[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater

by Amanda M. Lee

  “You’re such a suck-up.” I shook my head, my temper flaring. “The only thing you’re a model of is Hoover vacuums.”

  Fish chuckled. “That was actually a good one.”

  Duncan’s expression shifted from smug to offended. “She insulted me.”

  “That’s what she does.” Fish waved off Duncan’s imminent complaint. “Thank you for doing the extra work, Duncan. You were so productive I’m going to let you leave early.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Duncan flashed me a haughty look as he passed. “This is what happens when you’re a good worker.”

  I’m not sure I believe in karma most of the time, but when Duncan caught the toe of his shoe on the carpet seam and pitched forward I couldn’t help but believe. I barked out a laugh, the sound filling the room and causing most of our co-workers to stare in Duncan’s direction. Like any good office environment, everyone joined in on the laughter rather than rush to Duncan’s side to help.

  “It’s not funny!” Duncan’s face was a mottled shade of red as he regained his footing. “I could’ve died!”

  His reaction only made the newsroom laugh harder.

  “It’s not funny!” Duncan was beside himself. “I could’ve broken my neck. You people are … animals!”

  I shifted my eyes to Fish and found his shoulders shaking as he silently joined in the fun. He clearly didn’t want Duncan to know he found his near-death experience funny, but no sane person could have any other reaction.

  “Duncan, go home,” Fish ordered once he collected himself. “You’ve had a long and trying day. You’ve earned a bit of rest.”

  Duncan muttered something under his breath as he stalked out of the room. I waited until he was out of earshot before turning back to Fish. I wanted to be cut loose, too, but there was no way I would use the ass-kissing route to do it.

  “I want to leave.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll start reenacting scenes from Rogue One if you don’t let me leave.” Fish has never seen a Star Wars movie, but he knows me well enough to understand that I don’t make empty threats. “There’s a lot of talk about being one with the Force in that one.”

  “Fine.” Fish blew out an exasperated sigh. “Go. I don’t want another reenactment. The last one gave me nightmares.”

  “That’s because the prequels sucked.” I beamed at him before taking a step back and smiling at my assembled newsroom workers. I decided to leave on a high note with them, too. “I could’ve died,” I bellowed, mimicking Duncan’s voice to perfection and causing the room to erupt in laughter a second time.

  Pleased with myself, I turned to leave and found Duncan staring at me from the archway that led to the main hallway. Apparently he’d returned without my knowledge.

  “Death is not funny,” he hissed.

  “It is when we’re talking about you.” I breezed past him as I headed for the front lobby. “Peace out, you big baby.”

  I heard Duncan whining to Fish as I made my escape. “She didn’t do extra work. Why does she get to leave early?”

  Fish answered without hesitation. “Because sometimes the good of the many outweighs the good of the one or the few.”

  Hmm. He didn’t like Star Wars, but Star Trek was clearly a crowd pleaser. I knew all of the lines from those movies, too. I couldn’t wait to dust them off.

  I COULD’VE GONE home. In fact, I probably should’ve gone home. The idea of facing off with Eliot yet again – with no hot makeup sex in sight – was too much. Instead I parked downtown and hit happy hour at one of the bars.

  Before Eliot came into my life I frequented the Voodoo Lounge regularly, pumping the workers for gossip at least three times a week. The facility was a favorite of several Macomb County politicians, and I wasn’t disappointed when I wandered in and found Tad holding court at a table with a few of the County Clerk’s office workers.

  His face drained of color when he saw me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I heard they were employing a clown several days a week and wanted to see for myself,” I replied on my way to the bar. “It turns out that the county gossip mill is indeed alive and well. You’re my least favorite clown ever, even beating out Pennywise and Bozo.”

  “Hey, who doesn’t like Bozo?” David Bishop, the owner of the bar, flashed a smile as I sat. “What will it be?”

  “Bourbon.”

  “And what?”

  “Just bourbon … and lots of it.”

