2 If It Bleeds, It Leads

by Amanda M. Lee

  I was still a few minutes early, so I stopped by my cousin Derrick’s office to see if he was inside. I wanted to feel him out on the Lexie situation. I wouldn’t actually tell him what I knew, after all, but I wouldn’t mind seeing if he had any information that could bolster my understanding of her situation. I just had to be careful not to tip my hand to him. He wasn’t in his office, though, so it didn’t really matter.

  As I turned the corner towards the conference rooms, I caught sight of Derrick lounging against one of the walls (striking his best Tom Cruise in ‘Top Gun’ impersonation) and talking to one of the television reporters. If I had to guess, he was flirting. If I wasn’t feeling sick to my stomach from hanging around so many cops at once before, I definitely was now.

  My cousin Derrick is a prime example of what I don’t like about cops. He likes to flaunt his power and use it to get what he wants – whether it is free donuts or loose women. I think it got him laid a lot. Maybe tonight, at least from the looks of the giggling television reporter who kept touching his arm as he talked. I knew he wasn’t that interesting to talk to, so she must want something.

  I smirked at him as I cut around him. “Derrick.”

  When he saw me, Derrick shot his hand out and grabbed my arm. “I need to talk to you.” His grip was tighter than he would have used on someone outside his gene pool. This must be serious. Or maybe he was just being dramatic. Both were distinct possibilities. Our whole family leaned towards the dramatic – or emotionally expressive, as my mom likes to say.

  He smiled down at the television reporter – who I didn’t recognize – and assured her he’d be back in a minute. “I just need to talk to my cousin for a second.” He stressed the word cousin. Obviously he didn’t want her to think there was anything going on between us. Barf at the thought.

  The reporter smiled openly at Derrick before shooting me a dirty look. TV and print don’t get along – just for the record. Television reporters are in it for the glory and print reporters are in it to keep the public informed. It’s true. Ask anybody.

  Derrick pulled me back around the corner where we could talk in private. “I talked to Lexie yesterday.”

  Oh, this should be good. If Lexie stretches the truth with me she blatantly lies to her brother.

  “She said that you’re working on something big.”

  “Did she? Did she say what?”

  “No, she didn’t. As usual, she’s more loyal to you than me.”

  That’s another reason I like Lexie, she puts me before her own brother. She doesn’t trust cops any more than I do. It’s one of her best qualities.

  “Well, even if I was working on something, I couldn’t tell you about it. You’re a member of law enforcement, and I’m not here to do your job for you.” My inner bitch is showing – and she’s feisty today.

  Derrick was short for a cop. We were both about 5’5”. That didn’t stop him from being menacing. I think it’s the uniform. And the gun. And the fact that he used to shoot me with a BB gun when I was a kid when we were playing ‘G.I. Joe’ in the woods behind my house.

  “I’m not joking around with you, Avery,” he warned, narrowing his brown eyes grimly. “If you stumbled across something that we should know about, you’re duty bound to tell us.”

  “I’m not duty bound to anything,” I answered snottily. “I didn’t take a pledge when I got my job. I didn’t promise to put anyone else’s needs above my own.” That would never happen in my world. I have a narcissistic streak; I can admit it.

  “Avery, if you hide information from us, you will go to jail,” Derrick said. “Jake isn’t going to keep you out of jail just because you used to date, and I’m not going to keep you out of jail just because we’re related.”

  I actually had doubts about both those assertions. When push came to shove, I think both Jake and Derrick would do what they could to keep me out of jail. They’re both overtly loyal. They also like to run to help any damsel in distress in their general vicinity. I didn’t say that out loud, of course, though.

  “If I find anything I think you should know about, you’ll be the first to know,” I soothed. The good news is I actually meant this. The bad news is, I don’t think there’s anything in the world that I purposely think Derrick should know about. Just call me the semantics queen.

