Headlines & Deadlines (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 7)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “There were too many witnesses to kill him,” Eliot said, casting me a sidelong look. “Besides, Avery wants to be the one to bring him down. If I kill him, she’s not going to have the chance.”

  Jake snickered. “That’s true.”

  “What do you know about TOOL?” I asked.

  “You’re going to keep using that word until everyone embraces it, aren’t you?”

  I nodded.

  “I don’t know much,” Jake said. “I’m as curious as you are. I can’t figure out where the funds are coming from. This had to be voted on at a meeting and yet they’re somehow hiding it.”

  “Marvin and I filed so many Freedom of Information Act requests this afternoon that we made the clerk’s head spin,” I said. “We made her stamp them in front of us, too.”

  “What does that mean?” Cara asked curiously.

  “It just means that Avery is demanding public records,” Jake explained. “As a public government entity, county officials have to play by certain rules.”

  “How long do they have to get you the information?” Cara asked.

  “Ten days,” I said. “Ten very long days.”

  “Do you think they’ll drag it out?” Jake asked.

  “I think they’re going to play dirty,” I replied, reaching for the glass of water the waitress slid in my direction.

  After placing our orders, the conversation stalled. Cara tried to rekindle it.

  “Are you guys doing anything special for Valentine’s Day?”

  I slid a look in Eliot’s direction. “That’s a good question,” I said. “Are we?”

  Eliot shrugged noncommittally. “I can’t remember.”

  “I’m going to murder you in your sleep,” I threatened

  “Then you’ll never find out what your gift is,” Eliot replied. He cast an apologetic look in Cara’s direction. “Avery is having a fit because I won’t tell her what she’s getting for Valentine’s Day. Don’t take it personally.”

  Jake snorted. “Good luck keeping anything a secret from her. When we were in high school she went through my underwear drawer because she was convinced I was hiding something from her.”

  “Were you?”

  “Maybe,” Jake conceded.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Maybe my ass,” I said. “You were going to football camp and you weren’t planning to tell me until the very last second.”

  “That’s probably because I knew you would take it so well,” Jake said.

  “What did she do?” Eliot asked.

  I was surprised he was asking questions about my time with Jake. He usually preferred pretending we didn’t have a past.

  “She egged my car, told my mother I had pot packed in my duffel bag, and then she told my football coach she was pregnant and I couldn’t possibly leave for two weeks,” Jake said.

  Eliot laughed, the sound echoing throughout the diner. “Nice. It’s good to know you’ve always been a pain the ass, Trouble.”

  “He shouldn’t have lied,” I said, refusing to admit wrongdoing.

  “Yeah, well, I was grounded for two weeks and couldn’t see her anyway,” Jake said.

  “Whose fault was that?”

  “Yours.”

  While Eliot appeared relaxed and comfortable with the conversation, Cara clearly wasn’t. “What are you going to do to Tad Ludington next?” she asked, directing the conversation to a topic more comfortable for her.

  “I’m going to find out who is funding him and get his little group disbanded,” I said. “I’m going to drum up public outrage, and when I’ve finally gotten what I want and he’s sitting on the ground crying like a little girl, I’m going to do a happy dance around him and hope the television cameras catch it for the evening news.”

  “And that’s my girl,” Eliot said, shaking his head. “I guess I know what my future is going to look like if we ever break up.”

  “Just don’t give her your mother’s phone number,” Jake said, grinning. “You’ll live to regret it.”

  “THAT wasn’t so bad,” Eliot said, hopping into his truck and slipping the key into the ignition an hour later. “I think things are finally beginning to thaw between Jake and me.”

  “I don’t think I can say the same thing about Cara,” I said. “She didn’t like the trip down memory lane. You noticed that, right?”

  “I did,” Eliot said. “I think you intimidate her.”

  “I was perfectly nice.”

  “You were. I’m proud of you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Eliot sighed, weariness wafting off of him. “You’re never going to like anyone Jake dates. I know that as well as you do.”

  “I don’t care who he dates,” I scoffed. “I care who you date.”

  “That’s good,” Eliot said. “I know you still care about who he dates, though. There’s no reason to get defensive about it.”

  “Who says I’m defensive?”

  “Avery, ever since Jake told you he loved you when he thought he was dying you’ve been weird around him,” Eliot said. “I keep hoping you’ll relax, but I don’t see it happening any time soon.”

  My heart jumped into my throat and my lungs ceased working. What did he just say? Did he … how … who told him about Jake’s deathbed proclamation? I certainly didn’t. That was one secret I was taking to take to the grave.

  A few months earlier, while trying to save me from a stalker bent on my bloody end, Jake was shot in the chest. As I tried to stem the flow of blood, his life pulsing red between my fingers, Jake told me he loved me before passing out. Because I’m mature and handle emotional turmoil like any woman in her late twenties, I spent the next few weeks avoiding him. After locking me in his office and forcing my hand, Jake and I came to an agreement. We cared about each other, but our lives were too different to overlap. We could be friends, but we couldn’t love each other. Not that way.

