Off the Record (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 10)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Which has turned into a big story,” I reminded him. “We’re doing some background searches, and I should have more this afternoon. But I have to talk to the victim’s mother before the other vultures find her.”

  “How did you find her?” Marvin asked, his anger turning to curiosity. “Everyone looked last night. We couldn’t find her in the phone book.”

  “That might be because no one uses phone books any longer.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  I did, so I reined in my temper. “Eliot helped me,” I admitted, cocking an eyebrow in my boyfriend’s direction and shaking my head when I saw the smug smile on his face. “I had to do him a favor first, though.”

  “Oh, you guys are so sick,” Marvin complained. “Did he make you pretend you were dead?”

  “No, he made me pretend I was a cowgirl and he was a horse. That’s beside the point.”

  “Sick,” Marvin hissed.

  I ignored him. “I have to track down the mother today, and then there’s a news conference at the sheriff’s department. That means I need someone to cover the festival.”

  “I don’t want to cover the festival,” Marvin groused. “That’s boring.”

  “Yes, but it could lead to bigger stories,” I reminded him. “Plus, well, you do love women in the service industry. Those carnie women are sort of in the service industry.” Plus they have very low standards, which could only help Marvin, I silently added.

  “You have a point,” Marvin mused. I could practically see him mulling the endless possibilities on the other end of the call. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to find some fluff piece of crap to write about the festival and then keep your eye on a guy named Jess,” I instructed. “He has long dark hair and kind of looks like a younger version of Johnny Depp. He’s really hot … especially for a carnie.”

  “I’m sure I can track him down,” Marvin said dryly. “Do you think he’s guilty?”

  “I think there’s something off about him. That’s all I can tell you.”

  “Okay, I’ll do it.” Marvin sounded resigned. “You’re just lucky I love carnival food.”

  He wasn’t the only one. “I’ll be in touch this afternoon. Text me if you come up with anything.”

  “I’m on it … and you owe me.”

  I disconnected the phone and glanced at Eliot. His eyes were lit with mirth and he seemed to be having a good time. “Marvin is going to watch the fair. That means I can help you take a load out to the new house before talking to Teyona’s mother.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “On the bad side of Gratiot.”

  Eliot shifted, tugging me a tad closer. “Avery, maybe I should go with you. We can take the load and then finish out the morning with breakfast and your interview.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “I think you mouth off to people all of the time and maybe that’s not the area you want to be doing it in.”

  He had a point. Still … . “I’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll finish talking about it during the drive,” Eliot said, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “We need to hop in the shower and get moving.”

  “That sounds like a plan.” I gripped his hand. “Do you think I’m mean?”

  “Is this about what Marvin said?”

  I nodded.

  “I think you’re strong,” Eliot clarified. “I think some people tend to mistake strength for meanness.”

  “That was a good answer.”

  “I also think you’re mean,” Eliot added, grinning when I playfully smacked him. “That’s not a bad thing, Trouble. It totally turns me on when you make grown men and women cry.”

  “You’re a weird guy.”

  “That’s why we work. Come on. Let’s move. I believe you still owe me some shower sex as part of our negotiation from last night.”

  Huh. I’d totally forgotten about that. The day was looking up.

  DUE TO my unnatural attachment to my pop culture collection – and the fact that I trusted no one but Eliot and me to move the items – our entire Wednesday load consisted of office decorations from the Roseville house. Eliot seemed flummoxed by the fact that we could fill two vehicles with Star Wars kitsch, but I was oddly proud.

  “Okay, which room do you want for your office?” Eliot asked once we reached the new house. We stood on the catwalk on the second floor, rooms at either end. I kept one ear on him while I stared at the main floor below us. Something felt … off. I couldn’t put my finger on what, though.

  “Avery, are you listening to me?”

  I jerked my head in Eliot’s direction. “What?”

  Eliot scowled. “I feel so loved when you let me yammer on and on and you don’t respond.”

  “I’m sorry.” I clutched the box I was carrying closer to my chest. “I’m starting to feel like the house is haunted again.”

  Eliot lowered the box he carried to the carpet and pinched the bridge of his nose as he blew out a dramatic sigh. “Oh, well, great. I saw this coming.”

  “I’m not freaking out,” I snapped, my temper flaring. “But I swear there’s something different about this place from yesterday. Don’t you sense it?”

  “I sense you melting down soon,” Eliot replied. “Do you think we can get all of these boxes delivered to the appropriate rooms before you do it?”

  “I … guess.” He was starting to agitate me. That didn’t seem fair given the circumstances – and if a ghost attacked while we slept I would need to use him as a human shield to make my escape – so I tugged on my limited patience and remained calm. “An evil presence has been in this house. I can feel it.”

  “Okay.” Eliot held his hands up and forced a smile that bordered on a grimace. “We’ve discussed this a few times, Avery, but you’ve yet to make a decision. Which bedroom up here do you want for your office?”

  That was a good question. The house had three bedrooms on the second floor and a master bedroom on the main floor. Eliot planned to snag one of the upstairs bedrooms for his office. I needed to choose another for mine, and then we would turn the final room into a guest bedroom.