  Derrick didn’t believe me. He had a lot of history to prove that he was probably right on that front. I lie like a rug when it suits my purpose. Sometimes I just lie for practice, too.

  We made our way back to the conference room, where I noticed Derrick took up a position on the wall next to his little television bunny. She kept smoothing her bottle blonde (hey, I should know) pageboy haircut and smiling at him. Since she was only about 5’2” he probably seemed tall to her. That had to be it.

  I scanned the room and saw that all three major television stations were accounted for, as well as the two Detroit dailies and both of the local weeklies. It was a full house. The murder of a white woman in the suburbs is always big news. Our photographer Jared Jackson was here, too. He was making a big show of checking out the female reporters with a few of the deputies. I had a sneaking suspicion that Jared was more interested in seeing what was under the deputies’ pants instead, though. Jared was one of those guys who made sexual remarks about women every chance he got – but he still seemed more interested in men when it came down to it. I wish he’d just come out and get it over with. I’ve always wanted a fun gay friend and Jared would be a great bitchy queen.

  I noticed the room had gone silent, which probably meant Jake was here. I looked around to find him and saw him shaking hands with the television reporters before taking the podium. Jake never met a camera he wasn’t ready for. It was annoying. I tried to catch his eye before he made his way to the podium – but he was either purposely avoiding me or didn’t know I was there. I think it was probably more likely to be the former. We hadn’t exactly been on great speaking terms over the last few weeks. Totally his fault, by the way.

  Jake started out the press conference by going over what we already knew, that Darby had been shot in he parking lot of The Monitor, that whoever had did it managed not to get caught by our security cameras and that police were still looking for solid leads from the public.

  “I want to add, that we have arrested a person of interest in the case – but we can’t say he’s the one who is responsible for the death,” he added.

  Well this was news. They had made an arrest. I wonder who? So did everyone else. The room erupted with everyone trying to be the first to ask the obvious question.

  “The individual we arrested has been taken into custody for a gun violation and possession of narcotics,” Jake said. “We’re not releasing his name until after he has been arraigned.”

  “What are his ties to Ms. Pitts?” It was Derrick’s little friend. I’ve decided to call her Bunny. She looks like a bunny, a rabid little ‘Monty Python’ bunny.

  Who is Ms. Pitts? Right, why did I keep forgetting that was Darby’s last name?

  “The suspect in question used to date Ms. Pitts. They had not been tied together for some months, though. I want to stress that we have no evidence linking him to the murder of Ms. Pitts.” Then why bring it up in the first place? The cops were blatantly fishing.

  Hmm, it must be Kevin Walker. I wasn’t going to ask that in front of all the other reporters, though. I didn’t want to give them a head start on something I had been busting my ass on. Let them scramble around for it on their own.

  “When will he be arraigned?” This was me, I wanted to know how much time I had on my side.

  “He won’t be arraigned until 3 p.m. tomorrow,” Jake met my gaze for the first time since he entered the room.

  Interesting. This probably meant that the cops believed Kevin had something to do with Darby’s death, but they were trying to get more time to prove it. The cops can keep a suspect for 48 hours before arraignment. They’d probably pushed back the arraignment as long as possible
because firearm and drug charges wouldn’t keep Kevin from getting bail. And, given the fact that he was a drug dealer, he probably had enough money to pay whatever bail was set. Once he was free, there would be nothing stopping him from leaving the state. Cops are smart. They’re dirty as hell sometimes, but they are smart when it comes to manipulating civil liberties issues. You had to give them credit for that.

  Jake answered a few more mundane questions, not budging on refusing to leak the name of the suspect. Then the press conference started to break up. I noticed that the new television reporter was giving Derrick a slip of paper. I had no doubt her phone number was on it. Someone was going to get some. Sadly it wasn’t me.

  I nodded my head to Jared as I turned to leave. I was surprised when I ran headlong into Jake in the hallway. He must have exited through the other door. Shit.

