Shot Off The Presses: An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 4

by Amanda M. Lee

  “They’re friends of Harriet’s.”

  “So there’s no one here that we know?”

  “No,” Carly shook her head. “Harriet said that, since you planned a bachelorette party that didn’t include her, that she got to pick the invite list to the shower. My sister was supposed to come but her kid got sick so she conveniently got out of it.”

  “Then why was I invited?” I complained.

  “Because she thought she could make you look like a fool,” Carly shrugged simply. “She didn’t think her friends would actually like you.”

  “And I dressed up for her and everything,” I said sarcastically.

  Carly glanced at my shirt and frowned. “You better not wear anything Harry Potter to the wedding.”

  “I thought I had to wear that ugly dress?”

  “You probably shouldn’t piss me off since I’m the only friend you have here right now,” Carly warned me. “Nothing Star Wars either,” she reminded me.

  “That goes double for me,” I told her.

  “What goes double for you?” Carly asked, confusion etched on her face.

  “That no pissing me off thing.”

  Carly considered the statement and then nodded reluctantly. “You’re right. We’re stuck here together.”

  “You want a beer?”

  “How about a keg?” Carly shot back.

  I glanced at the women, two of whom were exchanging knitting patterns, and then bit my bottom lip resolutely. “A keg it is. You’re going to need it when you open the gift I got you in front of these women anyway.”

  Carly narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why? What did you get me?”

  “Sexy underwear.”

  Carly giggled. “That should be enough to end the party. We’ll save it for just the right moment.”

  “Half way through the keg?”

  “That sounds just about right,” Carly agreed.

  Twenty-Four

  “What’s that noise?”

  I had been in the middle of a glorious dream. You know the one. It’s the one where Chris Hemsworth and Chris Pine are battling for your affection with great big swords. Oh, and they’re shirtless. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see who won because this really annoying beeping sound had interrupted the dream – and woken me up.

  “That’s your phone,” Eliot muttered sleepily from beside me.

  “My phone? My phone. My phone.” Maybe if I kept repeating it that noise would just cease and desist.

  “Answer it.” Eliot threw the phone onto my chest and rolled over onto his side, wrapping his pillow around his head grumpily as he did.

  “What?”

  “Is that how you answer a phone?”

  I knew I should have checked the Caller ID before I answered. “Mom? Why are you calling at the ass crack of dawn?”

  “It’s 7:30 in the morning. Why aren’t you up?”

  “I had a late night.”

  “If Eliot is holding you back from getting a full night of sleep, maybe I should have a talk with him,” my mom mused.

  “I think that’s a great idea, mom,” I said. “I think Eliot would love to talk about our sex life with you.”

  Eliot groaned from beneath the covers.

  “Don’t get fresh,” my mom admonished me. “You know I don’t like that.”

  “Sorry, mom,” I muttered. “Why are you calling at 7:30 in the morning?”

  “We have a problem.”

  “We have a problem? What we?”

  “Our family. We’re the we.”

  “Oh, right. Go on. We have a problem.”

  “Your grandfather has been arrested.”

  I felt the air whoosh out of me, followed by the absurd need to laugh. The laughter won out. “What do you mean he’s been arrested?”

  “The police came to the house about a half hour ago, put him in cuffs and took him away.”

  “What did he do? He hasn’t been skinny dipping and laying out on the trampoline naked again has he? It’s too cold.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  I could hear my mom frown over the phone. “Are you going to tell me why he was arrested or is it some big secret?”

  “He refused to show up for jury duty.”

  “I already knew that.”

  “Yes, well, the situation was a little worse than we were led to believe.”

  “How so?”

  “Apparently he just didn’t not show up at the courthouse. He also ignored two notices from the court.”

  “Shit,” I sighed. “You’re kidding me?”

  “No.”

  “What did the cops say when they arrested him?” I glanced over and noticed Eliot was now up and in a sitting position. He could only hear my end of the conversation, but it clearly amused him.

  “They said that he was going to be put in front of a judge at nine sharp. You need to come home and handle this,” my mom said in her best pouty voice.

  “How am I supposed to handle it?”

  “You have connections.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can bully a judge.”

  “I thought you said you could bully anyone?” My mom reminded me.

  “I was five and I was trying to get a new Star Wars toy out of the hands of that little snot who didn’t even know what a Millenium Falcon was. He just wouldn’t give it to me.”

  “Are you coming or not?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “YOUR FAMILY should be studied.”

  I glanced over at Eliot and frowned. “You didn’t have to come. I don’t need to be babysat.” This constant surveillance was starting to grate. Okay, really, it was starting to bug the shit out of me.

  “Like I’m going to miss this.” He said the words, but I knew he was really sticking close because he was convinced I was in some sort of danger. It should have been sweet, but it was really annoying instead.

  “Turn here,” I directed Eliot grumpily.

  “You act like you don’t think this is going to be fun,” Eliot teased.

  “I think this is going to be unpleasant.”

  “Why?” Eliot looked surprised.

  “It’s not unpleasant for me,” I said hurriedly. “I’m more worried about Derrick.”

  Realization washed over Eliot’s face. “You think it will reflect badly on him?”

  “I don’t think Jake would take it out on him,” I explained. “I do think it couldn’t have come at a worse time, though.”

  “Because of Christine Brady,” Eliot supplied knowingly. “You really think she would use this against Derrick?”

  “I think she wants to get at me and she’ll be willing to use Derrick to do it,” I said. “And I think she’ll definitely be willing to use our family to get at Derrick.”

  “She probably thinks that your grandfather can be used against you,” Eliot mused, half to himself. “She doesn’t realize that when your family acts out you actually get off on it.”

  “I don’t get off on it,” I scoffed. Mostly.

