The question clearly made Lauren uneasy and she snapped to attention. “I do. Why?”
“Because I need to search those records and I think you just became my buddy for the weekend.”
Lauren balked. “I can’t log you into the system. That’s not allowed.”
“No, but you can log in and search yourself.”
“So you want me to do your work for you?”
“I just want to see if I’m looking in the right spot,” I clarified. “If I give you a specific donation amount, can you search for it and find which candidate received it? Right now I’m searching blind because I don’t even know who I’m looking for.”
Lauren’s expression was hard to read, but I sensed her softening, if only marginally. “I could get in trouble for helping you.”
“I’d never tell anyone that you helped me. I’m loyal and trustworthy when it comes to that stuff.”
“Is there anything you’re not loyal and trustworthy about?”
“Doughnuts. I steal two when they show up at the office, and I refuse to share.”
Lauren barked out a laugh. “Oh, geez.” She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows. “I don’t want to lose my job.”
“You won’t lose your job. I promise this will be fast and painless. I just need to know if I’m wasting my time on the documents I found.”
“Fine. You talked me into it.” Lauren held up her hands in defeat. “But if I lose my job, I’ll make you wish you’d never met me.”
Her response only made me smile wider. “It’s like we’re sisters separated at birth. Do you think that’s a possibility, by the way? I’ve often wondered how I could be related to my mother. This could explain so many things.”
“Oh, geez.” Lauren rubbed her forehead. “You’re going to run me ragged, aren’t you?”
She had no idea.
14 Fourteen
“Are you still angry?”
We made the drive to the family restaurant – which was an hour north of our house – in silence. Eliot was waiting for me to crumble first. That simply wasn’t going to happen. I was willing to never speak again if it meant I would win. Finally, when we pulled to a stop in the parking lot, he couldn’t take it any longer.
“Why would I possibly be angry?” I fixed him with a sweet smile. “That doesn’t sound like me at all.”
Eliot scowled. “I know you’re upset … .”
“I’m not upset. I don’t get upset. It would be juvenile for me to get upset, and the Force knows we can’t have that even though I worked harder than everyone and got the information through other means.”
“Oh, geez.” Eliot rubbed his forehead. “I hate it when you get like this.”
I cast him a sidelong look. “Lauren thinks you’re a saint.”
The conversational shift caught Eliot off guard. “Excuse me?”
“She thinks you’re a saint,” I repeated. “She thinks you’re wonderful and sweet and I’m lucky to have you.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think I’m lucky to have you, too.”
As if sensing a trap, Eliot furrowed his brow. “But?”
“But I think that you occasionally stand up for certain people – we’ll just call them Jake and Derrick for today’s argument purposes – simply because they’re men.”
“And I think you’re complaining just to hear yourself complain.”
He would say something like that. “No. I’m not. I have a right to be angry. I sniffed out the murder a day before everyone else.”
“Do you think you should be rewarded for that?”
“No. I do think that fair is fair, though. I was penalized for being smarter than everyone else.”
Eliot took me by surprise when he chuckled. “You are simply unbelievable sometimes. Have you ever considered that Jake had to keep things quiet until he notified the family and got an unofficial ruling from the medical examiner?”
“No.”
“And why not?”
“Because Brucker was shot in the back. There’s no way that happened by accident,” I replied. “He didn’t accidentally fall backward on a gun and then trip into the river. He was murdered. That’s not up for debate.”
Eliot opened his mouth to argue and then snapped it shut as he tipped his head to the side, his mind clearly busy.
“Ha!” I jabbed a finger at him. “I’m right. I won the argument. You can’t find anything to argue about, which means I won.”
Eliot captured my finger and gave it a hard squeeze. “If I admit I was wrong, can we declare this fight over?”
I shook my head, solemn. “I don’t want to hear that you were wrong. I want to hear that I was right.”
Eliot heaved out the type of long-suffering sigh only parents of petulant children can muster. “Fine. You were right.”
“Thank you.” I basked in my glory for a full ten seconds. “You should call Jake and tell him I was right, too.”
“Don’t push it.” Eliot pocketed his keys and exited the truck, waiting at the front for me to join him. Before I could speak, he leaned over and gave me a hard kiss. “I’m sorry I didn’t take your side earlier. You have a point about the work you put in and the fact that Brucker’s death couldn’t be confused for an accident.”
“Thank you.”
“I still maintain that Jake has rules he has to follow, and that means he can’t always cater to what you want.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Do you want to tick me off right after we made up?”
Eliot snorted. “No. I’m just saying that Jake didn’t do this to hurt you.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll spout the same nonsense when I make him cry until he promises never to cut me off from information again.”
Eliot gave me another swift kiss before linking his fingers with mine and heading toward the front door of the restaurant. “Is that what you and Lauren were talking about? Is she going to help you make Jake cry?”
I shook my head. “She’s going to help me track those financial documents I found. Apparently there’s a search function if you’re logged into the website with your county credentials.”
Eliot held open the door so I could duck under his arm. “And you think it’s a good idea to risk her job so you can track down some garbage you found under a bush?”
