“I saw the Jess guy you were talking about. He’s drawing a lot of attention from the younger girls.”
I stilled, finally interested. “What do you mean?”
“I heard some of them giggling and pointing,” Marvin replied. “They think he looks like a movie star.”
“Of course they do. Continue.”
“He caught me staring at him at a certain point and came over to talk to me,” Marvin supplied. “I was uncomfortable – you know how I get when I’m caught doing something – so I started babbling. I think he thought I was mentally challenged, so he offered to buy me more ice cream.”
I couldn’t hide my grin at the visual. “Did you take the ice cream?”
“Of course! I love ice cream.”
“Continue.”
“He talked to me a little bit, and then one of the city councilmen walked by,” Marvin said. “He recognized me, so I had no choice but to abandon my Simple Marvin routine. Then the Jess guy realized I was a reporter … and that I worked with you … and he wasn’t happy.”
That didn’t particularly perturb me. “What did he say?”
“That you’re a crazy person. I told him he didn’t know the half of it, but he took off talking to himself. He was really ticked.”
“I can live with that. Did he stare at any of the young girls or anything?”
“Not really.” Marvin held his hands palms up and I couldn’t help but notice that he had dried chocolate ice cream on the cuff of his shirt. That was fairly typical, so I let it slide. “He seemed like a normal guy … except for the part where he said he was going to run you over with his car.”
“Well, I guess my streak is intact.” I smirked. “I can seriously make a seemingly normal man lose his cool faster than a tornado rips through a trailer park.”
“Yes, you’re an absolute delight.” Marvin made a face. “Once Jess took off this really cool woman named Stella came over and we started talking. We really hit it off. I’m taking her out for dinner tonight.”
I stilled. “Stella?”
Marvin nodded.
“Stella, who looks as if she could bench-press a minivan?”
Marvin nodded again, this time happier. “Yeah, I think we’re going to have a great date. She thinks I’m adorable. She says she wants to pick me up and carry me around like a doll because I’m so much shorter than she is.”
That was a terrifying visual. “Oh, well … have fun.” That was just odd all around. I didn’t even know what to think about it. “Did you see anything else?”
“No, but I did talk to the festival organizers and I’m taking one of your fluff stories for tomorrow,” Marvin said. “I didn’t think you’d mind because you’re so focused on the murder.”
“I don’t mind.” Of course I didn’t mind. Was he crazy? I … wait a second. “What fluff story are you volunteering for?”
“Apparently one of those soap stars – she’s a freaking smoking hot blonde from General Hospital – will be at the festival. I’m going to interview her.”
Of course! He stole the one fluff story I actually wanted to do. “No way! That’s my story. She’s the chick who keeps having kids with the mobster on the show and then making fun of everyone else’s parenting abilities, even though she’s birthed murderers and crazy people. There’s no way I’m letting that story go.”
“You don’t have a say in it,” Marvin argued. “I’ve already set up the interview. She’s mine.”
“Uh-uh.”
“She’s mine and you’re stuck with it.” Marvin clearly had no intention of backing down.
“Fine.” I blew out a sigh. “I hope you’re happy. You’re ruining my day by stealing my story.”
“You’ll live.” Marvin’s grin was impish. “One more thing: I need you to tell me about this soap opera and I need you to do it in less than five minutes, otherwise I’ll lose interest in the conversation.”
Oh, well, that was taking it a step too far. “That’s not going to happen. Do your own research, you … story stealer!”
“I was only there to steal the story in the first place because I was doing you a favor.”
That was neither here nor there … and I remembered things a little differently. Sure, I remembered them the way I wanted to remember them, but that was hardly important. “I’m not helping you.”
“I figured you’d say that.” Marvin squared his shoulders. “Perhaps I’ll have Stella help me.”
I pictured the large woman in my mind. “What makes you think she’ll know anything about General Hospital?”
“She’s a woman, isn’t she?”
What was that supposed to mean? “I guess. I didn’t look in her pants, but that’s probably true.”
“Women know everything about soaps,” Marvin explained. “I think there’s some genetic component that forces women to watch soaps. It’s housed in their ovaries or something. I saw it on the Discovery Channel.”
“Uh-huh.” I tilted my head to the side, making my decision on the spot. “I think it’s a great idea. I think she’ll be a lot of help.”
Marvin beamed. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
“Make sure you tell Stella your ovary theory when you’re pitching the idea, too.” She was going to crush him like a bug. My only regret was that I wouldn’t be there to see it. “Take your phone and video her response when you ask. That way, when she explains the secrets of soaps you’ll have it all on camera.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Yeah, I’m full of surprises.”
19
Nineteen
It was still light out, which I was thankful for, when I parked in front of Lee’s house. The street was much busier than when I’d visited earlier in the day, a group of rough-looking men lounging against cars in the driveway across the street. I opted to park in Lee’s driveway so I could hurry to the door and then get out of the neighborhood as fast as possible, but it wasn’t in the cards.
