2 If It Bleeds, It Leads

by Amanda M. Lee

  Jake and Eliot were having a stare-down again. Jake must have decided that there was no point in arguing, though. Either that or I would be too guilt ridden to do anything with Eliot.

  “Yeah, you can sleep on the couch,” Jake stressed.

  Eliot smirked at him. “Absolutely, on the couch.”

  “I’m not joking,” Jake warned.

  “What? I’ll totally sleep on the couch.”

  I was going to lock my door either way. It wasn’t Eliot that I didn’t trust. It was myself. And Jake was right. The guilt if something happened might just kill me.

  Fifteen

  When I woke up the next morning, it took me a few minutes to remember what had happened. Then it hit me. Eliot had slept on the couch in my house. Crap.

  I climbed out of bed and raced over to the mirror to see how I looked. It wasn’t a pretty sight. My hair was all matted on the left side. If I had to guess, I think I’d drooled on it in my sleep. Yesterday’s makeup was smeared under my eyes as well. I had been too tired to wash my face last night. And, to make matters worse, it looked like I was getting a huge zit on my chin. Great.

  I couldn’t get into the bathroom without leaving the bedroom. I decided to make a break for it. I quietly opened the bedroom door. I was hoping Eliot was still asleep. There was only a short hallway between my bedroom and bathroom, and I thought I could easily take the five steps and get into the bathroom to at least make myself less gross before I saw him.

  My attention was diverted from my mission by the glimpse I got of the dining room as I passed by, though. Something was terribly wrong. The room was . . . well, it was clean.

  I stopped in my tracks. What the? Had Eliot cleaned my house? How embarrassing. I took a step out into the dining room and realized that the living room had also been cleaned. I felt violated. You don’t just clean someone else’s house – no matter how nice it looks. He better not have moved my video games. I had them in a specific order.

  I glanced at the couch and saw that it was empty. The blanket and pillow I had given Eliot (awkwardly I might add) before locking myself in my bedroom last night were folded and placed at the end of the couch. Maybe he had left? Maybe that’s just wishful thinking because it would make things easier for me.

  I heard some shuffling in the kitchen. No such luck. I quietly started to turn back towards the bathroom when I heard a voice from the kitchen.

  “How did you sleep?”

  I glanced up at Eliot, who looked as if he’d already showered. Despite the fact that he had long hair, there was no sign of bed head. That was so unfair.

  “Yeah,” I said thickly. I was still half asleep.

  “Good. I’m making breakfast. Why don’t you take a shower? It will be ready when you’re done.”

  Making breakfast? Oh, crap, he’d noticed the bed head. My outrage at someone cooking in my house would have to wait until after I showered. I hightailed it back into the bathroom, locking the door behind me just in case.

  I climbed into the shower and let the steaming water wash over me – hoping it would take my dirty thoughts about Eliot joining me in the shower with it. On a whim, I took the time to shave my legs – not that I was doing it for any specific reason or anything. Once I got out of the shower, I almost felt like a human being again.

  I quickly dressed in a pair of jeans, grabbing a ‘Jaws’ T-shirt and pulling it over my head. I went into the kitchen with my hair still wet and no makeup. There was no need to get gussied up; he’d already seen me at my worst.

  When I walked into the kitchen, I could see that he was cooking over the stove and he’d actually set out dishes on my small kitchen table. The kitchen had been cleaned as well.

  “When did you have time to clean?”

  Eliot didn’t take his attention from the omelet he was cooking. “This morning, while you were still asleep.”

  “Didn’t you get any sleep?”

  “Some, but your neighbors got in a slap fight on the front lawn around 2 a.m. and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Didn’t you hear them?”

  “Not really. They do it all the time. I guess I’m just used to it.”

  “And the stoners who live across the street, do they always go out to cheer on the fight?”

  “Yeah, they find it entertaining.”