“I don’t happen to think it’s garbage.”
“Yeah, but you don’t know it’s anything good either.”
“I don’t,” I conceded. “I’m going to see if I can track down the numbers tomorrow. I’m not giving it much time. If I can’t find it I’ll move on to something else.”
Eliot didn’t look convinced. “Try not to get your new friend fired. I have a feeling you don’t make friends very easily and I’d hate for you to lose someone you really like.”
“That’s okay. I’ll still have Lexie, Carly and Marvin.”
“I don’t see how you think you’re going to win an argument with that.” Eliot put his hand at the small of my back and ushered me toward the table. I slid in to my normal spot at the family booth, fixing my cousin Mario with a genuine smile as I got comfortable between him and Eliot.
“I haven’t seen you around much, Mario. What’s up with you?”
“Grandpa is working me like a dog,” Mario complained. “He has me taking our food truck to area festivals, and then he only shows up when it’s not too hot and he doesn’t need a nap.”
I looked to the end of the table, where my grandfather held court as he told some story from twenty years before. “That’s sounds just like him. What festivals have you been hitting?”
“More local stuff lately, but we’re heading up your way tomorrow.”
The offhand comment caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. “The Mount Clemens festival?”
“That’s the one.”
Crap. The last thing I needed was Mario and Grandpa hanging around and instigating madness. That was my job, after all. “I don’t think you should go up there. I he
ard that festival is going to be a waste of time.”
“All festivals are a waste of time,” Mario shot back. “That doesn’t mean there’s not money to be made.”
“Yeah, but … Mount Clemens is dangerous. There are gangbangers and stuff. You might get shot if you decide to go there.”
Grandpa, who I was certain wasn’t listening when I started talking, lasered his eyes to me. Son of a … ! Every time I think his hearing is going and I’m going to skate on something he proves me wrong. It’s freaking ridiculous.
“Why don’t you want us to go the festival?” Grandpa asked.
“Did I say I didn’t want you to go to the festival?” I adopted an innocent expression. “I merely don’t want you to get shot in the street. That’s something a good granddaughter would want.”
“It is,” Grandpa agreed, “but I don’t have a good granddaughter. I have you.”
“Oh, whatever.” I leaned back in the booth and rolled my eyes. “I have no problem if you want to attend the Mount Clemens festival. I was simply trying to keep you from wasting your time.”
“You’re the world’s worst liar,” Grandpa complained. “I taught you better than that. Come up with a better lie.”
My mother, who picked that moment to make her way back from the salad bar with a full plate of food, cocked an eyebrow as she stared between us. “What are you talking about?”
“How lucky I am to have you as a mother,” I answered without hesitation. I could feel Eliot vibrating with silent laughter, but I refused to look at him out of fear I would join in. “I thank my lucky stars that I have you as a mother every day of my life.”
Mom narrowed her eyes. “If you get arrested this weekend for whatever you have planned, don’t call me to bail you out.”
What is it with people assuming I’m going to get arrested? “Don’t worry. Eliot already took extra cash out of the ATM to bail me out. I’ve got it covered.”
“Well, great.”
“Now … what were we talking about again?”
“We were talking about the Mount Clemens festival and how you don’t think it’s a good idea for us to go,” Mario answered. “I’m not keen to drive that far as it is. Maybe we should take tomorrow off, Gramps.”
Grandpa, red sauce from whatever he’d eaten for dinner on his cheek, shot Mario a look that would’ve frozen a mere mortal in his tracks. Mario was no mere mortal, though. He was more than that, which was why he was one of my favorite cousins.
“We’re going,” Grandpa said.
“We or me?” Mario challenged.
“We.” Grandpa’s eyes lit as they locked with mine. “Your cousin is clearly up to something. We can’t allow her to get arrested without watching. We’re definitely going.”
Oh, well, great. There went my weekend. “I think you guys are going to be bored, but whatever makes you happy fills me with delight.” I leaned my head against Eliot’s shoulder and studied the specials menu. “Ooh, prime rib.”
“I’m trying to decide between that and the spaghetti.”
“Go with the prime rib. If you eat the spaghetti you’ll smell like garlic, and that’s only fun if I smell like garlic, too.”
“Good point. Prime rib it is.” Eliot returned the menu to the table and slid his arm around my shoulders. I shifted to snuggle closer, but movement at the front door caught my attention and I couldn’t stop myself from going rigid when I caught sight of Derrick and Devon. As if she was tuned in to me – and my very dark mood – Devon turned and pinned me with a look, her lips curving.
“Ugh. I’m going to smack her around.”
I thought I said the words quietly, but the look my mother shot me said otherwise.
“What did you just say?” Mom was incensed. “Did you just threaten to hit a pregnant woman?”
I had two options. I could lie and say she misheard or tell the truth and try to explain I didn’t mean it. I went with the obvious choice. “Of course not.”
“No, I heard you say it,” Mom countered. “You said you wanted to smack her.”
“I said I wanted to smack him,” I corrected. “I said him, not her.”
