I didn’t like that one bit. “You do what you have to do, and I’ll do what I have to do.”
His eyes flashed. “Fine. It’s on.”
13 Thirteen
Jake and I glared at each other so long I worried my mother’s old warning — “Your face will freeze like that if you’re not careful” — had come to fruition. He didn’t blink. There was no way I would blink. Ultimately, Eliot stepped between us.
“That is beyond creepy,” he muttered, tugging my arm to get me to move out of Jake’s path. “Can’t you two just agree to disagree on this one?”
“No,” we answered in unison.
“How can you take his side?” I asked, snapping up my head. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“Hey, you just got me thrown across a porch,” Eliot pointed out. “You’re lucky I’m even talking to you. As it is, you’re going to have to massage me until your hands fall off. Every muscle in my body hurts.”
“It’s not my fault you got thrown across the porch.”
“Oh, really?” He folded his arms across his chest. “Whose fault is it?”
“I had everything under control. You’re the one who raced in because you thought I needed saving. Just for the record, I never need to be saved. I’m a self-rescuing princess.”
Rather than be impressed, or agree, Eliot and Jake snorted.
“I hate to break it to you, Trouble, but I’ve rescued you a time or two,” Eliot argued. “I will admit that you’re capable of taking care of yourself in most instances, but everybody needs help at one time or another.”
His words did little to placate me. “Are you trying to tick me off?”
“I don’t often need to try.”
“Whatever.” I rolled my eyes until they landed on Jake. “Technically this is your fault. You know that, right?”
Jake’s eyes flashed with annoyance and a muscle began working in his jaw. “How do you figure that?”
“If you’d just told me what I needed to know I wouldn’t have had to come down to this rathole, searching for information.”
“And what information were you looking for down here?”
Uh-oh. I’d opened my big mouth again. “That’s classified,” I replied. “I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you.”
Jake’s expression darkened. “We’re not living in Top Gun.”
“I totally wish we were, because that volleyball scene was hot.”
He leaned close, his face mere inches from mine. “I don’t know what you were doing down here. I have an idea — and it fills me with rage — but I don’t have proof.”
“That must be hard for you.”
“Knock. It. Off.” He punctuated each word with a finger jab. “You’re not omnipotent, Avery. You’re not incapable of being hurt. I think tonight proves that.”
“I wasn’t hurt.”
“Eliot was.”
“Yeah, but ....” I slid my eyes to Eliot and found him watching me with an unreadable expression. Both men seemed to expect a certain reaction from me. That meant I had to act in the opposite way. “I’m sorry.” I held up my hands in capitulation, softening my voice. “I didn’t mean for Eliot to get hurt. This is on me.”
“It is on you,” Jake agreed. “Now tell me what you were doing down here.”
“No way.” I was contrite, not stupid. “You’re withholding information from me. I don’t have to tell you jack.”
“That’s not the way it works.”
“It is in my world.” I moved closer to Eliot, my hand going to the side he was favoring. “You don’t have broken ribs, do you?”
“I’m just bruised,” he replied. “I’m fine.”
Just because he said the words didn’t mean I believed him. “Let’s get you home. A hot bath couldn’t possibly hurt.”
Suspicion lit his features. “Why are you suddenly acting as if you care?”
Surprisingly, the dig hurt more than I expected. “I care. I mean ... I totally care. Why would you say that?”
His expression softened. “That came out wrong. I know you care. I just ... didn’t know you harbored a secret desire to act as my nurse.”
Oh, now he was taking it a step too far. “I’m not going to be your nurse.”
“Oh, you’re totally going to be my nurse.” He slung his arm around my shoulders and turned his eyes to Jake. “Unless there’s something more, we’re heading home.”
“There is something more. I want to know what you two were doing out here.”
“We often go to seedy parts of Detroit and get into it with random people,” I offered. “We feed off the adrenaline to keep the romance alive.”
Eliot made a face. “Don’t listen to her. That’s not a thing.”
Jake shot him a “well, duh” look and made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. “I never would’ve guessed.”
Under different circumstances, I would’ve found this sort of interaction amusing. I was tired and ready to call it a night, though, so I let it go. “Eliot is in pain. I need to get him home and tend to his wounds.”
“Does that mean you’re going to slap Star Wars Band-Aids all over him and call it a day?”
“There’s going to be a bath ... and maybe a cocktail.”
“Whatever.” Jake stared as he watched us head toward Eliot’s truck. I thought he might let us go without another word, but I didn’t have that sort of luck. “Stay out of this, Avery. I don’t want you getting in more trouble than you can handle.”
“I never get in more trouble than I can handle.”
“Except you always do.”
“Only in your head.” I led Eliot to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door. “I’ll drive.”
Surprise washed over his features and then he tilted his head, considering. “I’ll agree to your terms, but only because I’m tired and sore.”
“Great. Give me the keys.” I held out my hand.
“Just as soon as you thank the intern for saving you.”
I’d forgotten about that part of our agreement. “Um ....”