  Eliot brought the pan with the omelet over and split it up on the two plates. He then brought a pan of hash browns over and split them up as well. I noticed he’d already poured me a glass of tomato juice.

  “You don’t have a lot of food in your house.”

  “Didn’t you look in the freezer?”

  “Hot pockets are not food.” Shows how much he knows.

  “I usually have cereal.”

  “Yeah, I saw the Fruity Pebbles and Cookie Crunch.”

  I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I dug into the omelet. It was delicious. He’d put fresh tomatoes and canned mushrooms in it. I didn’t even know I had mushrooms.

  “Wow, this is good.”

  “Are you surprised?”

  “A little.”

  We ate in silence a few minutes. Neither one of us was quite sure what we were going to talk about.

  “So, what are you going to do today?” Eliot finally broke the silence.

  “Nothing. It’s Sunday. It’s video game day.”

  Eliot raised his eyebrows. “You have a specific video game day?”

  Doesn’t everyone?

  “So you’re not going anywhere?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t have any plans to. Nothing is going on. I don’t have to work or anything. Why?”

  “Because I have to go take a shift at the shop. I just want to make sure you’re not going to be doing anything stupid.”

  “I don’t do stupid things.”

  “Right.”

  We ate the rest of the meal in silence and had an awkward goodbye. Eliot said he would call me later to make sure everything was all right. He stressed I should call him if anything hinky happened. I promised I would, but we both knew it was a 50-50 proposition.

  After he left, I searched through my video games. I had a whole afternoon to burn, so I settled on the new ‘Star Wars’ game I had just picked up for the Kinect. I could get some exercise while playing this way. And people think I can’t multitask.

  I had been playing for about a half an hour when my phone rang. I saw it was Derrick calling from his cell phone.

  “What’s up?”

  “Grandma and Grandpa’s house was broken into last night.”

  “What? When?”

  “Around 3 a.m.”

  “Are they okay?”

  “Yeah, they’re fine, but I think you should come up here.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, because your house was broken into last night, too. “

  “So.” I really didn’t know where he was going with this.

  “So maybe they’re connected.”

  “Why would they be connected?”

  “Why would anyone break into Grandma and Grandpa’s house?”

  He had a point. They did a decent living with the restaurant, but they were by no means rich.

  “I’m on my way.”

  It took me about an hour to get to my grandparents’ house. They live in the same town where the diner is located. It has one stoplight (six bars and two bowling alleys, though, explain that one to me) and only two main streets, so I managed to navigate through town without running into any traffic problems.

  When I got to the house, there were two uniformed officers outside taking notes and interviewing people. I noticed that Derrick was standing off to the side talking to another officer. He was gesturing wildly and, when he caught sight of me, he gave me a dirty look. It reminded me of the time I caught him hiding in the bed of my pickup truck and purposely slammed on the brakes so he almost flew over the cab of the truck.

  I walked briskly up to him. I wasn’t all that thrilled with him lately either, quite frankly.

  “You ar
e in so much trouble,” he growled.

  “Well, you suck balls.”

  “What? What are you talking about? Do I even want to know?”

  “Well, I don’t like your tone.”

  “You don’t like my tone? You’re such a bitch.”

  The uniformed cop looked uncomfortable – and vaguely familiar. I think we’d gone to high school together. I couldn’t quite place him, though, which probably meant we’d made out under the bleachers at some point.

  Derrick saw my mental struggle. “You remember Craig, right?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Nope, still didn’t have a clue.

  Craig smiled winningly. “How are you, Avery?”

  “Great,” I enthused.

  “Derrick says your house was broken into last night, too.”

  “Yeah, but nothing was taken.”

  “Nothing was taken here, either,” Derrick informed me. “It was just ransacked.”

  “Are Grandma and Grandpa alright?” I know I had already asked the question on the phone, but I was really trying to deflect from any part I may have had in this situation. I still didn’t understand how the two cases could be connected.

