My next stop was the Macomb County Clerk’s Office, which was in a general state of upheaval since the elected clerk, Mary Winters, ran off weeks before. I was at the center of that mishap (I can often say that) so I was leery about the reception I’d receive. To my surprise, I found a big smile waiting for me when I moseyed up to Mabel Margaret Morrison’s window.
I didn’t know Mabel well. She was relegated to the back during much of Mary’s tenure. I’d heard rumors — the most frequent of which is that she had a big mouth and could be talked out of other people’s information with minimal effort — so I was actually excited to see her.
“Hi, Mabel.”
She stared at me for a bit, blinking, and then her smile faltered just a smidge. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
I had two choices here. I could lie and pretend I was someone else while digging for information or come clean with my identity. The former seemed the better option, but there were so many people in the office who knew me that the choice would likely blow up in my face and I didn’t want to deal with the fallout if I was called out in front of everyone.
“Avery Shaw.” I kept my smile in place. Even though I’m an absolute pain when I want to be, I’m adept at schmoozing people when the opportunity presents.
“Oh, the reporter.” Mabel’s smile didn’t shift, which I took as a good sign.
“That’s me.” I agreed. “How are things going for you guys since ... well, since everything happened?”
I was visiting for specific information, but I had no problem prodding Mabel for particulars on more than one topic. It might give me some story ideas for when I returned to work. That seemed like a long time to wait should I uncover something juicy, but I’d rather have the information and be forced to sit on it than lose out entirely.
“Oh, we’re doing fine here.” Mabel’s smile was so bright and forced it was almost blinding ... and a little bit creepy.
“That’s good.” I meant it. “You guys must be scrambling with the November election coming up. Isn’t Mary’s seat up for grabs?”
“Yes, and we’re in a pickle,” Mabel admitted. “Mary won her primary seat easily, but now we only have a Republican candidate for the field. The county Democrats are debating about running a special election — which will be expensive — or simply naming a different candidate.”
My antenna went up. “Is that allowed?”
Mabel shrugged. “I have no idea. I’m not a policy maker.”
“No. Still, it’s an elected position ... and a big one. It’s bound to be a contentious election.”
“Yes, well, this is Macomb County.” Mabel was blasé. “We have a lot of contentious elections.”
“We do.” Speaking of contentious elections, I had another question to ask. “What about the county commissioner’s race? Are the results going to be challenged in court?”
“Which county commissioner’s race?”
She had to be kidding. “The one Tad Ludington won by default.”
“Oh, I’m not sure. I thought Mr. Ludington was free and clear for the general election.”
That was so not what I wanted to hear. Tad Ludington is my arch nemesis. No, I’m not being dramatic. He looks at me the same way. If there was an Olympic event for hating a single person, Tad and I would both be in the running for the gold. We dated in college — which was a huge mistake on my part (he should’ve thanked his lucky stars I ever let him see me naked) — and had been irritating each other ever since thanks to the fact that he insisted on running for office even though he was barely qualified to count his own toes.
“That election was screwed up,” I reminded her. “Dick Aiken’s arrest prevented the voters from having a choice.” To be fair, the voters had a choice. There were numerous other candidates for that seat. Aiken was the front-runner until news broke the day of the election that he was also a murderer. The voters were smart enough not to elect Aiken. However, the piece of terror they did elect in his place was almost worse. Yes, I just admitted I would rather have a murderer in office than Tad Ludington. I’m petty. Sue me.
“I don’t see how the election was screwed up,” Mabel countered. She seemed legitimately baffled. The more I talked to her, the slower she appeared. There was a definite possibility that she wasn’t part of the inner circle when it came to county gossip. Drat. That was a real smack in the face. “Mr. Ludington won fair and square.”
I narrowed my eyes. Something about the way she said “Mr. Ludington” set my teeth on edge. “Has he been in here since the election?”
“Yes.”
I waited for her to expound. When she didn’t, I pushed harder. “Does he cite a reason when he visits?”
“He says he wants to make sure operations are running smoothly for the November election.” Mabel’s face was blank as she chattered away. “He’s very worried about our well-being. He’s one of those rare politicians who put his constituents and the county workers first.”
Oh, now I was definitely suspicious. “Did he tell you to say that?”
“Yes.” Mabel bobbed her dark head. “He gave us a list of things to say should people ask questions about him.” As if to prove she was telling the truth, Mabel held up a sheet of paper for my viewing pleasure. “We have approved things we can say. If we stray from the list we can be fired.”
What a load of crap. “Did he tell you that?” I snatched the paper from her and eyed it with annoyed interest. “Wait ... this says you’re allowed to say that Tad Ludington is a king amongst normal men.”
“I know.” Mabel was solemn. “I’m glad I’ve been able to spend so much time working with him over the past week. I’ve never met a king before.”
Ugh. This was my worst nightmare. I couldn’t even put into words what I was feeling. Oh, wait. That wasn’t true. I could totally find the right words. “This is the biggest pile of manure he’s ever shoveled.”