“Do it.” Eliot was firm as he settled in his seat. “I’ll let you share the tub with me if you’re a good girl.”
Was that supposed to be an enticement? “Maybe I don’t want to share the tub with you.”
“I bought a pint of Phish Food ice cream. I plan on eating it in the tub. If you play your cards right, you can have some.”
I narrowed my eyes. Phish Food was my favorite. “Is it the full-fat kind? You’re not trying to sucker me with the yogurt version?”
He snickered. “Full fat. I learned my lesson on that one.”
I huffed out a sigh. “Fine. I’ll thank her. But I won’t like it.”
“I expect nothing less.”
I paused before shutting him inside the truck. “I really did have it under control.”
“Avery, just thank her and get moving. Every muscle in my body hurts — like, really hurts — and I want to go home. I’ve had enough of your crap for one night.”
I hesitated. “If we get married, you’ll be stuck dealing with stuff like this forever.”
He cracked open an eye. “I know what you’re doing. Thank her and get your butt behind the wheel. And avoid Jake. We’ll talk about the rest of it at home.”
It was rare for him to be this cranky, and he had been hurt trying to protect me, so I decided to let it go. “I’m just saying. You know I can’t keep my mouth shut. This will hardly be the last time something like this happens.”
“I know. Now ... come on. I want my ice cream and bath.”
He was kind of cute, despite being bossy. “Okay. Half that ice cream is mine, though.”
“We’ll see.”
ELIOT’S GROAN SERVED AS MY ALARM CLOCK. Normally I slid into wakefulness over the course of an hour, but this morning my eyes popped open and I was instantly alert.
“What hurts?”
Eliot, on his side, rubbed his back and glared at me through n
arrowed eyes. “Everything hurts. I told you that last night.”
“Yeah, but I thought you were exaggerating because you wanted me to wait on you like a nurse.”
“That was part of it. Now everything really does hurt.”
I rubbed his lower back. “If you’re just pretending to be in pain for a free massage, I’m going to be really upset.”
“We can’t have that,” Eliot said dryly, briefly pressing his eyes shut as he let loose a muffled moan. “That feels good. Keep doing that.”
I frowned. I was the one who usually got the morning massages. “Is this how it’s going to be if we get married? Are you going to get all the massages while I’m forced to wait on you? I have to say, I don’t like the idea.”
Eliot cocked an eyebrow and snickered. He looked genuinely amused. “You are ... so much work.” He moved his hands up and cupped my chin. “Your mind goes to the strangest places. The only reason you’re waiting on me this morning is because you got me in trouble last night.”
That was a gross exaggeration. “You got yourself in trouble. I had everything under control.”
His eyes flashed with annoyance. “Stop saying that. You didn’t have anything under control.”
“You don’t know. I could’ve had it under control.”
“Avery, keep rubbing.” His tone was commanding, something that would’ve caused me to immediately do something annoying to regain the power position. Today, though, guilt had me acquiescing to his demands.
I gave him a full thirty minutes of kneading, even though I lost interest five minutes into the endeavor. Eliot actually had an extra spring in his step when we hit the kitchen. I expected him to cook breakfast. Instead he sat at the table and pinned me with an expectant look.
“Oh, man! You want me to cook breakfast, too?”
His smirk widened. “I am recovering from an injury I sustained while defending you.”
“I had it under control!”
His expression didn’t change. He simply waited.
“Fine.” I was over this nurse thing. Next time he could massage himself. “This isn’t making me want to do that thing you want to do. This is every nightmare I’ve ever had rolled into one. I hope you know that.”
“Oh, you’ve already decided you’re going to marry me.” He sounded smug. “You’re trying to argue with yourself over it, but we both know you’re going to say yes.”
I glared at him. “I know no such thing.”
“But you do.” He winked. “You know that I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. Part of you is even excited at the prospect of getting married.”
“Have you started smoking pounds of pot while I wasn’t looking?”
“I know you. The fact that you’re bringing it up regularly tells me you’re ready to talk about it. I’m ready when you are.”
His attitude rankled. “I have not been bringing it up.” I stomped toward the pantry to grab the cereal, but he made a tsking sound to stop me. “What?”
“I want eggs, hash browns and toast.”
My mouth dropped open. “You want me to cook?”
“You grew up in a restaurant family. I know you’re familiar with the concept.”
“But ....”
He remained in his seat, expectant.
“Fine.” I slammed the pantry door and stalked to the refrigerator. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”
“I cook you breakfast three or four times a week.”
“I don’t ask you to do it. I’m fine with cereal.”
“Cookie Crisp is not a healthy start to the day.”
“I never said I wanted to be healthy.” I grabbed the eggs from the refrigerator and searched for one of the bags of shredded potatoes. “Cookie Crisp happens to be a fine way to start the day.”
“Only if you’re a sugar addict.”
I grumbled as I turned on the small television we kept on the counter. As a news junkie, I preferred catching up on world events before I started chasing stories.