  Given Eliot’s insecurities regarding Jake, I decided the best course of action revolved around nondisclosure. Eliot never needed to know what Jake said to me that night. And yet now … .

  “Who told you that?” I asked, finally finding my voice.

  Eliot glanced at me, his face unreadable in the dim light. “Jake.”

  “When?”

  “He told me when you were busted down to sports,” Eliot said. “You were acting weird and I knew something was going on, so I asked him about it. He told me what happened.”

  “I … but … that was weeks ago,” I said. “Why didn’t you yell at me? Why didn’t you confront me about it?”

  “I thought you’d been through enough,” Eliot said gently. “Avery, I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t blame you for not telling me either. It’s not as if you cheated on me. Don’t ever do that, by the way. I’m not going to take it well if it happens.”

  “I would never cheat on you,” I said, my voice weak. “I don’t understand, though. Why aren’t you fighting with Jake?”

  “Because Jake told you how he felt when he was convinced he was dying,” Eliot said. “He wanted to make sure you were going to be okay if something happened to him. He wasn’t trying to steal you away from me. He knows that’s not going to be tolerated, by the way.”

  “But … aren’t you angry? You and Jake seem closer than ever.”

  “Jake and I are trying to find a happy medium,” Eliot said. “I’m not sure we’ll ever be friends again. There’s a lot of water under the bridge there and most of it doesn’t revolve around you. We’re doing our level best to figure out a way to coexist, though.

  “I know that he’s always going to be a part of your life and I’ve come to accept it,” Eliot said. “He knows I’m not going anywhere, despite your mouth. We’ve put it behind us.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you knew?”

  “At first you were grappling with it,” Eliot replied. “I wanted to see whether what he said would change the way you felt about me. If anything, our relationship grew stronger during that
time. After that, I didn’t want to freak you out. You have a tendency to fly off the handle.”

  “I do not.”

  “It’s really okay, Avery,” Eliot said. “I’m not angry. I’m not … jealous. I’m actually glad this is all out in the open now. We don’t have any secrets between us, and that’s the way I like it. It’s okay to be you. You know that, right? I happen to like you … even when you’re mouthy.”

  “You’re obsessed with my mouth,” I grumbled.

  “It is one of your finer attributes,” Eliot said, his smile soft and charming. “Is there anything else you want to talk about? If so, let’s do it now. I don’t want this hanging over us when we get back to your place.”

  “I do have one more question,” I said.

  Eliot waited.

  “What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?”

  “If you keep this up I’m not going to get you anything,” Eliot warned. “Good grief. This is going to be the longest week of my life. I just know it.”

  Six

  “I think you’re bucking for Boyfriend of the Year honors,” I said, smiling as Eliot slid a plateful of eggs and potatoes in front of me the next morning. We were in the kitchen, me sitting and poring through today’s edition of The Monitor while he slaved away over a hot stove. I could get used to this.

  “Not everyone likes cereal five days a week, especially when the only cereal in the house is Fruity Pebbles,” Eliot said.

  “That’s the best cereal ever.”

  “Only in your world,” Eliot said. “I’m going grocery shopping this afternoon. Do you have any requests?”

  “Tomato juice and pickles.”

  “Anything else?”

  “More Fruity Pebbles.”

  Eliot made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat and sat down next to me at the table.

  “Don’t forget about dinner tonight,” I reminded Eliot, causing him to make a face. Family dinners at my grandparents’ restaurant in Oakland County were a weekly ordeal. I was required to attend and I’d given him an out, but he refused to take it. As long as work didn’t legitimately get in the way, Eliot was next to me in the family booth every Friday without fail.

  “Have I ever forgotten family dinner?”

  I shook my head.

  “I won’t forget tonight,” he said. “I’m hoping your grandfather has his world-famous spaghetti on the menu. This time of year always makes me want comfort food.”

  “February really is the worst month of the year,” I said. “Thankfully it’s short.”

  “What are you doing today?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s Friday, so I don’t want to do anything in depth. I’ll probably make some calls on Julia Grisham and see if I can do any digging on TOOL.”

  “By digging, do you mean going after Ludington?”

  “No,” I replied, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. He was like a mother hen sometimes. “I mean I’m going to schmooze the secretaries at the county building and see whether anyone knows anything. He’s not a popular guy. Someone has to have dirt they’re willing to share.”

  “Okay,” Eliot grunted. “Be careful. If he approaches you … .”

  “I’ll kick him in the nuts and call you straight away,” I supplied.

  “Call me first,” Eliot said. “I’ll handle the nuts kicking. I don’t want you to get fired.”

  “Honey, if anyone is kicking him in the nuts it’s darned well going to be me.”

  “Fine,” Eliot conceded. “I still want you to be careful.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Don’t ever call me that. It’s not even a little bit cute.”

  “I’ll tell my mother you said that at dinner tonight,” I said, glancing at the counter as my cell phone dinged with an incoming text message. “Crap. I’ll bet that’s an assignment from Fish.”