  “They’re fine,” Derrick said tersely.

  Craig smiled again. “Yeah, your Grandpa is the talk of the town.”

  Uh, oh. “Why?”

  “Oh, he chased the robbers away. He’s a hero.”

  “Well that’s good.” I saw Derrick shake his head mutely. “That’s not good?”

  Then I heard it, my grandfather’s bellowing voice. I turned around to see him standing under the eave. I noticed he was wearing nothing but slippers and a bathrobe.

  “Why is he . . . “ I paused, my grandfather was known for three things. He was an excellent cook, he had a hair trigger temper, and he was something of a nudist.

  When I say a nudist, I don’t mean he goes to nude beaches or anything. I mean he likes to sleep in the nude. He also reads the newspaper in the nude. When you visited the house you had to make sure that you went in first and put a newspaper or blanket over his lap. Otherwise, whomever you were with, would be promised a show they didn’t want to see. Sometimes he cooks in the nude, too. At the house I mean, even he wouldn’t do it at the restaurant – at least to my knowledge.

  In addition, he liked to skinny dip. My grandparents had installed an in-ground pool when we were young. It had a diving board and was the reason all of us were such strong swimmers. At night, though, he was known to go swimming – with everything flopping about freely. Then, to make matters worse, he would air dry on the adjacent trampoline so as not to track water in the house.

  It was a running joke that you could tell the phases of the moon with Grandpa’s, um, sundial.

  I turned to Derrick, horrified.

  He could read the realization washing over me.

  “Yup.”

  “He chased them,” I swallowed hard. “He chased them naked?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Craig said with a laugh.

  “Well, at least he put a robe on before calling you guys.”

  Derrick shook his head.

  “He didn’t put it on before calling you.”

  “Nope.” Craig was enjoying himself – which totally annoyed me.

  I was dreading asking the next question. “When did he put the robe on?”

  “When I got here,” Derrick answered.

  Good grief. “When did you get here?”

  “About 15 minutes before I called you.”

  “That means . . . “ Oh, crap.

  “That means that he was running around here naked talking to the cops for hours.”

  “He’s pretty proud of himself,” Craig said.

  “I bet.”

  I could hear Grandpa retelling his story to the assembled neighbors and family members who had made their way to the house to see what was going on. I could see my mother standing next to my grandmother, trying to soothe her. She was visibly upset. I wasn’t sure it was the robbery or Grandpa’s nakedness that was upsetting her more.

  I noticed that Grandpa’s robe was only loosely cinched and that things were starting to flow freely again. I averted my eyes.

  Derrick saw what had made me look away so quickly and strode over to Grandpa and cinched the robe tighter for him. Grandpa was enjoying his audience, and he didn’t seem to notice Derrick’s actions.

  I turned back to Craig. I had noticed that there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. Nothing major. In fact, the snow would be gone within the next hour or so but I could see footprints going across the lawn. Two pairs had shoe tread. The other was clearly a barefoot set. Grandpa’s, I figured.

  “Can you match the tread on the shoes with suspects?” I asked Craig.

  “In theory, if we had suspects,” he answered. “This isn’t television, though. This isn’t a high profile murder or anything. We took pictures of the tread, but I doubt it will helps us.”

  Well, that was disheartening. So was this, my mother was making her way towards me with a purpose. Uh, oh.

  “Your house was broken into, too?”

  “Only a little, Mom.”

  “Only a little? What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I mean, only a little. Nothing was taken.”

  “Your cousin Derrick seems to believe that these two break-ins are connected.” Damn him to hell.

  “I don’t see how.”

  “Why was your house broken into?”

  “I don’t know.” Not really a lie. I didn’t know. Not really.

  “You know, I’m sick of you not telling me things.”

  Oh, great, the guilt police. Who called them?

  “I just didn’t want to worry you.”

  “And what about this Eliot Kane person. The one who stayed at your house last night? Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

  I glared across the lawn at Derrick. Big mouth.