“Do you think Jake knows why we were there last night?” I asked.
“I think he’s suspicious.” Eliot leaned back in his chair. He seemed content to watch me work, which should’ve been grating, except I recognized what he was doing. It was a test, to see how far I’d come. I could’ve gone against my instincts and tortured him a bit, but I didn’t have the energy. Besides, he’d been injured trying to protect me. Part of me wanted to coddle him simply because of that, which was a sobering realization.
“I think he knows.” I grabbed a frying pan and sprayed oil in it before turning on the burner and upending the contents of the bag. “He would’ve run Beau Burton after identifying him as one of the dead Santas. That means he’d know about the halfway house.”
“I don’t disagree.”
“He also knows he let slip Beau’s name in front of me. Part of him probably hoped I’d forget. What happened last night will serve as proof that I’m still digging.”
“I don’t think Jake expects you to stop digging. He knows you better than that. It’s likely he hoped it would take you longer to track down Beau’s last known address. The fact that you’re moving so quickly probably has him agitated.”
I hadn’t considered that, but it made sense. I cracked the eggs into a second pan. “I can’t worry about his feelings on this,” I warned. “This is going to turn into a big story.”
“I know.”
“I’m just warning you because things will likely get ugly between us before they get better.”
“I know that, too.” He watched me drop bread into the toaster, his grin widening.
“Keep it up,” I intoned. “I’ll lick your eggs if you’re not careful. Making fun of me is not the way to get this morning started on the right foot.”
“I’m not making fun of you.”
“I see you smiling.”
“I’m smiling because you’re ... you.” He held out his hands. “You act strong and tough, to the point people think you’re evil. You’re so much more than that, though.”
“Oh, geez. Are you going to start spouting nonsense?”
“I’m just going to say that I love you.”
It was simple and heartfelt. It also made me want to pinch him. “Next time, we’re going out for breakfast. I’m not geared for this.”
He laughed, turning his attention to the television as the morning news reporter’s face filled the screen. The scroll beneath mentioned an incident at a Detroit halfway house ... and a jail death.
“What’s that?” I slipped away from the stove and closer to the television to concentrate on the report.
“They’re saying someone died in the jail last night,” Eliot said, getting to his feet. He was no longer smiling. “Someone who was picked up after an altercation outside a halfway house on the east side.”
I held his gaze for a moment. “What are the odds of that?”
He slipped his arm around my back and watched with me, his eyebrows hopping when the newscaster announced it was most likely a drug overdose. “That seems ... weird. He didn’t strike me as high.”
“He could’ve been zoned,” I countered, thinking back to the altercation. “I mean ... he wasn’t exactly on an even keel.”
“No, but he wasn’t hyped up on heroin.”
I thought back to his arms. “He didn’t have track marks.”
“No,” Eliot agreed.
“Maybe it’s not the same guy.” Even as I uttered the suggestion, I knew it was ridiculous. “Maybe it was another halfway house.”
He cast me a sidelong look and pointed to the screen, to where a mugshot popped up. The face reflected back was easily recognizable.
“Or maybe something else is going on,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Even if he was high, I don’t think he had enough in his system to kill him. He was a big guy.”
“So, what does that leave us with? I guess he could’ve gotten mouthy with the guards and they got overzealous trying to restrain him.
”
“Or something else is going on,” I murmured, my mind zooming. “Like maybe there’s some sort of coverup.”
“Involving the police?”
I held out my hands. “Involving somebody. I guess I know where to start looking today.”
“While being careful, right?”
I nodded. “I have everything under control.”
His scowl returned with a vengeance. “I hate it when you say things like that.”
“Go back to feeling mushy about me cooking you breakfast.”
“Only if you stop trying to give me an ulcer.”
“We’ll see where the day takes us.”
“Oh, I just know I’m going to hate whatever you have planned.”
14 Fourteen
Eliot had to drive me into Mount Clemens because I’d left my car at his shop. We stopped at the coffee place, where I couldn’t help but notice he seemed fine now that we were out of the house.
“Are you putting on an act now or were you then?” I asked as we waited in line.
“Hmm.” He looked at me. “Did you say something?”
He was good. I had to give him that. I didn’t remember him being this good at subterfuge when we first met. I had to wonder if he was learning some of his new skills from me.
“You seem fine now,” I noted. “Did you make a miraculous recovery? Or perhaps you’re putting on a show for the pretty young things who work here.”
He offered a wink to the blonde behind the counter as we approached. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You should order one of those cream cheese eclairs you like, too. That way you’ll have something to snack on at the office.”
He was full of it. “Are you buying?” I sneered, knowing it would irritate him.
He nodded without hesitation. “I am.”
“Technically that means I’m buying, right? I mean ... it is our money.”
He kept his face impassive, but I didn’t miss the little twitch at the corners of his eyes. “Of course it’s our money.”
“So, you’re not technically treating me to anything.”
He shook his head. “You really are a pain. You can’t even let me have one day to gloat about how things are working out.”
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