  “Let’s discuss our options,” Eliot suggested. “The room at the far end of the catwalk is set apart from everything, including the bathroom. You tend to drink iced tea like it’s going out of style when you work, so you might want to be closer to the bathroom.”

  “That’s true.” I chewed my bottom lip. “I like the idea of that room being by itself, though. That room is above our bedroom.”

  “Why is that important?”

  “Because we can’t make that the guestroom,” I supplied. “If people stay in it they might hear us … doing stuff. That room either has to be your office or my office, because I’m not keeping my voice down. Life is too short to stay quiet.”

  Eliot pursed his lips, his eyes lighting up. “That’s an interesting way to look at it. How about I take that room as my office? You can take the biggest room as your office. Then we’ll turn the room here at the back – the one that overlooks the pool – into a guestroom.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.” I shuffled from one foot to the other, uncomfortable.

  Eliot leaned over to grab the box he’d set down a few minutes earlier and frowned when he saw the way I stared at the main floor. “Are you going to turn this into a thing? You’ve been so good.”

  “It’s my mother.” The words were barely a whisper when they escaped my lips, but the moment I uttered the statement I realized I was correct.

  Eliot was understandably confused. “What’s your mother?”

  “The evil presence,” I replied. “It’s my mother.”

  “I don’t understand.” Eliot followed my gaze as I stared at the empty living room. “You think your mother has somehow died and is haunting our new house?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Yes, this is certainly not the time for that.”

  “I’m not sayin
g my mother is dead,” I explained. “She’s been here, though. I can … smell her.”

  “What does she smell like?”

  “Judgment and belittling disappointment.”

  “Oh, well, as long as she’s not stealing anything, I’m fine with it.” Eliot shifted the box to his hip and moved to the room that would become my office. “Let’s unload this stuff, Avery. Then I’ll buy you breakfast and send you on your way for the day.”

  I took a moment to continue staring. I could practically smell her perfume wafting through the room. It was a custom fragrance used by those who want to secretly control the world – and not in a good way, like me.

  “She’s up to something,” I muttered.

  “Yes, she’s evil and the world is going to end,” Eliot called over his shoulder. “Start working and stop obsessing.”

  That was easy for him to say. I was much more excited by the prospect of a ghost haunting the house. If my mother was going to start making regular appearances, the end of the world was clearly near.

  16

  Sixteen

  Thanks to Eliot’s excellent investigation skills I managed to find Teyona Davidson’s mother with minimal difficulty. She lived in a small ranch-style house on the not-so-great side of Gratiot. Macomb County is vastly safer as a whole than much of the Detroit area, but there are pockets of instability. Lee Davidson lived in one of those pockets.

  I gave the area a good scan when exiting my car – internally thankful that my vehicle was so crappy there was no reason to steal it. I fobbed the security system just in case. I was hopeful, because it was a bright summer day and I had no intention of overstaying my welcome, that I would still have a ride when I exited the house. For all I knew, Lee Davidson wouldn’t let me past the threshold. I briefly considered stopping at the office long enough to snag a company car, but I didn’t want to tip off other media representatives in case they were scouring the neighborhood. It was a calculated risk, but beating everyone else to the story was more important than keeping my car.

  Huh. Sometimes I see why Eliot worries about my priorities. They might be a bit skewed. I should probably think about that a bit. Oh, who needs that? I’m perfect.

  I took a moment to study the yard as I strode up the front walkway. Even though she lived in a rundown section of the city, Lee Davidson clearly took pride in her home. The lawn was mowed and edged, and the flower banks at the front of the house were weeded and arranged beautifully.

  I knocked on the door and waited. I could hear someone shuffling on the other side, but it was still early enough that I worried I might’ve caught the woman while she was in bed. When the door finally opened, the woman who stared back at me had disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes. She looked as if she’d cried enough to fill buckets … and then use those buckets to bathe in. Lee Davidson looked wrung out. I couldn’t blame her.

  I adopted an even and sympathetic tone as I held out a business card. “My name is Avery Shaw. I’m a reporter with The Monitor. Are you Teyona Davidson’s mother?”

  Lee opened the door further and accepted the card, blinking rapidly as the sunlight hit her face. She stared at the rectangle of paper for a moment before speaking. “You’re the reporter who is always on the news, aren’t you?”

  However dubious, that was my claim to fame in some circles. “Not by choice.”

  “You’re kind of famous, though, right?”

  I shrugged. “I believe in doing my job to the best of my ability and sometimes that means I find trouble. I don’t always go looking for it.” That was mostly true. “Ma’am, I know this is a difficult time for you, but I’d like to a write an article celebrating Teyona’s life. If you don’t feel up to it, I understand. I don’t want to intrude on you during your grief.”

  Lee’s brown eyes were keen as she looked me up and down. I’d opted for a respectful Star Wars shirt today – one with only an illustration of Chewbacca hanging at the beach – and I doubted she could find fault with it.

