avery shaw 08 - misprints & mistakes

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avery shaw 08 - misprints & mistakes Page 4

by lee, amanda m


  “Shouldn’t you put out one of those Amber Alerts?”

  “Those are for when we know someone has been kidnapped and is in danger,” Derrick replied, remaining calm despite Jackson’s building fury. “We don’t know whether your daughter left on her own or was taken.”

  “Shouldn’t you issue an Amber Alert just in case she was taken?” Jackson insisted.

  “On what information, sir?” Derrick asked. “We don’t have a suspect. We don’t have a vehicle. We don’t have a license plate. We don’t have anything. To issue an Amber Alert, we need information to give the public so they keep their eyes open. We simply don’t have the information to give.”

  “What about a photograph of my daughter?”

  “We can circulate that to the news media,” Derrick said, his gaze briefly locking with mine. “That’s probably going to be a good way to go now that we’re sure Sierra isn’t here.”

  “If someone took her, what are the odds she’s … alive?” Jackson asked, swallowing hard.

  “That’s impossible to ascertain,” Derrick said. “We need more information. Now that you’re here, in fact, I have some questions for you. We need as much information as you can provide and we need it quickly if we want to ensure a good outcome. Do you understand?”

  Jackson dully nodded. “I understand.”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  ELIOT was asleep on the couch when I got home. The television was on, the nightly news playing at low volume, but his eyes were closed and his breathing deep and regular. I kicked off my shoes and tugged off my pants before rolling in next to him.

  “Hey,” Eliot murmured, slipping his arm underneath me so he could tug me close. “What time is it?”

  “Late,” I replied, kissing his cheek. “I’m sorry I woke you. I tried to be stealthy, but it didn’t work.”

  “Did they find the missing girl?”

  “She’s gone,” I said, resting my head against his chest as he rubbed the back of my neck. “They found video of her at the arcade but … she just disappears in a sea of people after that. It’s weird.”

  “Did you file a story?”

  “I did. I’ll have to write a follow-up on it tomorrow, but I’ve done everything I can for tonight.”

  Eliot was quiet a moment. Then, as if sensing I was antsy, he pried his eyes open and focused on me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is technically wrong,” I hedged.

  “Yeah, well I know you well enough to know that you’re up to something,” Eliot said, his chocolate eyes glittering in the muted light. “You picked something up today that no one else did and it’s bugging you. What is it?”

  “Derrick made me go to the security room with him because he was angry I sneaked in a story before everyone else when he was questioning the stepmother,” I explained, causing Eliot to laugh. “After that I went to the arcade with him, and I was there when the father showed up.”

  “And?”

  “And I wasn’t supposed to eavesdrop but … well … I did.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Eliot said. “I would be more surprised if you didn’t eavesdrop. What’s the deal?”

  “The father said the kids didn’t get along with their stepmother and they’ve been acting up,” I said. “He blamed his first wife for poisoning his kids against this new wife. I’m going to need to pull background on the whole lot of them tomorrow, by the way, and I might need your help.”

  “I’ll run a sex tab for my services,” Eliot said. “I’ll give you your bill when the case is solved.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “I’m not joking,” Eliot said. “If you’re going to jump headfirst into these things I want some payment when I follow you into the craziness.”

  “Isn’t the pleasure of my company payment enough?”

  “Only if you’re naked and letting me be the boss,” Eliot replied, not missing a beat. “Go back to the father. What don’t you like about him?”

  “Well, for starters, he has Little Man’s Syndrome,” I replied. “He has attitude and you can tell he was really trying not to lose his cool with Derrick. At first I thought it was because he was worried about his daughter, but now I think something else is going on.”

  “Like?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “Secondly, on top of Little Man’s Syndrome, it sounds as if this marriage with his current wife sprung up out of some white trash soap opera with his previous wife. There was infidelity, clandestine meetings, former high school sweethearts meeting up through Facebook and some actual hair pulling.”

  “Nice,” Eliot said, brushing my hair from my face. “Do you think the stepmother got rid of the kid as some sort of payback?”

  “Why get rid of only one kid?”

  “That’s right,” Eliot said. “I saw on the news they found the brother. There doesn’t seem to be much of a motive to get rid of one kid and keep the other.”

  “Especially if they were both being difficult,” I said.

  “So, what do you think happened to her?”

  “I have no idea,” I answered. “It bugs me, though. In this day and age, who can take a thirteen-year-old girl from a crowded mall and have absolutely no one notice? It should be impossible.”

  “Nothing is impossible,” Eliot countered. “Some things are extremely difficult, though. There’s nothing you can do tonight. You should get some sleep and go at it fresh in the morning.”

  “I’m not sure I can sleep.”

  Eliot cocked an eyebrow. “Do you want to start working on your tab now?”

  I wanted to make him work for it, but I didn’t have the energy. “That sounds good,” I said, “but since I don’t technically have a tab yet, I want to be the boss.”

  “Aren’t you always the boss?” Eliot asked, tickling my ribs.

  “In my head I am.”

  “Well, come on, boss,” Eliot said, rolling us off the couch so we could head to the bedroom. “If you’re going to order me around I need room to move.”