  “I’d like to talk to you a second in my office, Ms. Shaw.” Double shit. That’s never a good sign.

  “Well, Sheriff Farrell, I’m on deadline so I don’t know if I have time for that. I apologize, but I have to answer to my boss.” In reality, I just don’t want to have a screaming match with a bunch of other media in the building. I have a reputation as a levelheaded reporter to uphold after all. What? I said they saw me that way, not that I really was that way.

  I noticed that Derrick’s television girlfriend was right on my heels. “What makes her so special? Are you going to give her a scoop?”

  I hoped her and Derrick’s relationship wouldn’t last too long. I was going to have to be mean to her and if he ever brought her to a family dinner that could reflect poorly on me if my mother ever found out. That wouldn’t stop me, mind you, but I would probably get a lot of grief over it.

  “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

  I noticed Derrick was right behind her and the look he was shooting me wasn’t exactly what I would call friendly. It kind of reminded me of the time that I told everyone in high school that he had crabs as a joke and he’d flattened my tires in the parking lot in retribution.

  “You’re not scared of a little competition are you, Ms. Shaw?” The way she said my name made me want to smack her and wipe that stupid bright red lipstick right off her face.

  I didn’t particularly want to hear what Jake had to say but I did want to annoy Derrick’s new plaything. I’m complex, what can I say? “I have a few minutes, Sheriff Farrell. Just make it quick.”

  I noticed that Jake realized why I was going to go with him, but he wasn’t in the mood to make a scene in front of everyone so he let it go. That is, he let it go until we got in his office and the door was safely shut behind us.

  “You only came in here to bug her.”

  No sense of denying it, Jake knew me too well. He ought to after all the time we spent together naked as teenagers. “So?”

  “You couldn’t just do it because I asked you to?” I took that as a rhetorical question and ignored it.

  “What do you want?”

  “I know you know who we have in custody, and I expect you to refrain from running the story until he’s arraigned.”

  “Do you?”

  “You could get sued for running his name before he’s arraigned.” That’s never stopped me before, and Jake knew it. “The thing is, I don’t think you’re going to run it because you don’t want the other media to know right away who it is either. Right now, you’re ahead of the pack.”

  “I’m always ahead of the pack.”

  Jake shook his head ruefully. “Only in your own mind.”

  “Was that all?”

  “No.”

  I waited. I wasn’t stupid – I know, all evidence to the contrary sometimes -- I wasn’t going to volunteer anything.

  “I want you to consider telling me what you know, Avery.” Jake had his stern and serious face on. It was adorable.

  “What makes you think I know anything?” I was in deny everything mode. This was going to end up being frustrating for the both of us.

  Jake pursed his lips in irritation. He knew when I was diverting. He looked like he was having some sort of inner struggle – probably deciding if he could get away with strangling me and somehow carrying my body out of the building without anyone noticing.

  He sat down at his desk with a heavy sigh and then turned back to me. “I know that you paid him a visit in Detroit yesterday.” Guess he’d decided against the manual strangulation.

  I noticed that Jake hadn’t said his name yet. “Who are we talking about again?”

  “Don’t play coy.”

  “I’m not playing anything.” I sat down on the corner of Jake’s desk and grabbed a piece of candy from the mosaic bowl on the corner. I unwrapped it and popped it into my mouth. Yuck, sugar free. I looked around for somewhere to spit it out. Jake was already handing me a paper towel.

  After discarding the rancid piece of candy, I turned back to Jake. “I did make a trip down to Detroit yesterday.”

  “And what did the two of you talk about?”

  “I was just looking for some information on Darby.” It wasn’t a lie.

  “What kind of information?”

  “Simple stuff. What her favorite color was. What her favorite book was. You know, just for color for the article.”

  Jake didn’t believe me. “You’re such a liar.”

  “I’m not lying. I just wanted some information about her.”

