Off the Record (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 10)

by Amanda M. Lee

  “Are you going to require bail money in the next twenty-four hours?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Eliot exhaled heavily as he gripped his egg roll. “Okay. Well, then, I apologize. I’m sorry I accused you of doing something underhanded. That wasn’t fair.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  We lapsed into comfortable silence for a moment. I ate until I took the edge off my hunger and then turned to him. “You were mean and hurt my feelings, so I need you to put a little more time in on your background searches for me. I need as much information as you can find on the carnival and the workers. I also want whatever you can dig up on Tansy Gilbert.”

  Eliot’s mouth dropped open. “So this was a manipulation after all. I knew it!”

  “Do you want to apologize a second time when you make me cry?”

  Eliot frowned. “You are a master at getting what you want. I don’t see why anyone would pay a motivational speaker to get them moving when you’re around to provide lessons.”

  “Yes, it’s a conundrum.”

  Eliot made a growling noise, but bobbed his head. “I’ll put extra time in on it tomorrow. I know you’re on a timetable with this one, so I’m willing to help. You don’t need to wear skimpy pajamas while packing to convince me to do it.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Eliot wiped his hands after finishing his eggroll, his eyes never leaving my face. “How are you going to help me load the cars in that outfit? You never did explain that part.”

  “Oh, well, I think that you should load the cars,” I supplied. “You hurt my feelings and now I need to stay in the pajamas to feel better. I’m Darth Vader, after all. You’ll have to do all of the heavy lifting on your own because my shattered ego can’t take additional weight in the form of heavy boxes this evening.”

  Eliot narrowed his eyes as things clicked into place. “That’s why you did it. You don’t want to lift things.”

  “I want to lift your hand to my heart.” I did just that, snagging his finger and dragging his hand to rest against my chest. “You remember I’m not wearing a bra, right? That could benefit you under the right circumstances.”

  Eliot blew out a sigh, resigned. “I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. I’m totally going to beat you in our lightsaber battle later, though.”

  “I look forward to your attempt.”

  “That makes two of us.” Eliot grinned, genuine amusement coming out to play. “Is it any wonder that I love you?”

  “I think it was a given from the start.”

  “You know what, Trouble? I think you might be right.”

  20

  Twenty

  I had breakfast with Eliot at the Coney diner and then left him to his research – I made sure that he was motivated the night before with promises of other Underoos for the remaining nights we spent in the Roseville house – before making my way to the festival.

  It was opening day, and while the carnival wasn’t set to open until after noon, that didn’t mean I couldn’t focus on a few other things before planting myself in the middle of the carnival to spy. I started out by interviewing a few local business owners for an article on what the festival meant to their bottom line, and then tracked down the guy who runs the car show so I could get the highlights of that event. I swear my eyes glazed over as he talked about the different cars that would be on hand – I honestly don’t get the appeal of looking at old cars, but everyone has a thing, I guess. Then I made my way to Eliot’s shop to write the pieces and check up on his progress.

  Eliot didn’t seem surprised by my appearance, although the girl standing next to him behind the counter didn’t look thrilled to see me. Her name was Fawn (no joke) and she was a new member of Eliot’s workforce. She was young and had huge boobs. She also harbored a ridiculously large crush on her boss, which I tried to ignore because it made me appear petty when I commented.

  “Hey, Trouble. What are you doing here? I figured you’d be spying on the carnival people all day.”

  “I have a job to do,” I reminded him. “I interviewed car show people and business owners for two stories. I thought I might write them here and get them out of the way.”

  “Ah. In other words you rushed through your fluff stories so you can spy on the carnival workers for the rest of the day.”

  He knows me too well. “Can I write here or not? If it’s a problem I can go to a restaurant or something.”

  “It’s not a problem.” Eliot smirked. “Just don’t scare away my customers.”

  “No promises.” I carried my notebook and laptop toward his office, making a face when Fawn stepped in front of me. “Do you need something?”

  Eliot has a tendency to hire young, buxom girls to run the counter at the store. They’re all stupid, insipid and have boobs that could serve as flotation devices in the event of a water landing. I could barely keep track of the girls because of the high turnover rate – and they all looked and sounded alike. One other thing they all have in common – other than the huge racks – is the fact that they all develop crushes on Eliot. For once I’d like to see him hire a nice lesbian so I could avoid this crap … or even better, a hot guy.

  “I don’t know if this is a good idea,” Fawn said, twirling a strand of her long hair around a finger. “I mean … she’s not really working for the shop, so she shouldn’t be working in your office.”

  Eliot made an odd face. “She won’t be in the way. She has work to do.”

  “Plus he likes it when I’m close so he knows where I am,” I added. “It’s a homey arrangement because, you know, we share a home.”

  Eliot shot me a warning look. He could tell I was about to lose my cool, and he clearly didn’t like it. “She’ll be quiet. Trust me. She’s going to write her fluff pieces and then race over to spy on the carnies.”

  “I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Fawn crossed her arms over her chest. Because she wore a low-cut tank top the movement shoved her boobs up to unbelievable heights. No, seriously, I don’t believe her boobs are really that big. She either stuffs or had surgery. Maybe both.