The moment I stepped out of my vehicle, two of the men from the gathering across the street moved with a purpose in my direction. Instead of scurrying toward Lee’s house, which was my initial inclination, I stood my ground and crossed my arms over my chest as I waited for them to catch up. I refused to be afraid when I didn’t have reason. Of course, if they started threatening me, I was pretty sure my mouth would give me reason to be afraid.
“Who are you?”
The taller man, with broad shoulders and a bandana tied over the top of his head, looked me up and down. He had a toothpick in his mouth, which I found odd because he would’ve looked much tougher chewing on a knife or something, and he didn’t bother removing it when he spoke.
“Avery Shaw. Who are you?”
The man arched an eyebrow, clearly surprised by my aggressive response. “Andre.”
“Andre what?”
“Just Andre.”
“You have one name … like Cher?”
Andre’s lips curled. Either he found me amusing or he was imagining doing something awful to me. I hate being stereotypical – because, honestly, this guy hadn’t threatened me in any way, shape or form – but I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable given the way Andre’s cohorts stared from across the street.
“Do I look like Cher to you?” Andre asked.
“Fine. Like Tupac?”
It was a calculated risk. Thankfully, Andre appeared to have a sense of humor. He let loose a rough laugh as he shook his head. “More like Madonna,” he said after a beat. “You’re the reporter who interviewed Lee this morning, aren’t you?”
I nodded. I saw no reason to lie. “Did she tell you about that, or was it the neighborhood spies?”
“She told me.” Andre leaned against my car, his eyes glittering with interest as he took in my Star Wars shirt and Converse shoes. “We’ve been checking in on her since word of Teyona’s death. That’s a sad deal.”
“It is,” I agreed, bobbing my head, internally debating how far I could press the situa
tion. Because I had access to information I might normally be cut off from, I opted to take the plunge. “How much time do you spend running the streets on the other side of Gratiot after dark?”
Andre arched an eyebrow again, the silver ring pierced through his dark skin glinting in the sun. He was fairly good looking despite the gun handle I saw peeking from the waistband of his pants. He didn’t seem intent on hurting me, though, and I wasn’t above pushing people for information when the opportunity arose.
“What makes you think we spend any time running any streets?”
“Because I’m not stupid, and you’re carrying,” I replied, not missing a beat. “I don’t care about any of that. I know how this stuff works. I’m much more interested in Teyona’s murder than whatever you guys have planned for the night.”
The man standing behind Andre remained quiet, but was clearly listening, even as he kept swiveling his gaze from one end of the street to the other, like a radar dish. He obviously wasn’t used to people talking to Andre in anything other than reverent tones.
“I don’t know what you’re really asking,” Andre admitted. “I straight up never expected the conversation to go this long. I thought you’d run inside and send Lee out to yell at us.”
“That’s not really my style.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“So, back to the question,” I prodded. “How much time do you guys spend watching the other side of Gratiot?”
“We have to keep an eye on that area for … certain reasons,” Andre replied, choosing his words carefully.
“Dude, I don’t care what you do as long as you answer my questions.” Wait, that might’ve come out wrong. “What I mean is that I don’t want to write a story about whatever it is you guys are doing – unless you kill someone or conduct some huge drug deal, because then I’ll be all over you. I’m interested in Teyona right now.”
Andre tried to look stern, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re pretty funny. Lee said you were a straight shooter. As for across the corridor, I wouldn’t say we pay particular interest to that area.
“The courthouse and city big wigs are on that street,” he continued. “We get food from the Coney there occasionally, but otherwise we keep to our side of Gratiot.”
“Because the sheriff’s department is less likely to patrol over here,” I mused aloud.
Andre nodded. “Yeah.”
“Teyona clearly felt comfortable walking home alone that late at night,” I said, scuffing my toe against the driveway gravel as I thought. “Is that because she knew she was safe the moment she crossed Gratiot because of you guys?”
Andre shrugged. “I’ve known Teyona my whole life. She was definitely safe in this neighborhood. I don’t know what she was thinking regarding the business digs on the other side.”
“Would you have walked with her if she was feeling nervous?”
“Andre don’t walk anywhere.”
“Andre obviously talks about himself in the third person as if he’s a big douche, though,” I shot back.
The guy standing behind Andre stiffened, anger washing over his features. Andre, on the other hand, guffawed loudly.
“You something, girl!” Andre shook his head. “If Teyona mentioned she was worried, we would’ve picked her up and gotten her home. We did that when the weather was colder. She said she enjoyed the walk and she never saw anyone on the street.”
That made sense. She only ran into someone new the night she died because the carnival was in town. “What’s the feeling on the street?” I asked. “Are other girls in the neighborhood worried because of what happened to Teyona?”
Andre shrugged. “Word’s been sent out that no one is going anywhere alone until we know who did this. Why?”
“What if I told you that you might want to relocate your activities to the other side of Gratiot until the festival is over?”
Andre’s toothpick finally twitched. “I’d want to know why you believe that.”