  “I think you need one of those little French maid dresses and a feather duster, too,” I said.

  “You have a sick mind, woman,” Eliot said. “I think that’s one of the reasons I love you.”

  I reached over and squeezed his hand, genuine emotion washing over me as I took in his handsome face. “I love you, too.”

  “I know,” Eliot said. “That’s the only reason I let you boss me around.”

  “I think you like it.”

  “Oh, I’m going to show you what I like, Trouble,” Eliot said. “You’d better start running now. I’m going to have you begging before I’m done with you.”

  “Promises, promises.”

  4

  I woke with my head on Eliot’s chest, his chin resting against my forehead as he lightly snored. I took the opportunity to study him in the morning light, rubbing my finger against the jaw stubble that made him even more attractive, if that was even possible.

  “What are you staring at?” Eliot murmured, his eyes remaining closed.

  “How did you know I was staring at you?”

  “I felt you,” Eliot said, tightening his arm around my waist. “What time is it?”

  “Time for me to take a shower and go to work,” I answered. “I need to find out if they’ve found Sierra Jackson yet.”

  Eliot slowly opened his eyes and focused on me, reaching up with his free hand to push my bedhead to the side. Life definitely isn’t fair. Eliot wakes up looking like a model and I wake up looking like the stuff they pull out of the drain at the model’s house. “If you get in the shower right now I’ll buy you breakfast before work.”

  I was surprised by the offer. “Don’t you have work?” Eliot owns a pawnshop in downtown Mount Clemens, right around the corner from the newspaper office. He’s been diversifying his interests with security work, but he still mans the front desk at the pawnshop three days a week.

  “I do have work, but it can wait until after I have breakfa
st with you,” Eliot said. “I need to write down the names of everyone you want me to run background checks on anyway. You forgot to share that information last night.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, smiling at the memory. “I already started working off my tab. I can’t let you slack off after that.”

  “It’s a good thing you’re a diligent employee,” Eliot said, kissing the tip of my nose. “Personally, I think we can chip into that tab a little more if you shower with me. Then we’ll cut down on the prep time and even have time for a greasy breakfast. It’s the best of all worlds.”

  “I like the way you think.”

  “Right back at you.”

  “I’M STARVING,” I admitted an hour later as Eliot led me to a booth in a Mount Clemens diner.

  “You and me both, Trouble,” Eliot said as he sat across from me. “I’m getting eggs, corned beef hash, toast and bacon.”

  “That sounds healthy,” I deadpanned.

  “Hey, you worked off three meals between last night and this morning, so if I feel like eating a horse I’m going to do it,” Eliot said, his eyes twinkling.

  “Why don’t you say that a little louder,” I suggested. “I don’t think the guy at the counter heard you.”

  Eliot opened his mouth to do just that, but I slammed my hand over his mouth to stop him. “Don’t even think about it,” I warned.

  Eliot grabbed my hand and kissed my fingertips. “You’re cute when you’re crabby,” he said. “What are you so crabby about? In my book, you have absolutely nothing to be crabby about.”

  “I’m not crabby,” I corrected. “I’m … concerned. There’s a missing child. Did you forget that?”

  “I did not forget that,” Eliot said, smiling at the waitress as she approached. He waited until the waitress left with our orders before continuing. “I know that you like getting involved in crap because … well … you’re you. I don’t see why you’re being so manic about this, though. Is it because she’s a kid?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “There’s something about it that bothers me, though. I can’t put my finger on it.”

  “Is it the white trash soap opera you mentioned last night?” Eliot asked. “Tell me more about that again.”

  “I overheard the father explaining to Derrick that his relationship with his current wife overlapped with his previous wife,” I said. “He said the marriage was on the rocks, and he found a former girlfriend on Facebook and it just sort of happened. He said his ex-wife took it badly and blamed the current wife, who is apparently some kind of saint for putting up with the ex-wife.

  “Then when you add in the kids, who are apparently ‘drinking the Kool-Aid,’ if you believe the father, the whole thing sounds like a mess,” I said.

  “Do you think the girl ran away?” Eliot asked, leaning back in the booth and rubbing his foot against mine.

  “Are you playing footsie with me?”

  “I might be,” Eliot replied, grinning. “I have no idea why. You do something to me I can’t explain. I’m in a … mood … right now.”

  “I think you’re always in a mood and you’re only anxious to play with me to see if I’ll give in to your mood,” I said. “I have to go to the sheriff’s department after this, by the way. I’m not going into the office.”

  “I saw you texting Fish when I was getting ready,” Eliot said, referring to my editor Fred Fish. “What did he have to say?”

  “I texted to see what was going on with Sierra, and he said I had to be at the sheriff’s department by ten for a news conference,” I said. “That’s the extent of it. He’s sending a photographer, too.”

  “What do you think that means?”

  “How should I know?” The question came out shriller than I intended.

  “Don’t take that tone with me or I’ll give you something to screech about,” Eliot warned, wagging a finger. His playful smirk was practically a dare for me to push him. On a different day I probably would have done it and not worried about being late for work. Today was different. “What does your gut tell you about Sierra Jackson?”