  “Well, it’s not your place to decide if it’s a good idea,” Eliot pointed out. “This is my store.”

  “And I’m his girlfriend.”

  “Although no one can figure out why,” Fawn muttered.

  “I can figure out why,” I said. “It’s because I dress as a super villain when I want to seduce him.”

  Eliot smirked at the memory as Fawn frowned.

  “I don’t know what that means,” Fawn said. “Eliot, I’m supposed to do inventory. If she’s here, she might throw me off when I’m counting.”

  “Yeah, Eliot,” I added, adopting a faux sugary tone. “Once she gets to two she’ll be really confused and my presence will only make things worse.”

  Eliot extended a threatening finger. “Don’t make this worse.”

  His attitude irked me. “Fine. I’ll find somewhere else to write.” I clutched my laptop to my chest and moved toward the front door. “No more Underoos for you either.”

  “I think that’s best,” Fawn said, her expression triumphant. She clearly figured she’d won something. I had news for her. She hadn’t won a thing. I was simply going to make Eliot pay for her stupid mouth.

  “No, you’re writing here.” Eliot skirted around Fawn and grabbed my elbow before I could storm off. “I like the idea of knowing where you are. You weren’t wrong about that. Fawn can just get over her … counting problem.”

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing at his hangdog expression. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m clearly not wanted.”

  Eliot grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to him even though I wanted to stick my tongue out and do a terrible “don’t mess with me” dance for Fawn’s benefit. “I want you here. You’re fine.”

  I lowered my voice. “She doesn’t want me here.”

  “She’s not the boss.”

  “I think she wants you to boss h
er around a few other places.”

  Eliot blew out a frustrated sigh. “I prefer when women boss me around … clearly.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “Just go in the office and write your stories,” he instructed. “I promise everything will be fine by the time you’re finished.”

  That was a bold promise considering the circumstances. “Are you going to fire her?”

  “No.”

  “Then everything won’t be fine. Wait … can I fire her? Then everything would be ten times better than fine.”

  “You’re wearing me out, Trouble,” Eliot gritted out. “I can only take so much. Are you really worried I’d cheat on you with her?”

  I didn’t miss the fact that Fawn was trying to eavesdrop. She was either too stupid or too inept to hide her actions. I had a feeling it was a mixture of both. “No,” I answered after a beat. “I don’t believe you’d cheat on me … especially with her.”

  Eliot relaxed, if only marginally. “Thank you.”

  “You’d be bored within ten seconds.”

  Eliot rubbed his forehead. “Oh, but what a ten seconds,” he teased.

  I elbowed his stomach, causing him to huff out a groan as I walked around him. “I’ll be writing fluff pieces, so don’t bother me.”

  “But … what if I need something?” Fawn whined. “Eliot, this simply won’t work.”

  This time Eliot’s dark looked was directed at her. “If it’s not going to work, one of you will have to go. I can guarantee that won’t be her.”

  Fawn looked affronted. “But … .”

  “Avery, get your stories done. If you finish in time, I’ll buy you lunch.”

  “Great.” I graced Eliot with a sunny smile before blowing a raspberry at a dejected-looking Fawn. I won again. Who didn’t see that coming?

  I’M EFFICIENT when it comes to writing fluff. An hour later I was done. To cover my butt – and make sure Fish didn’t come up with another story no one would read – I timed my emails to go out later in the afternoon. As far as Fish was concerned, I was still working on fluff. As far as I was concerned, I could give the carnival workers my full attention.

  I found Eliot working alone behind the counter when I entered his office. I stowed my computer in a bag and put it underneath the counter as I watched him. He stared intently at his ledger book, but I had a feeling he wasn’t interested in the information there. He simply wanted to look busy.

  “What happened to your girlfriend?”

  “She terrorized my employee and forced me to buy said employee a very expensive coffee – and perhaps spring for a pedicure at some point – to make her feel better,” Eliot replied, not looking up.

  “You’re such a softie. You should’ve told her to shut up or get out. That’s what I would’ve done.”

  “Well, you’re not me.”

  He was clearly ticked off so I walked my fingers up his arm in a teasing manner as I approached. “Are you angry?”

  “Do I look angry?”

  “When you answer a question with a question that means you’re being evasive,” I replied. “I’ll take your response to mean you’re definitely angry.”

  “Good grief.” Eliot made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat as he shifted his attention to me. “Why do you always have to make things so difficult?”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who made this situation difficult,” I argued, my need to please him evaporating quickly. “She looks at me as if I’m not worthy of you and somehow I’m at fault? I came in here to write two stories. I was being good for a change. How am I suddenly the villain?”

  Eliot wet his lips, his eyes conflicted. “I guess that’s a fair argument.”

  His capitulation took me by surprise. “I … what?”

  “Oh, you’re speechless.” Eliot finally mustered a legitimate smile. “I said you made a fair point. Fawn had no right to speak to you that way, and you were behaving yourself, which almost never happens.”

  “Now you’re just shining me on.”

  “No, I’m not,” Eliot countered. “Do you want to know what your biggest problem is?”

  Oh, geez! People have been asking me that question for as long as I can remember. “I’m too smart?”