  “Call in sick,” Eliot suggested. “If you do, I’ll find someone to cover for me at the pawnshop and we can start our weekend early.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “You know my mother can smell sex, right?” She actually told me that when I was a teenager and she was trying to keep me out of the backseat of Jake’s car. It didn’t work then either.

  “You’re really grossing me out this morning,” Eliot said, watching as I retrieved my phone and sat back down at the table. The message was short, but it changed my day in a multitude of ways. “What is it?”

  “Julia Grisham was found dead on the south side of Warren last night,” I said, keeping my gaze on the text message. It wasn’t going to change, but I was trying to digest the news.

  “Do you think the husband did it? You seemed keen on the idea he was hiding something yesterday.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I need more information. He’s definitely skeezy, though.”

  “Skeezy?”

  “He looks like the type who pays women for sex,” I explained.

  “How can you possibly know that?”

  “A woman always knows,” I said, tapping the end of his nose. “Don’t you forget it.”

  “I can barely keep up with you,” Eliot said. “I most certainly don’t want to add another mouthy female to this mix, and I’m not paying for anything.”

  “Except my Valentine’s Day gift,” I muttered.

  “Let it go, Avery.”

  I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I need to go to the scene. The cops are still there and Fish sent a photographer.”

  “Do you think the body is still there?”

  “I have no idea,” I replied. “I want to get a feel for the scene, though.”

  Eliot watched me for a moment, his face unreadable. “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “What? Why?”

  “I … you know why.”

  “You don’t trust me to do my job?”

  “I trust you to do your job,” Eliot said. “I don’t trust you not to rush headlong into another murder mystery and get yourself in trouble.”

  “I never do that,” I protested.

  “Since I’ve met you, killers have tried to run you over, stab you in a basement, dismember you in the woods, shoot you, shoot you again, gang rape you and then stab you, and generally kidnap you because you won’t keep your nose out of anyone’s business,” Eliot said.

  “Fine. I hardly ever do that.”

  “I’m going with you,” Eliot said firmly.

  “Eliot … you have to learn to trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” Eliot said. “I’ve trusted you with my heart. That’s why I’m going with you.”

  His words warmed me and stoked my temper at the same time. “I can only put up with so much.”

  “Join the club.”

  “WHAT do you think?” I asked an hour later, moving up beside Eliot. We were on the other side of the police line, the Warren Police Department conducting business a few feet away.

  Julia Grisham’s body had been dumped in a vacant parking lot. To be more precise, her body was dumped in the trunk of her car and the vehicle was abandoned in the lot. No one knew how long it had been there. At least the cops weren’t letting on, if they knew.

  “I think this parking lot is secluded,” Eliot said, putting his keen security mind to good use as he scanned the area. “There are trees on three sides to block the view.” He pointed so I could follow his train of thought. “There’s only one way in or out of this parking lot. There are no businesses with security cameras to catch footage of the killer, and if he was smart he parked here and left on foot in the middle of the night. No one is dumb enough to get involved in anyone else’s business in this neighborhood.”

  “What makes you think the killer is a man?”

  “You’re right. I have no idea whether the killer is a man or a woman. Statistically, it’s a man, though.”

  “Just keep saying ‘you’re right,’” I said. “That can be my Valentine’s Day gift. You have no idea how much that turns me on.”

  Eliot grimac
ed. “You have a sick and dirty mind.”

  “Are you complaining about that?”

  “No.” Eliot rubbed his hands over my shoulders in an attempt to ward off the cold. “How long are you going to wait here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m … conflicted.”

  “Do you want to expand on that?”

  “Who has jurisdiction here? The body was found in Warren. That doesn’t mean she was killed in Warren. The last place the victim was seen alive was in Detroit. Does Detroit have jurisdiction? Did she make it home? Did her husband kill her there? If he did, does that mean St. Clair Shores has jurisdiction?”

  “Your mind is a very busy place,” Eliot said, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “I don’t know. Those are good questions. I … huh … here come some answers.”

  I snapped my head in the direction Eliot was looking, smirking when I caught sight of the Macomb County Sheriff’s Department Range Rover. The man sitting behind the wheel was familiar. “It’s Derrick,” I said, gleeful.

  “I don’t know why that excites you,” Eliot said. “He’s not going to give you special treatment.”

  “I didn’t say he was.”

  “Why are you excited then?”

  “Because I can blackmail him for information,” I said. I knew exactly what carrot I was going to dangle, too.

  Derrick was almost upon the crime scene before he caught sight of me. I love my cousin. No, I really do. He’s saved me countless times. As an only child, he and his sister Lexie were the closest thing I had to siblings. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t use our relationship to my advantage.

  “I should’ve known you would be here,” Derrick said, dejectedly shuffling up to us.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How is the sheriff’s department involved in this?”

  “We’re compiling a task force,” Derrick said. “Don’t smile like that. It’s not a secret. We’re sending out a news release in an hour. You’re not going to scoop anyone.”

  “Are you in charge of the task force?”

  “I am,” Derrick said. “That means you’re not getting any special favors. I’m not Jake. I’m not going to kowtow to you.”