I considered telling him the truth, and then immediately discarded the notion. Something about Andre’s body language told me that he was liable to shoot carnies first and ask questions never. That sounded like a dangerous scenario, so I opted to fudge the details a bit.
“I just think that whoever did this might take advantage of people at the festival,” I said. “I thought you might want to serve as a protective barrier for your friends and neighbors. If you’re seen over there – and at all hours – it might keep this from happening again.”
Andre tilted his head to the side, considering. “You want us to act as protection.”
“I want you to make your presence known. If you manage to protect someone, I’ll consider it a win.”
“Hmm.” Andre rubbed his stubbled chin. “If we get caught carrying on that side of Gratiot, it won’t end well.”
“Why do you need to carry?”
“You just said you wanted us to act as protection.”
“No, I said I wanted you to make your presence known,” I clarified. “I don’t want anyone shot. The mere sight of your guys will be enough to keep the streets safe for the duration of the festival.”
Andre smirked. “We are formidable.”
“Yeah, say that again when you don’t have something that looks like a diaper on your head and you haven’t talked about yourself in the third person within the past five minutes.”
Andre’s smile slipped. “Fine. While we’re doing all of the physical work, what are you going to be doing?”
“What I do best.”
“What’s that? Flapping your lips?”
I nodded. “Yep. You’re not the only one who can make people nervous.”
“I believe that,” Andre said. “We’ll take over watching the area for the festival. We can do that … for Teyona. But if we catch who killed her, we’ll handle it our way.”
Strangely enough, I found I could live with that. “Just take the diaper off your head and don’t carry while you’re over there. That place will be crawling with sheriff’s deputies. I don’t want them to miss a killer because they’re focused on you.”
Andre’s grin was sly. “What makes you think I’m not a killer?”
“Because you talk about yourself in the third person. Only nerdy losers do that.”
Andre scorched me with a dark look. “I’m starting to dislike you.”
“There’s a club if you’re interested. It meets at the Mount Clemens Public Library on the third Thursday of every month. Ask for Tad when you arrive.”
“I just might check it out.”
“You do that.”
I FOUND Eliot unpacking a takeout bag in the kitchen at the house. I pressed a kiss to his cheek, ignored the curious look he cast in my direction and moved toward the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he called to my back.
“I want to change into something more comfortable,” I shouted back. “It will just take a minute. We have a lot of packing to do tonight. I want to make sure I’m comfortable.”
Eliot appeared to be suspicious, but he didn’t say anything as I disappeared. When I returned – dressed in my Darth Vader adult Underoos – he couldn’t stop his mouth from dropping open.
“What are you wearing?”
I smiled as I pivoted in my tiny pajamas. “You’ve seen these before. I believe you said that you liked them.”
“I do like them.” Eliot looked me up and down. “But I’m trying to figure out why you’re dressed in them now.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“They also give me ideas,” Eliot muttered, shoving a takeout container on the table and tugging out the hem of the pajama top set so he could look inside. “Are you wearing anything under this?”
“I guess you’ll have to find out later.”
Eliot pursed his lips. “How are you going to help me load the cars if you’re wearing this? The neighbors will see you’re not wearing a bra and then I’ll have to punch them when they say something.”<
br />
“Huh. I didn’t even think about that.” I made an exaggerated show of tapping my lip and then blew out a frustrated sigh. “I guess I can change into something that covers more of my body after dinner. That’s probably our only option.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Eliot hedged. “Eat first.”
I sat in one of the chairs and opened my container, waiting for Eliot to join me. His eyes were narrow and filled with suspicion when he did.
“What?”
“You’re up to something, but I can’t figure out what it is,” Eliot replied. “Part of me thinks you dressed in this outfit to entice me because you did something stupid and you’re trying to distract me.”
“That’s an ugly thing to say about the woman you supposedly love.”
Eliot ignored my prim distaste. “What did you do?”
I adopted my best “I’m innocent and if you unjustly accuse me of doing wrong I’ll cry” face. “You’re hurting my feelings.”
Eliot’s expression reflected doubt. “You came in, gave me a kiss on the cheek and immediately disappeared into the bedroom to put on skimpy pajamas. Because you’re you, the skimpy pajamas have a Star Wars theme instead of lace and thongs, but they’re still cute. In fact, they might actually be cuter than lingerie.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not done.” Eliot rubbed his chin. “You don’t have any bruises I can see – and because that outfit is so tiny if you do have any hidden under there I’ll find out eventually and you’ll have a lot of explaining to do – and you seem to be in a reasonably good mood. That begs the question … what did you do?”
“Oh, geez.” I rubbed my forehead. “Why are you always so suspicious? Can’t I just want to dress in my Underoos and have dinner with you?”
“There’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear anyone say,” Eliot muttered, shaking his head. “Did you kill anyone?”
“Not yet. Your prospects aren’t looking good, though.”
“Did you threaten anyone and put yourself in danger?”
Andre’s face briefly popped into my mind, but I shook my head in the negative. “I feel like threatening you.”
Off the Record (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 10) Page 18