  “That sounds serious.” Bishop moved to the liquor collection and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels. He clearly remembered my bourbon of choice. “I haven’t seen much of you around these parts in recent months.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Yes, being obnoxious,” Tad called out, laughing at his own joke. He was the only one.

  I raised my eyebrows in derision before focusing on Bishop. “What’s the word?”

  “There are all sorts of words out there,” Bishop replied. “I’m guessing you’re most interested in the one that revolves around Macomb County’s favorite sheriff.”

  “That would be the word of the day.”

  “He’s not my favorite sheriff,” Tad offered.

  He was really trying to irritate me. For once, he was performing admirably at a task. “I’m going to have to gag him before the night is out.”

  “I’ll give you all your drinks on the house if you do.” Bishop’s eyes twinkled. “Speaking of the sheriff, here he comes.”

  I swiveled on the stool, my eyes going wide. Jake was indeed walking through the door, and his eyes landed on mine at the same moment my heart rate increased. All I could think was that Eliot followed through on his threat and Jake was coming to arrest me.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” My voice was unnaturally squeaky. “I didn’t know you frequented this establishment.”

  Jake sent me an odd look, but remained quiet as he took the stool next to me. He looked beaten down, which only heightened my panic. He’d arrested me once before, and the process was just as painful for him as it was for me.

  “I’m not going to jail. I don’t care what you say.”

  Jake finally shifted his expression, furrowing his brow and fixing me with a quizzical look. “What are you babbling about?”

  Hmm. That wasn’t the reaction I expected. “I wasn’t babbling. You were babbling.”

  “I haven’t even greeted you yet.”

  “Okay, well, hi.” I forced a smile as Bishop placed my drink in front of me. “What brings you to this fine drinking establishment this evening?”

  Jake blinked several times in rapid succession, his gaze weighted as he scanned my features. He must’ve finally decided he didn’t want to get in a serious discussion, because he shrugged off my odd attitude and tapped the bar. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

  “You’ve got it.” Bishop started pouring. “You two look as if you’re ready for a proper bender.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “I haven’t had one of those in a long time. Now seems the perfect time to break that streak.”

  Jake’s grin was more of a grimace than anything else. “I’m right there with you. Let’s do this.”

  TWO HOURS later I was seeing double and feeling no pain.

  “And then he caught his toe on one of those carpet seams and totally fell forward,” I said, my reflection in the mirror behind the bar proving to be hypnotic despite the state of my hair. “Everyone started laughing and he screeched like a woman. I could’ve died! It was so pathetic.”

  Jake barked out a laugh. “That sounds funny.”

  “It was totally funny.” The bar was packed, Tad still hanging with his crew at the edge of the room. I didn’t miss the occasional glances he tossed in my direction, but I was too blitzed to care. If he moved on me I would handle it. Sure, I probably wouldn’t be able to muster my usual sass and sarcasm, but I could vomit on him or something. That was bound to be entertaining, too. “So, what did you do today?”

  I couldn’t remember
if Jake had already answered the question. The conversation had taken on a circular bent, but neither of us seemed to care.

  “I called Inspector Fraser five times and waited for him to call me back,” Jake replied. “He didn’t.”

  “He’s a tool.”

  “He’s definitely a tool.” Jake sipped his bourbon. “He’s acting as if I’m a suspect … and not just a minor suspect, a major one.”

  “Don’t worry ’bout that,” I said. “We all know you didn’t do it. Fraser does, too. He just wants to be important and … um … other stuff. I found a better suspect today.”

  “You did?” Jake’s eyes were glassy, but he still looked intrigued. “Who? If you point the finger at the tool in the corner I’ll be really disappointed.”

  I flicked my gaze to Tad and narrowed my eyes when I caught him staring. He was clearly spoiling for trouble. That was good. I was ready to give it back to him. “It’s not him. I kind of wish it was, because we could kill two birds with one stone – although that saying has never made sense to me. Why would you kill birds with a stone? Why would you kill them at all?”