  “I think she was taken.”

  “By a member of her family? By a pervert?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m honestly not sure which is better.”

  “I’m not either,” Eliot said, reaching to the center of the table to snag my hand. “Leave me the names you need run and I’ll see what we can come up with. I’m sure this will all work out.”

  We both knew he couldn’t promise a good outcome, but I didn’t bother pointing that out. “What are you going to do at work today besides run names for me?”

  “I’m going to think about you working off your tab when you get home tonight.”

  “You’re so sick,” I said, although I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “I think you make me sick,” Eliot said, leaning back as the waitress returned with our order.

  “I think you’re both cute as buttons,” the waitress said, beaming. She looked to be in her fifties and her smile never slipped. “I love waiting on young people in love.”

  I frowned. “How do you know I love him?”

  “It’s written all over your face.”

  That was insulting … I think. “He could be a pervert, for all you know,” I pointed out.

  Now it was Eliot’s turn to scowl. “Thanks.”

  “Honey, they’re all perverts,” the waitress said. “It’s in their genes. You’ve got yourself a good pervert, though. The way he smiles at you is nothing short of gorgeous. You should thank your lucky stars for catching yourself a good pervert instead of a bad one.”

  I forced a smile as I watched her go, irritated by her forceful nature. When I turned back to Eliot, his smirk was so wide it practically engulfed his entire face. “What?”

  “You’re lucky because I’m a gorgeous pervert,” he said. “You should thank your lucky stars. I’m going to remind you of that for weeks. I hope you know that.”

  “Eat your breakfast.”

  THE MACOMB County Sheriff’s Department is located on the outskirts of Mount Clemens. I was a familiar face at the facility thanks to my job – and my penchant for finding trouble – so I wasn’t surprised when the deputies behind the protective bubble in the lobby made a point of ignoring me.

  I like to play games with cops. I know it’s juvenile, but they almost always start it. My biggest problem is that I can’t stop myself from finishing it. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and met the challenging stare of the female deputy. She made a point of pretending to search through a file instead of buzzing me back to the department’s inner sanctum. I’d show her.

  I pressed the phone to my ear and started talking, even though no one was on the other end. “Did you hear the Macomb County Sheriff’s Department is infested with bedbugs?” I asked my imaginary friend. I waited a beat. “No. It’s true. The woman behind the bubble just told me. Every inmate in the jail has bedbugs, and the entire building is crawling with them.”

  I noticed the woman seated in one of the chairs behind me subconsciously rub her head. It was almost as if she could feel something creeping across her scalp. Imagine that.

  “You stop that right now,” the deputy hissed.

  I ignored her. “No, it’s totally true,” I said, purposely ensuring my voice carried. “They’re not even normal bedbugs. They’re mutants. I heard if they crawl into an inmate’s ear they’ll eat the brain and the person will never be the same again.”

  “Omigod! I think one just jumped in my mouth.” I had no idea who said it, but all of the visitors in the waiting area began to panic.

  “You can go back to the conference room,” the deputy said, hitting the button to unlock the door and allowing me entrance to the detective bureau.

  “Thank you so much for your time,” I said, smiling sweetly. “As always, it’s been a pleasure.”

  I trudged down the hallway until I hit Derrick’s office. I pushed open the door without k
nocking, taking a step back when I realized Derrick wasn’t alone. Sheriff Jake Farrell, Derrick’s boss and my former boyfriend, glanced up from a chair and shook his head.

  “I didn’t realize you had someone in here,” I said.

  “That’s why you knock before opening a door,” Derrick said.

  I made a face. “You’re in a mood.”

  “Have you ever considered you create moods?” Derrick asked.

  “Have you ever considered that you’re a tool?” I shot back.

  “I love it when you two get together,” Jake interjected. “It’s like I’m in high school again.”

  “See, I make you feel young,” I said.

  “Oh, no, you make me feel old,” Jake countered. “You make me feel like I’m sixty and you’re fourteen. It’s not a fun feeling.”

  “That’s because you’re old and crotchety,” I said, throwing myself in the open chair across from Derrick. “What do you have on Sierra Jackson?”

  “You’ll find out at the conference, like everyone else,” Derrick said.

  “Does that mean you haven’t found her?”

  “She’s still missing,” Jake answered, rubbing his forehead. “This could turn into a big thing because it’s a slow national news week. Whenever a teenage girl goes missing, things have the propensity to spiral. I’m afraid that’s going to happen here.”

  “Do you have any new information?” I asked.

  “We do, but we’re releasing it to everyone at the same time,” Derrick said.

  I ran my tongue over my teeth as I regarded him. He was starting to wear on me. “Is this about Devon again?”

  “Why do you think everything has something to do with Devon?”

  “Because I know you.”

  “Knock it off,” Jake ordered, shaking his head. “Avery, you can wait five minutes and get the information along with everyone else. You don’t have to scoop everyone all the time.”

  He clearly didn’t know me at all. That’s why the relationship was doomed from the start. “I think there’s something wonky with the parents,” I said. “Just so you know, I’m having Eliot run them because I find that whole situation fishy.”

 

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