news. That’s on you.”

  “It’s not my fault that women gravitate toward features.” Fish refused to back down. “You’re always complaining there are no other women news reporters. You’re finally getti
ng your wish.”

  “Yeah, but she’s an intern. Interns are stupid.”

  “Not if you teach them correctly.”

  He couldn’t possibly think I was going to teach anybody anything. “I’m not a professor. If I wanted to teach people, I would’ve chased an education degree. I mean ... who better than me to mold the minds of today’s youth?”

  Fish rolled his eyes. “Anybody would be better than you,” he muttered.

  “Exactly!” I jabbed a finger into his chest, causing him to jolt. “I can’t deal with idiot young people. I especially can’t deal with people like her. She’s bubbly. She’s smiling and I bet she hasn’t even had coffee yet. She’s psychotic. I read about it in a medical journal.”

  Fish didn’t look convinced. “What medical journal?”

  “It’s French. You wouldn’t recognize the name. That doesn’t matter, because she’s not coming with me.”

  I thought it was a fairly good argument, right up until the point Fish shook his head.

  “She is going with you.” He kept his voice low but firm, and I knew I’d lost. “She wants to learn from a female reporter. I’m not subjecting her to Duncan and Marvin because I don’t want a sexual harassment lawsuit filed against this newspaper.

  “Now, she’s a sweet girl who wants to learn from the best,” he continued. “For some reason, she thinks that’s you. I won’t let you disappoint her.”

  He had to be joking. “You know I’m going to be mean to her.”

  “I do. I’ve warned her that you will be mean to her. She doesn’t seem to care.”

  “Which only goes to prove she’s even more of an idiot than we realized.”

  Fish’s eyes narrowed. “She’s your responsibility. I expect you to teach her, not terrorize her.”

  That was a tall order. “And what if I can’t pull it off.”

  “Then I’ll assign you to cover the wedding event special section.”

  I swallowed hard. As far as threats go, that was a doozy. Special sections were advertising boons full of fluff pieces and ridiculous editorial content. A wedding special section meant I would have to go to shops ... and churches ... and reception venues ... and bakeries.

  Okay, that last part wouldn’t have been a hardship, but the rest sounded like a nightmare. “Fine.” I kept my glare in place to let him know I wasn’t happy. “I won’t be nice to her, though.”

  “Do what you have to do.”

  “I will.”

  “I’m convinced this will end in tears – hers – but it’s my best option. You’ll have to live with it.”

  And just like that, I was suddenly a babysitter. This day was already looking like a downer.

  7 Seven

  Sabrina’s enthusiasm was cloying. She wouldn’t stop gushing about the way I’d shaped her life, going so far as to equate me to her mother, another personal hero. She was a nonstop chatterbox during the drive to the scene, no matter how loud I turned up the radio.

  “Oh, this is grim.” She bobbed her head as I parked behind the deserted factory. “I mean ... this is really grim. This is life on the street.”

  I slid my eyes to her and did my best to hide my hostility. “Where did you grow up?”

  “Washington Township.”

  Well, that answered that question. The people of Washington Township were pleasant, well-mannered and rich. There was little diversity in the township. The only thing gritty Sabrina had probably been exposed to was the dirt from some of the rural side roads.

  “Well, I wouldn’t get too worked up,” I supplied. “This is Roseville, not Detroit. The neighborhood isn’t that bad.”

  “Yeah, but ... there are homeless people.”

  I waited for her to add a little something extra behind the statement. “There are homeless people everywhere,” I said when she didn’t continue. “Times are tough for people of limited means.”

  “Yeah, but ... those are real homeless people.” Her eyes widened. “Maybe I should lock my purse in the car. You know, just to be on the safe side.”

  I’d spent a total of fifteen minutes with her and I was already over it. “Do what you want.” I couldn’t get away from her fast enough. I cut along the path that led to the railroad tracks, not looking over my shoulder to see if she followed. If she got distracted by the homeless population and didn’t make the next leg of our trip, I would have absolutely zero complaints.

  Derrick’s scout car was parked in the same spot as the day before. He leaned his hip against the cruiser, his arms crossed as he watched the evidence teams work. His back was to me. I decided to use that to my advantage.

  I sidled up behind him, moving close, but not near enough to tip him off. Then I let loose a breathy whisper. “Oh, detective, you look so hot in your uniform. I especially like how you forgot to zip your trousers. Was that for me?”