  Jake made an exasperated face. “You’re meandering. Go back to your suspect.”

  “I’m not meandering.”

  “You’re totally meandering. That’s what you do when you’re drunk.”

  Oh, well! That was insulting. I wasn’t even close to drunk yet. I was merely pleasantly tipsy. No, really. “You’re drunk.”

  “No, you’re drunk.” Jake took another sip. “Your suspect?”

  “Oh, right. What do ya know about Edward Haugh?”

  The question caught Jake off guard. “The attorney?”

  I nodded. “He’s the guy we saw with Cara in Meijer the Friday before the barbecue. I went to see him today. He’s odd.”

  “Odd how?”

  “He wasn’t exactly broken up over Cara’s death even though they were dating. ”

  “I wasn’t exactly broken up over her death either,” Jake pointed out. “I dated her longer.”

  “You were broken up,” I countered, my heart rolling at his expression. “You cared. I saw your face. You were … stunned.”

  “That’s not caring,” Jake clarified. “I was definitely stunned. I couldn’t quite make sense of what I was seeing. Even after I did, I never felt bad about her death. I mean … it wasn’t a pleasant way to go. And I felt bad about that. But I’m not mourning her. Don’t you think I should be mourning her?”

  It was an interesting question. I wasn’t sure I had an answer. “You didn’t love her.”

  “No.”

  “You can’t make yourself feel something you don’t feel, Jake. You’re doin’ the best you can. I don’t know what else you expect of yourself.”

  “And yet you’re doing all of the investigative legwork,” Jake noted. “You care more than I do.”

  “I don’t care as much as I want answers,” I corrected. “I want to find the truth before everyone else does. I want to win. That’s how I roll.”

  “That’s how you’ve always rolled.” Jake smirked as he gestured for another drink. “I’ll have another.”

  Bishop stared at him for a long beat. “Are you sure? You’re going to be in a world of hurt tomorrow as it is.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Okay.” Bishop turned his back and focused on pouring the drink, giving me an opening to talk about something I didn’t know I wanted to discuss until my mouth was already open and moving.

  “I broke into Cara’s house yesterday.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jake arched an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered. “Why?”

  “The door was open. I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “That sounds like you.”

  Since he wasn’t angry, I pushed forward. “She had a file on her desk, ’bout me.”

  “You?”

  “She had my high school transcripts … and yearbook … and my disciplinary file from The Monitor.”

  Jake was flabbergasted. “How did she get all of that?”

  “Eliot thinks she hired a private dick. He’s going to check it out, but I don’t know if he’s done that yet ’cause we’re fighting.”

  “Is that why you’re here instead of with him?”

  I nodded. “He’s mad. I’m mad. We’re both mad.”

  “You’ll be okay.” Jake didn’t seem too worked up about my relationship woes. “He loves you. He gets you. He won’t stay angry with you. But why is he angry?”

  “’Cause I stole the file. He said I have to tell you what I did and hand over the file. But I said there’s no way I’m doin’ that. I mean … is he cracked or what?”

  Jake snorted. “You just told me.”

  “Huh.” I hadn’t quite put that together yet. Maybe I was drunker than I thought. “Are you goin’ arrest me?”

  “No. I don’t care. You do what you do because you’re good at it. Wait … is that why you asked me if I was going to arrest you when I first came in?”

  I nodded and swallowed the rest of my drink. “I don’t want to go to jail.”

  “I won’t let you go to jail.”

  “Okay.” Jake’s simple response was enough to appease me and I slammed the empty shot glass on the bar to get Bishop’s attention. “Need another!”

  “You’re done.”

  The voice came from behind me. I almost fell off the stool when I swiveled, my eyes widening when I realized Eliot stood next to me. “What’re you doin’ here?” I felt slow, which meant whatever argument he was about to pick was going to go his way. I hate that. “I don’t wanna fight.”