  “I’m going to be blunt,” Jake said, glaring openly at me. “If you find any information that ties Darby to anything nefarious I want to know about it.”

  “Of course. I’ll call you right away.” I’m so full of shit sometimes I even surprise myself.

  Jake sighed. “No you won’t.”

  We both knew that was the truth so we decided to ignore it. Acknowledging it would probably only result in a screaming match – and I really didn’t have the energy for that right now. Beside, if I shook my head too much my messy buns would fall out and I was looking forward to seeing my mother’s face when she saw them.

  “Is that all?” I was impatient to get out of here. I didn’t have a lot of time and I wanted to be far in front of the other reporters when things broke. Not only did it make me look good, but it also made my life easier. That’s really what was important here, after all. Hey, sometimes it is all about me.

  Jake shook his head a second and then looked at me seriously. “How are you?”

  What did he mean by that?

  “I mean, after you were almost killed a few weeks ago,” he said. “I just was wondering if you’re doing alright.”

  He was infuriating. “Well, if you really cared, I would have thought you would have stopped by. Brought me some chicken soup or something.”

  This made Jake smile openly. “Did you want me to stop by?”

  Yes. “Absolutely not.”

  “You could have called me, you know? Or do you only call when you’re in trouble?”

  Was he calling me a user? Not that it’s untrue or anything; I just wasn’t sure if he was actually calling me one or not.

  “I was getting over being hogtied and left in a basement. This was, of course, after he tried to run me over and took unflattering pictures of me with bed head. I didn’t realize that I was the one who had to call you.”

  “Well, I figured you were well taken care of.”

  Now what was that supposed to mean?

  “I mean, with Kane hanging around, I figured he’d take care of your chicken soup needs.” Jake was averting my gaze.

  Ah, of course, it always came down to Eliot. The two of them had served in Special Forces in the military together. A few months ago they hated each other. I had thought they had brokered some sort of truce. I guess I was wrong.

  “Who says he didn’t bring me chicken soup?”

  “Given your level of frustration, I would wager he hasn’t been bringing you anything.” I hated it when he was right. “I guess that surprises me. I thought you two were kind of a couple.”

  I wasn’t sure
where this was going but I didn’t like it. I certainly didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that Eliot had dropped me at the same time Jake had. That would just make Jake’s head even bigger than it already was – if that was even possible.

  I also didn’t want to lie – well, at least not about this – because if it came back to haunt me I might never live the shame down. Instead, I just ignored the situation. That’s my “go to” reaction when I’m uncomfortable. I just pretend it’s not happening and most people acquiesce to my ignorant act.

  “Listen, I have to go write this story, and then I have a few more things to track down before dinner tonight.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  I turned to leave the office. “Next time I’ll call – even though you are a walking train wreck who has the emotional stability of a 12-year-old girl with chronic PMS.”

  I whipped around and shot him the middle finger. That certainly would prove my maturity.

  Jake shook his head again. “Stay out of trouble, Avery. I can’t help you in Detroit, and you’re a magnet for trouble whatever city you’re in.”

  Sadly, I couldn’t argue with that so I just stalked out of his office.

  Ten

  I raced back to the office and hastily threw my story together. I didn’t have a lot of time left in the afternoon to track down Kevin Walker’s family and I had a dinner of my own -- with mandatory attendance no less -- scheduled for this evening at the family restaurant.

  I didn’t have time for chitchat with my co-workers – so I opted to ignore them all. This is usually a safe bet. I then ran Kevin Walker’s family through the computer to try and find a home address. After several tries, I came up empty. That was disheartening.

  I only had one option – I would have to go to the car dealership.

  I hopped in my car and headed towards Sterling Heights. As one of the bigger cities in Michigan, Sterling Heights has made a name for itself as one of the communities where the politicians hide crime (and their own nefarious deeds) while constantly touting things like being the cleanest city in the state and a never-ending string of tree plantings. It’s complete and total bullshit.