Mabel was taken aback by my vehemence. “Is something wrong?”
“You bet your big bottom there’s something wrong.” When I risked a glance back at Mabel after several moments of silence, I found her frowning. “What? You’re the one who fell for this. There’s no reason you should be angry with me.”
This time when Mabel spoke, it was with a clipped tone. “Do you need something, Ms. Shaw?”
Uh-oh. I’d ticked her off. I wasn’t sure how I managed to do it ... until I remembered the “big bottom” comment. “I didn’t mean ‘big’ in a bad way,” I offered hurriedly. “I meant it like you’re a Kardashian.” I’m secretly a Kardashian hater, for the record, but some people seem to like them. Mabel reminded me of a Kardashian fan, so I took a shot. It appeared to work.
Mabel brightened considerably. “Oh, well, I have been emulating Kim. I want my front to arrive in a room five seconds before my backside.”
“Well, you’re doing an admirable job of it.” I meant it. “As for this list, you don’t have to tell people these things. He’s lying if he says it’s necessary.”
Mabel shook her head. “He said that I shouldn’t believe it if anyone tells me anything different from what he says.”
I had to hand it to him. Tad was ahead of me on this one. He wanted an inside person at the clerk’s office for the general election and he’d obviously heard the same rumors about Mabel that I had. Initially, I thought she would turn out to be gossipy because she simply couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Now I knew it was because she was borderline stupid. Only an idiot would fall for Tad’s ridiculous rhetoric, and he was clearly smart when picking his sidekick.
“It’s a lie,” I tried one more time. “I swear it’s a lie. He’s making it up so he can be sure that you’ll do what he wants.”
“He said people would say that.”
Oh, geez. She was a lost cause. I would have to figure out what to do with her later. For now, I had bigger things on my mind. “Fine. If you want to fall for his nonsense, I guess that’s your prerogative. I can’t stop you.”
“No.”
“So ... keep doing what you’re doing.”
“I will.” Mabel extended her hand for the sheet of paper. “I need that back.”
“Oh, I can’t do that.” I folded it and shoved it in my pocket. “I need it for when I see him next.”
“I don’t believe you’re supposed to take that.” Mabel adopted a prim and proper tone, as if scolding a child. “That’s a private document.”
“It’s really not.”
“I need it back.”
“I’m sure Tad will be able to provide you a copy. I need this one. If I don’t keep it I’ll never forgive myself.”
“But ... .” Mabel looked bewildered.
“I’m actually here for a reason,” I said, hoping to distract her with something shiny. “I need to get the ownership records of Sandusky Sanitation. I need building permits and business licenses ... basically anything you’ve got.”
Mabel’s forehead wrinkled and then smoothed as if she were debating whether she should focus on the new topic or keep harping on the old one. If she chose the latter, I was going to have to make a break for it and get the Sandusky Sanitation information from somebody else.
Finally, she sighed and nodded. “I’ll pull the information. You’ll need to pay documentation fees.” I pulled out my company card – the one the county issued so the newspaper could be billed at the end of the month – and held it up. “The Monitor has an account with you.”
“Right. It will take me a few minutes. Please have a seat.”
“Gladly.”
FORTY MINUTES LATER I had a text from Eliot asking me to meet him downtown for a late lunch, and a stack of documents that would take me hours to go through. I was busy flipping through the records when I left the building, so distracted that I didn’t even notice the man in front of me until it was too late and I barreled into him.
“Watch where you’re going!”
I recognized the sputtering voice from my nightmares and jerked up my head to find myself looking into Tad’s loathsome eyes. They were so brown they reminded me of diarrhea. “Oh, geez. What are you doing here?”
Clearly not happy to see me, Tad tugged on his shirt to smooth it as he looked around to see if I was alone. “I was about to ask you the same question. What are you doing here?”
“I was at the clerk’s office. I was getting documents.”
“For what?”
“Don’t worry,” I sneered. “It’s not for the general election. I have other things to focus on for the immediate future.”
“I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that,” Tad said, pinning me with a derogatory look. “I think your talents are better served on a different beat. Have you ever considered covering California politics? I think you would fit right in with those nuts out there.”
“And leave all this?” I smirked in a manner that I knew drove him crazy. “Why would I possibly want to leave Macomb County? That seems a stupid thing to do when there’s still a chance to make sure you’re never elected again.”
“I believe that reporters are supposed to report the news, not influence it.”
“That only applies to candidates who aren’t ass crabs.”
Tad stilled, confusion and fury warring for supremacy on his obnoxious face. “What are ass crabs?”
“Oh, you don’t know?” I made a clucking sound with my tongue. “If you don’t know, I can’t tell you. Apparently you’re not part of the cool club.”
“The cool club knows about ass crabs?”
Huh. That was annoying. He kind of had me there. “The cool club knows about ass crabs so they don’t get them. It’s the unsuspecting populace — and morons who can’t figure out how to pick their noses without eating it — who have never heard of the scourge ripping through the community.”