  “We’re not going to fight.” Eliot took me by surprise when he tossed a one-hundred-dollar bill on the bar and tugged me off the stool. I stumbled a bit, careening into him, and instead of helping he merely swung me up to carry me. “It’s time to go home. You’re going to be extremely hungover tomorrow.”

  “I might be hungover now,” I admitted, my head pounding. “What ’bout Jake? He needs a drinking buddy!”

  “Jake is coming with us.”

  “He is?” The statement shouldn’t have made sense, yet it did. “’Kay.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “I need a nap and then I’ll be totally ’kay.”

  “You’re going to pass out and I’m not going to see you until morning,” Eliot corrected, jerking his head to get Jake to follow. “Come on. You need to come with me, too.”

  “Okay.” Jake was unusually amiable. “My head is kind of spinning.”

  “You need to hold it together until we get to the Explorer,” Eliot ordered. “I can’t carry both of you.”

  “I am totally sober.” Jake tangled his feet and careened into an empty table before righting himself. “See?”

  “Yes, you’re both paragons of sobriety.” Eliot sighed as he glanced at me. “Are you going to throw up?”

  “Nope!”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Nope!”

  “That’s what I thought.” Eliot moved toward the door, ignoring whatever derogatory thing Tad called after us. I couldn’t quite make it out, but I was sure it wasn’t witty or worth hearing, so I didn’t really care. “You’re in big trouble once your head is on straight tomorrow morning. You know that, right?”

  “I told Jake.”

  Eliot stilled. “You did?”

  I nodded. “Am I still in trouble?”

  “Yes, but less.”

  “Tha’s good.” I leaned to the side. “I think I might barf after all.”

  “Yeah, I saw that coming.”

  19 Nineteen

  “Oh … I’m dying!”

  The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes the next morning was the unrelenting sun peeking through the blinds. It slammed into my head with the power of an asteroid collision and left a pile of destruction in its wake. Right on the heels of the sunlight was the pounding between my temples. I seriously thought my brain was about to suffer a debilitating earthquake.

  “Kill me now!”

  “I�
��ll consider that later.” Eliot sat on the edge of the mattress and pressed a cold cloth to my forehead. “I have water and aspirin if you’re interested.”

  I forced open one eye and squinted, finding Eliot in nothing but his boxer shorts. His hair was tousled and his expression unreadable. “I’ll take the whole bottle.”

  “Of the water or aspirin?”

  “Both.”

  “We’ll start with three aspirin and one bottle of water.” Eliot opened the aspirin bottle and tipped three tablets into the palm of my hand. “Drink the entire bottle of water. I’ll get some breakfast in you as soon as possible, some juice, and then hopefully you’ll feel something akin to human before we lose too much of the day.”

  I popped the aspirin into my mouth and guzzled the water, sucking it down so fast that it spilled out the corners of my mouth. I ignored my wet T-shirt and made gasping sounds until the bottle was gone.

  “Better?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I still wish I was dead.”

  “That will hopefully dissipate.” Eliot lifted the washcloth and felt my forehead before flipping it over and replacing it. “So, do you want to tell me what brought on your need to drink yourself into oblivion last night?”

  “Things kind of got away from me.”

  “I figured that much out myself. I expected you to come home, though. I waited for you for a long time. You didn’t answer any of your texts.”

  I widened my eyes, surprised. “I don’t remember getting any texts. I … are you sure you texted me?”

  Eliot chuckled. “I did. I checked your phone before I plugged it in to charge. You hadn’t seen any of the texts, which makes me believe you were too drunk to hear the beep over the music.”

  “That’s entirely possible.” I stretched, making a face as my stomach threatened to revolt. “Ugh. I might have to puke in a few minutes. I’m just warning you now that if I jump up and run to the bathroom it’s nothing personal.”

  “I’m actually surprised you have anything left in your stomach to throw up.”

  “Why?”