  “You’re here because you want information,” Lee said after a beat. “You’ll write a story on my daughter because it’s your job, but you’re hoping I’ll be able to help you with a bigger story down the line.”

  She wasn’t wrong. “There’s no reason we can’t do both,” I offered. “You might be thankful to have a nice article about Teyona’s life once the dust has settled … we can use multiple photographs if you have them. I know it seems like the most difficult thing in the world right now, but you might want it eventually.”

  Lee sighed, the sound shaky and sad. “I’ll consider it, but I want to know something first.”

  “Okay.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “I’m … not sure what you’re asking?” I shifted from one foot to the other. “Were you hiding?”

  “This house is listed in my mother’s name,” Lee said. “We don’t share the same last name. I didn’t bother to change the deed after she died. The sheriff’s department warned me yesterday that reporters might start flocking to my door. They said I would have an easier time of it because I was living in my mother’s house. That doesn’t appear to be the case. So, I’ll ask again, how did you find me?”

  Even though she’d lost her daughter I could tell that Lee Davidson was a force to be reckoned with. She was a strong woman, and I’d invaded her personal space. If our roles were reversed, I’d be kicking some reporter’s rear end. I didn’t blame her for being suspicious.

  “The truth?”

  Lee nodded.

  “My boyfriend works in the security field. He pays a lot of money for this search program so he can find people,” I said. “I whined last night until he found you for me.”

  Lee’s lips twitched. “Do you owe him a favor?”

  I thought back on the extra-long shower from this morning. “We’re even.”

  “Well, at least you’re honest.” Lee pulled open the door and ushered me inside. “Come on. I’ll talk to you. You need to excuse the mess. I have no interest in cleaning right now.”

  “I don’t blame you.” I followed Lee to a small kitchen and sat at a dinette set while she poured coffee. I took the steaming liquid and offered a nod of thanks before pulling out my notebook and flipping it open. “How much did the sheriff’s department tell you?”

  Lee shrugged as she settled across from me. “Not much. Actually, I was shocked when I saw The Monitor this morning. Your story told me a lot more than the sheriff did. The sheriff never mentioned the girl in Port Hope.”

  I tapped my bottom lip with the end of my pen. “Jake came out here himself? Sheriff Farrell, I mean.”

  “Yes, with another deputy. I think his name was Derrick.”

  “He’s my cousin.”

  Lee arched an eyebrow. “It’s a small world. How did you have the information about the Port Hope girl when the sheriff’s department didn’t?”

  “I happened to be in Port Hope last week and was at the carnival the night the other body was found,” I answered, opting for honesty. I told her about my camping trip, leaving out the colorful embellishments, of course. “I am bothered by the coincidence of the carnival being in the two towns at the time of the deaths.”

  “I should say so,” Lee sighed, leaning forward. “Have you talked to the carnival people? Do you think they’re guilty?”

  “I’m not fond of rushing to judgment.” That was a total lie, but she didn’t need to know it. “If someone there is guilty, though, we’re talking about one person. It’s not everyone.”

  “I know all about snap judgments,” Lee said. “I get them for living in this neighborhood even though I’m a legal secretary in Troy. People don’t understand how I can live here.”

  I was having a little trouble reconciling that myself. “This is where you grew up. I can see wanting to stay here.”

  “It’s also paid for,” Lee pointed out. “I want to stay here until I retire. I can live here for free, so that allows me to put a lot of money away. I was going to give
the house to Teyona and move to a condominium in a safer community in a few years. I guess that’s not happening now.”

  My heart went out to her. “Mrs. Davidson, what can you tell me about Teyona?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know everything, but for starters I’m curious about why she’d choose to walk home alone so late at night.” I was unsure how to press the issue without casting aspersions on the neighborhood. “I know it was only about a half mile, but at two in the morning that half mile wasn’t exactly safe for a young woman walking alone.”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Lee agreed, bobbing her head. “I told her I was uncomfortable with it, but she always brushed me off. She knew all of the boys in the neighborhood and claimed they’d never hurt her. Part of me believed that – it could’ve been wishful thinking – but the other part was terrified. But she always came home. Well, before this.”

  “I don’t think she got very far away from the pub,” I supplied. “I don’t think she made it to this neighborhood. If she knew the guys controlling the streets over here, she probably would’ve been safe if she made it across Gratiot. I simply don’t believe that happened.”

  “Neither does the sheriff’s department.”

  “They’re my next stop. I’ll be getting more information from them this afternoon,” I said. “I need to know what kind of woman Teyona was.”

  Lee looked affronted. “She was a good woman! She was an angel. I know a lot of people say that about their kids, but in this case, it’s true.”

  “Not that,” I clarified, shaking my head. “We’ll get to that … including a full account of her childhood and what kind of person she was in the neighborhood. I’m talking about the way she carried herself.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “For example, when she walked down the street, did she make eye contact with people or look away?”

  “Oh.” Realization dawned on Lee. “I see where you’re going. You’re trying to ascertain if she was meek and reserved or outgoing.”