Mom didn’t look convinced. “Why would you want to smack your cousin?”
“Because he knocked up his girlfriend and hasn’t married her yet. That’s simply not right.” I totally pulled that one out of nowhere, but I knew it was something that ate at Mom, so I took a shot she’d be distracted enough to turn her evil attention to Derrick.
It worked like a charm.
“How is everyone tonight?” Derrick took special care to sit at the middle table, going out of his way to avoid eye contact with me. “The weather is nice, huh?”
“The weather is nice,” Mom agreed. “It’s the perfect weather for a wedding, in fact.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as I turned my head so I couldn’t see Derrick’s reaction. It would be too funny, but now was not the time to laugh, especially if I wanted Mom to keep poking Derrick rather than me.
“You’re rotten,” Eliot whispered.
“Do you want her to focus on us?”
“I happen to like you rotten.”
“When are you going to marry this poor girl, Derrick?” Mom asked, her salad essentially ignored as she focused her full attention on him. “I mean … she’s carrying your baby. Don’t you think you should do something for her?”
“I heard he thinks the sex was enough of a gift,” I said, grinning when Derrick gripped his fork so hard his knuckles whitened. “I was at the sheriff’s department today and he said that she should be happy he still wants to hang with her since she was too stupid to figure out how birth control worked.”
That was taking it a bit too far. Devon’s face flushed with color as Derrick moved to stand. Thankfully for me, my mother was too focused on them to bother checking to see if I was behaving. She had a mission and she was determined to see it through.
“I think we need to have a long talk, Derrick,” Mom intoned. “I think your priorities might be out of whack.”
Derrick let loose a hateful glare. “I’ll make you pay for this, Avery.”
“I’m looking forward to it.” I rubbed my hands on my knees as I turned to Eliot. “My work here is done. We need to eat really fast so we can escape before he backs me into a corner.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“UGH. WHY DID YOU let me eat so much?”
I rubbed my stomach as we left the restaurant an hour later. Mom seemed agitated when we announced we were leaving, but I made up a big lie about Eliot having to work early because of the festival and she bought it. Er, well, it seemed she bought it. She was difficult to read because she was too focused on Derrick for me to be certain.
“I believe I warned you about a second serving of mashed potatoes,” Eliot argued. “You didn’t listen, so that’s on you.”
“It was good, though.”
“It was definitely good. In fact … .” Eliot broke off, his attention drifting to a white sheet of paper tucked under the truck’s passenger side windshield wiper. “What’s that?”
“Probably some advertisement.” I snagged the paper and flipped it over, frowning when I saw the messy words scrawled across it. Son of a … . “Yup. It’s just an advertisement.”
I balled up the paper but Eliot knew me well enough to recognize my diversion tactics and he grabbed my wrist before I could chuck the garbage into the nearby trees. “What is that?”
“It’s an advertisement.” I struggled to pull my arm away, but he was too strong.
“Let me see it.”
“It’s an advertisement for tampons,” I shot back. “You don’t need those. I’ve taken care of it.”
“Give that to me right now.” Eliot clearly wasn’t in the mood to mess around. “I want to see it.”
I knew it was fruitless, but I tried to stop him all the same. “But you’re afraid of tampons.”
“That no longer works on me because I know you
dig out the word ‘tampon’ whenever you want to freak me out and cause confusion.” Eliot managed to remove the sheet of paper from my hand despite my best efforts. “I’m not going to fall for the tampon thing ever again, so you’d better come up with a different tactic.”
That didn’t sound like something I wanted to do. “I think that whoever put that on your windshield got us confused with someone else. That message was clearly meant for my mother.”
Eliot made an annoyed growling in the back of his throat. “Don’t push me, Avery.” He furrowed his brow as he read the note aloud. “’You’re poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Stop now, or you’ll be sorry.’”
I was inexplicably nervous. “See. That was aimed at my mother.”
Instead of freaking out, Eliot merely shook his head. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
“You knew what?”
He extended a finger. “Get in the truck … and lock the door.”
I glanced around the parking lot, dubious. “You don’t think someone is going to attack here, do you?”
“You’ve been taken from this parking lot at least once that I know of, and you were held at gunpoint in the storage shed behind the restaurant.”
“I still don’t think that was meant for me.”
“We both know it was. Now … get in the truck. I need to think.”
Uh-oh. I didn’t like the sound of that one little bit.
15 Fifteen
Eliot was hyper-vigilant on the way home, both hands on the steering wheel as he constantly watched the rearview mirror and road for potential hazards. I left him to his worry as I internally debated how to handle the problem. It wasn’t so much that I feared for my life. This was hardly the first threat I’d ever received. Heck, this wasn’t the first threat I’d received this week. It felt different, though, because whoever issued it went out of his or her way to follow us to the family restaurant.
“It could’ve been Devon messing around,” I suggested when Eliot parked in the driveway and killed the engine.
He shot me a look, something dark passing through his eyes. “Do you really think she stopped by the truck long enough to leave you a threat? In front of her deputy fiancé?”
Extra! Extra! Dead All About It (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 12) Page 14