  “He just stayed to make sure that I was safe.”

  “So you’re not dating him?”

  Dating? No. Imagining him naked? That was another story.

  “No, Mom, I’m not dating him.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.”

  “You haven’t even met him. Why is that a relief?”

  “Derrick told me he owns a pawnshop.”

  “So?”

  “So, that’s not a nice man. Now Jake, he is a nice man. Why don’t you get back together with him?”

  The world according to my mom is black and white sometimes. Cops good. Pawnshop owners bad.

  “I’m not dating Jake, either.”

  My mom pursed her lips sadly. “I know. You should, though.”

  I wasn’t having this conversation. Not now. Hopefully, not ever.

  “Mom, Grandma looks upset.”

  My mom was momentarily distracted and I took the opportunity to move back towards Derrick.

  “You are unbelievable. Why did you tell her Eliot spent the night at my house?”

  Derrick looked nonplussed. “She was worried about you staying in that pit alone.”

  “Pit?”

  “It’s filthy.”

  “I’ll have you know, my house is spotless right now.” Well, it was. I just hadn’t done the cleaning.

  “You get a maid?”

  I hate Derrick sometimes.

  My Grandpa was telling the story again. It seemed new neighbors had showed up. Clearly he wasn’t traumatized by the event.

  “And I told the cops not to be confused when they got here,” he was saying. “That third footprint is mine.”

  Wait, was he talking about what I thought he was talking about?

  I turned to look at him; he was undoing his robe to emphasize his point.

  Oh, my gawd!

  Sixteen

  When I got back into my car, I started searching through the glove compartment for a pack of cigarettes. They were probably six months old, but I needed them. I’m a stress smoker. Sue me.

  Unfortunately, the glove compartment was empty.
I opened the hidden compartment in the armrest next to me and was surprised by what I found. It was the flash drive I had taken from the warehouse yesterday. I had forgotten all about it, shoving it in the compartment for safekeeping and then getting distracted by my costume hunt.

  For a second, I wondered if this is what the robbers had been looking for. I didn’t know how anyone could have seen me take it, though. I needed to get a look at it now to be sure, though.

  I knew I couldn’t take it inside and put it on my grandparent’s computer without answering a lot of questions. Plus, Derrick was still here and he’d make me show it to Jake and admit I’d stolen it. I wasn’t even sure there was anything important on it – for all I knew it could be porn or something. Yes, I’m rationalizing, I know, but I don’t want to admit I’m a great big thief if I don’t have to.

  Luckily, my laptop was still in my car so I made my way to the lone downtown coffee shop in my hometown. I knew it had wireless. Too bad the coffee wasn’t great. Actually, the coffee is awful.

  I ordered my coffee and purposely took a seat that had my laptop facing a wall. I wasn’t sure what was on the flash drive, but I didn’t want to take any chances. I grimaced as I sipped the coffee. Where was a good Starbucks when you needed one?

  I plugged the flash drive into the computer. There was only one file on the drive and it was labeled “tomorrow.” That was an odd file name. I double clicked on it.

  What came up was just a mess of letters and numbers. There was nothing readable on it. I was flummoxed. It was either encoded or I didn’t have the right program to open the file.

  Now what to do?

  I could take it to Jake, but he would be mad I hadn’t told him about it sooner (not to mention the fact that I’d stolen it from a crime scene). That didn’t seem like a viable option.

  That left Eliot. He’d be mad, too. To be fair, though, I had forgotten I even had it. I didn’t think Eliot would buy that, but he was still my best option, I figured. His tempestuous relationship with Jake would also make him leery of immediately forcing me to turn evidence over to him.

  I packed up my computer and headed back to the city. Might as well not put it off.

  When I got to downtown Mount Clemens, I stopped at my favorite coffee shop for something that didn’t taste like swill. I would need the caffeine, I figured.