  Derrick swiveled quickly, his eyes going wide. He frowned when he realized who was invading his space. I didn’t miss the fact that he checked to see if his pants were zipped. “You think you’re so funny,” he grumbled, scowling.

  “I should have my own sitcom,” I agreed, looking him up and down. He seemed edgier than normal. He was obviously in charge of the investigation, which could be the biggest of his career to date. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” I decided to antagonize him in the hope he would let some crucial information slip. It was a tried-and-true tactic with other sources. He was familiar with my ways, though, and rarely fell for it.

  “Every moment without you is torture,” he drawled. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think I’m doing here?”

  “Trying to drive me crazy.”

  “Then why ask?”

  He let out a heavy sigh and looked over my shoulder. “Who is that?”

  “That’s Sabrina. I thought maybe you were sick of playing house with Devon so I brought a young firecracker to pique your interest.”

  His expression was priceless. “Are you crazy?” He leaned closer. “You can’t bring a prostitute to a cop!”

  It took me a moment to absorb what he was saying. “Who said she was a prostitute?”

  “You did. You said you thought she could do things for me.”

  Hmm. That was interesting. I was fairly certain I hadn’t said anything of the sort. I was crude enough to use prostitute jokes depending on my audience, but that had been the furthest thing from my mind.

  “So, what’s up?” I relaxed my stance and leaned against the cruiser. “You seem wound a little tight.”

  “Maybe you are wound tight,” he fired back. “Have you ever considered that?”

  I bobbed my head. “Every day of my life. Eliot thinks I’m a time bomb ready to detonate at any moment. Despite that, you’re out of sorts. What gives?”

  Before Derrick could answer, Sabrina decided to insert herself into the conversation. She opted to be assertive as she stuck out her hand in my cousin’s direction. “I’m Sabrina Holden with The Monitor. I want to know what information you have to share with us regarding the dead Santas. Do we think this was a massacre perpetrated by the mall industry to drum up business for waning sales?”

  I had to hand it to her. If she were purposely trolling the cops, that would’ve been a brilliant way to go. Unfortunately for her, she was serious.

  “Excuse me?” Derrick’s eyebrows hopped and his gaze went dark when it landed on me. “What did she say?”

  “Ignore her.” I was already over having an intern as a sidekick. It was beyond frustrating. “Fish stuck me with her because she wants to learn from the best.”

  Derrick snorted. “Then why did they send her with you? You almost lost your job twice in the last year because of your mouth.”

  “Technically one of those times was because I was a suspect in an attempted murder plot,” I countered. “The other time was because of my mouth ... and I wasn’t fired. I was simply busted down to sports.”

  “Which I believe you equated to a fate worse than death.”

>   He wasn’t wrong. “She’s an intern. Ignore her.” I leaned closer to him and lowered my voice. “Duncan and Marvin have been fighting over her and Fish wants to avoid a sexual harassment lawsuit.”

  “Ah.” Derrick switched his gaze to Sabrina, who had a reporter’s notebook out and seemed poised to write down whatever he said. “What is she doing right now?”

  “Acting like an intern,” I replied. “Focus on me, your favorite cousin.”

  “Mario is my favorite cousin.”

  “Mario is thinking about trying to find a way to turn ice cream tasting into a full-time job.”

  Derrick’s smiled. “That’s why he’s my favorite cousin.”

  “That’s hurtful,” I acknowledged. “We grew up together.”

  “Which means I know you’re here to wheedle information out of me. Sorry to break it to you, but I don’t have any information to share. All news briefings will be handled by Jake at this time.”

  Ugh. That’s exactly what I was afraid of. “Jake muzzled you.”

  “Jake is the sheriff. It’s his job to prioritize what information goes public.”

  “The public has a right to know what’s going on with these Santas,” Sabrina shot back. “If they’re meth dealers ... or human smugglers ... or even strippers on the side, we will track down the information and disseminate it. That’s our job ... as the press.” She puffed out her chest.

  Derrick studied her a long moment and then grinned before turning back to me. “She’s kind of cute.”

  “She’s adorable. I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about the case. What’s going on with the Santas?”

  Derrick’s smile disappeared. “I can’t say. If you want information, you’ll have to talk to Jake, but he’s decided to embrace a media blackout — at least today.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Well, great.” I straightened and planted my hands on my hips. I considered pushing Derrick on the Beau Burton angle but depending on his mood he might lie ... or decide to leak the information to other news organizations as payback. I had a leg up on all the others and I wanted to keep it that way.