  “No.”

  “I’m too pretty?”

  Eliot’s lips tightened. “No.”

  “I’m too wonderful for words and sometimes you want to curl in a ball and cry because you feel so lucky that I chose to be with you?”

  Eliot’s bark of laughter was quick but heartfelt. “No, but that could possibly happen one day. Your biggest problem is that mouth of yours. You’re always running it. So on the rare occasion when you’re innocent – and those occasions are few and far between, honey – you catch a bad rap because everyone assumes you’re guilty.”

  “Did you just say I was innocent?”

  Eliot rolled his eyes before pressing a soft kiss to my mouth. “I simply said you’re not always guilty.” He gave my rear end a playful swat. “I’m not angry, though. You didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s no reason to be angry.”

  “What about Fawn? Are you angry with her?”

  “I don’t spend a lot of my time thinking about Fawn,” Eliot replied. “I know that boggles the mind, but I only have room in my brain … and heart … for one woman.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet.”

  “You didn’t let me finish what I was going to say,” Eliot complained. “My one woman is a mouthy terror, so I can clearly spare no time for others.”

  “That was less sweet. You hurt my feelings.”

  “That won’t work two days in a row.”

  “You could make it up to me by firing Fawn,” I suggested, batting my eyes as Eliot chuckled.

  “I’m not firing her because she doesn’t like you. If that were the rule I’d never have another employee again for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m pretty sure that was an insult, but I’ll let it go,” I said, resting my elbows on the counter as I slid my gaze to the computer he had open on top of the glass case. It looked to be running a search. “Is that work you’re doing for me?”

  “Sure, now you’re interested.” Eliot poked my side. “I’m running multiple searches. You were right about tracking down the carnival workers. They don’t have much turnover as far as I can tell, but a lot of the people are working under assumed names.”

  I stilled, pondering that information. “But … shouldn’t they have to file Social Security numbers for tax purposes?”

  “Ah, there’s my little thinker.” Eliot tapped my forehead with a pencil, not mustering a glance for Fawn as she returned through the front door. He looked as weary of her antics as I felt. “I doubt very much that Don Hamilton is paying all of his workers over the table. He doesn’t have Social Security numbers on record with the licensing board for at least half of the workers I’ve counted out there.”

  “He claimed he did extensive background checks,” I said, purposely ignoring Fawn as she edged closer to us. She seemed curious to know what we were talking about, but interacting with me wasn’t on top of her to-do list. “If he’s not collecting Social Security numbers, how is he running background checks?”

  “That, Trouble, is a very good question. I’ve got another one for you.” Eliot minimized the search window and pulled up a blue file on his desktop. “What do you see here?”

  I stared at the photo filling the screen. The man staring back was in his twenties, with dark hair and empty brown eyes. His head was relatively big for his slim body, and his pallor was sickly. “Who is he?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “I don’t know who he is,” I replied. “I’m pretty sure I would recognize that guy if I ever saw him. He could double as a human rodent, for crying out loud.”

  “I think he looks like a nice match for you,” Fawn interjected.

  I ignored her. “Obviously this guy is important. Who is he?”

  “This is Jess Hamilton.”


  I shrugged, unsure why that name should mean anything to me. “So?”

  “This is Don Hamilton’s nephew.”

  I cocked my head and took a better look at the photo. “No, that’s definitely not the same guy. The guy I met is much hotter than that. He’s, like, model hot.”

  “Say that again and I’ll buy you Disney princess Underoos and make you wear them while I laugh and take photos,” Eliot threatened, wrinkling his nose.

  “Ooh, do they make Disney princess Underoos?” Fawn was intrigued. “I’ve always wanted to be a princess.”

  Why didn’t that surprise me? “This is not the same Jess I met,” I repeated. “Although … .” I broke off, tugging on my bottom lip as I racked my brain.

  “What?” Eliot prodded.

  “I’m pretty sure my Jess’s last name isn’t Hamilton,” I said after a beat. “I can’t quite remember what it was. He said it. I remember thinking how ordinary it was.”

  “Hamilton is an ordinary last name.”

  “That wasn’t it, though.” I made a popping sound with my lips until it came to me. “Davenport. He said his name was Jess Davenport.”

  Eliot furrowed his brow. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, I’ll do a search for him when this search is done, but Jess Hamilton is listed as Don Hamilton’s nephew,” Eliot said. “What are the odds this guy has two nephews named Jess?”

  I wasn’t great at math, but I had to think they weren’t high. “Huh. I don’t know what to say or think. I’m not sure how that fits into anything.”

  “Well, it’s another question to add to the pile,” Eliot said. “I definitely don’t like this guy.”

  “Which one? The one with the Frankenstein head, or the one who looks like Johnny Depp before the alcohol caught up with him?”

  “Don’t push me.”

  “I think Eliot is much hotter than Johnny Depp,” Fawn said, flashing Eliot a flirtatious smile. “So much hotter.”

  “No one asked you,” I intoned. “In fact … .”

  I didn’t get a chance to finish because the bell over the front door jangled, drawing my attention in that direction. I had to suck in a breath to steady myself when Andre popped his head in the door.