That sounded a little less ridiculous. Tad was a moron of epic proportions, though, so I wasn’t overly worried about him questioning me. It turned out I was right not to worry. He remained, as always, clueless to a good insult.
“Whatever.” Tad shook his head to dislodge whatever dark thought he was harboring. “I still don’t understand what you’re doing here. I heard through the grapevine you were on vacation. I know everyone in the county has been heaving a sigh of relief thanks to a much-needed reprieve from your presence.”
“Yes, well, I needed some documents.” I narrowed my eyes as I considered how far to push him. “I also needed to grab a copy of the rules of interaction that you’ve been handing out.”
The way Tad shifted, his cheeks turning red, gave me a little thrill. I liked little more than messing with him. He was so easy it was a joy to make him cry ... and sometimes even foam at the mouth.
“What are you talking about?”
“The rules you’ve been handing out in the clerk’s office,” I replied. “I managed to get my hands on them. I can’t wait to write an article about it.”
“But ... no.” Tad firmly shook his head. “Wait ... I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He changed tactics quickly, but it was too late to wipe out the damage already done. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about this.” I transferred my documents from my right to left hand and then dug in my back pocket. I was amused when I started reading. “Tad Ludington is the sort of politician who makes voters have faith in the system again.”
Tad glowered. “Where did you get that?”
I ignored the question. “Tad Ludington is the sort of man who makes women want to marry him and men want to be him.”
Tad made a grab for the sheet of paper. “Give me that.”
I was too quick and easily sidestepped him. “Tad Ludington is the sort of man who makes women sigh as their ovaries go into overdrive.” I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Seriously, where did you even get this stuff? If you hired someone to write it, you seriously overpaid.”
“You give me that right now!” Tad grabbed my arm and viciously twisted it, causing me to inadvertently cry out.
It wasn’t that I feared him. The angle he managed to grab me at, however, was extremely uncomfortable. “Let me go.”
“You let go of that right now!” Tad fired back. “That is not for you. That is a private document that isn’t to be shared outside of the clerk’s office. It’s not a major thing. It’s a little thing.”
“You’d know all about little things,” I gritted out as I struggled to keep him from getting his fingers on the sheet of paper. “If you don’t stop, I’ll scream.”
“Good. I like it when you scream.”
He was such a perverted tool that I believed him. I decided to try a different tack. “If you don’t let go I’ll tell Eliot that you put your hands on me and then sit back and watch while he beats you bloody.”
The threat had the desired effect. Tad eased his grip just enough for me to break free.
“Ha!” I hopped away from him, victorious despite the messy state of my hair. “I’m going to print all of this goofy stuff and then sit back and watch while everyone in the county laughs at you.”
“I’ll sue you.”
“Bring it.”
Tad’s eyes were nothing but slits. “Whore!”
“Pus bucket.”
“Skank.”
“Walking ass crab.”
“Slut!”
“Tiny penis man.”
As far as insults go, it wasn’t my best day. But Tad took offense at everything, so my arrow flew straight and true.
“You take that back.” Tad reached for me again, his fingers twitching. “I talked to a doctor and he said I fall in the normal range for white men with my lineage.”
I couldn’t hold back my snort. “So, basically you’re saying you’re genetically predisposed to have a tiny unit? That’s your defense?”
“I will kill you.”
“Bring it!”
Before I knew what was happening, Tad launched himself at me. He was deathly serious with his attack. I realized my mista
ke too late. Of course, that’s normal for me, too.
“Uh-oh.”
13 Thirteen
People often ask if I’m a fan of fighting. “Fan” is not the right word. Very few people actually get excited at the prospect of throwing down with another human being. Sure, there are always exceptions. We’ve all seen some variations of the brain-dead moron who crushes a beer can against his forehead before putting real effort into bullying someone.
Just for the record: That is not me.
That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to fight if someone attacks. I can take only so much, and I was officially at my limit with Tad. I can tolerate a lot (okay, very little because I have the patience of a five-year-old who has been taught she’s the center of the world) but I won’t abide anyone putting his or her hands on me without invitation.
At the moment Tad reached for my neck I sidestepped his grasp. He was already off balance when I slammed my knee into his groin hard enough that he called out like a wounded animal. It was almost comical the way his face went red, he grabbed his tiny Ludington family jewels, and dropped to his knees in the middle of the sidewalk.
“I’m going to kill you,” Tad hissed, spittle forming at the corners of his mouth as his eyes threatened to roll back in his head. I really was looking forward to the idea of him passing out so I could drag his body different places and pose him for public ridicule before he woke. Alas, he looked to be clinging to consciousness ... which was such a disappointment.
“Oh, stuff it.” I folded the sheet of paper and calmly placed it in my back pocket while glancing around to see if we had an audience. It was late afternoon in Mount Clemens, which meant it was too early for the courthouse and county workers to leave for the day and too late for corporate lunch goers to be on the street. “You’re lucky I handled you instead of letting Eliot rip your head off.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” Veins stood out on Tad’s neck as he strained to keep from toppling to the side. “I’ll have you arrested for this.”
On Deadline & Under Fire Page 12