  “You do enjoy it.”

  “Well, they’re funny.”

  “They are that.”

  Eliot pulled into a parking spot and killed the engine. He glanced over at me. “Are you ready for this?”

  “No, but let’s go.”

  After making our way through what little security the rural courthouse had, we found ourselves in the only courtroom, which was, not surprisingly, packed with members of my family. I looked for Derrick first and, when I found him, he looked furious.

  “I figured they’d call you.”

  He glared in my direction. “This is unbelievable.”

  “Hopefully the judge will give him a choice of serving on a jury instead of jail,” I said.

  “Do you really believe that?” Derrick asked thinly.

  “The judges are different up here than down by us,” I said. “The judges aren’t such hard asses.”

  “Let’s hope,” Derrick said grimly.

  Eliot slid onto the bench n
ext to Derrick, offering his companionable silence to help bolster my cousin. I appreciated the gesture.

  “All rise.”

  Everyone stood up and waited for Judge Peter Watros to take his seat. He glanced up when he was settled and seemed surprised by the full house. “Bring in the accused,” he said warily.

  The side door to the courtroom opened and I saw that a police officer was ushering my grandfather, who was still in his pajamas (thank God he wasn’t naked) to the front of the courtroom. One look at my grandfather, his robust belly, his thinning hair and the murderous expression on his face and I knew things were about to get very ugly.

  “Sir,” the judge turned to my grandfather. “Are you aware of why you’re here?”

  “Because we’re apparently fascists now,” my grandfather shot back.

  Derrick groaned.

  “No, we’re here because you were sent not one, not two but three different jury summons and you ignored them all.”

  “I didn’t ignore them,” my grandfather countered.

  The judge looked down at the file in front of him again. “Oh, no, I see you sent the summons back to the court with a message written on each one. I believe it said ‘go fuck yourself.’”

  I rubbed my face tiredly as I tried to hide the smile that was flirting with the corner of my mouth. It wasn’t funny, I reminded myself. The problem was, if I were in any other court, I wouldn’t have tried to hide my smile.

  “Was that wrong?” My grandfather didn’t look like he cared either way.

  “Sir, it is your duty to show up for jury duty when so ordered,” Judge Watros said patiently.

  “I didn’t have time. I run a business.”

  “That’s not my concern, sir,” Judge Watros said. “You have to show up for jury duty. It’s the law.”

  “Jaywalking is a law, and that’s bullshit, too.”

  This time, I couldn’t stifle the laugh that bubbled up – and neither could a couple of my cousins. My mom shot me a withering look.

  “Sir, you do realize that if you don’t show up for jury duty, that I’m going to have to put you in jail.”

  My mom and grandmother gasped while I cast a look in Derrick’s direction. His face was unreadable.

  “Fine, then put me in jail. If you want to be a dick, be a dick. Nothing is going to stop you.”

  I rolled my head back and cracked my neck. I knew this was going to be unpleasant. There was no way around that now.

  “I’m not being a dick, sir,” Judge Watros said, and I could tell he was fighting the urge to laugh, too. That was actually a good sign. “I’m trying to appeal to your sense of community.”

  “Oh, you’re one of those,” my grandfather said dramatically.

  “One of those what?”

  “A faggot-loving imbecile that preaches about community instead of getting a real job. You’re a Democrat, aren’t you?”

  Derrick bit his lower lip. It was a surreal situation, but I swear he was fighting the urge to laugh, too.

  The judge, however, didn’t look quite as amused as he had a few minutes before. “Sir, I’m not going to put up with another outburst.”

  “Your honor, if I could have a moment?”

  I turned in surprise at the new voice that had piped up from behind me, turning to see Jake – in his sheriff’s department best – standing in the doorway. He spared a glance in my direction and then moved forward.

  “Sheriff Farrell?” Judge Watros looked surprised.

  “Yes, sir,” Jake stepped forward. “I apologize for being late. I just got news of this . . . situation a little while ago.”

  “And what do you have to do with this situation?” Judge Watros asked.

  “I have been very close to this family for a number of years, including Charles here,” Jake said smoothly. “I think this situation is just a big mistake that has gotten out of hand.”

  “You think that calling me a faggot-loving imbecile is a mistake?”

  Jake swallowed hard and then turned to my grandfather incredulously. “Really?”

  “Well, he is,” my grandfather shrugged.

  “Sir, I don’t know if you’re aware that Mr. Baker here is a fine and upstanding citizen. He’s just having an . . . off day.”

  “Sheriff Farrell, you have a great reputation in this state,” Judge Watros said. “You’re well known and respected. However, the defendant has had a litany of complaints against him. Do you know what they are?”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” Jake grumbled.

  “Well, let me enlighten you,” Judge Watros picked up the file in front of him. “Mr. Baker has been seen on no less than ten occasions walking in his yard naked.”

  “It’s my yard,” my grandfather piped in.

  “He has killed a fly and purposely told a customer to open up and say ‘ah.’”

  “She was a bitch,” my grandfather said. “And she knew it was a joke.”

  “He has threatened customers in his eating establishment when they order poached eggs,” Judge Watros continued. “Including screaming that if they wanted poached eggs, they should tell him to his face they want poached eggs and, when they do, he has lobbed loaves of bread at them.”

  “Well, poached eggs are just stupid.”

  “He drove a car into the river and just left it there,” Judge Watros went back to reading from his list after a brief quelling look at my grandfather.

  “Lexie actually drove the car into the river,” Mario piped up from his seat. “My grandfather just took credit for it.”

  Judge Watros ignored Mario’s outburst. “He terrorized the mailman by putting rotten eggs in his mailbox because he wouldn’t stop putting junk mail in it. Then there was the time he put the handle of a pay phone through the wall at the super market because he couldn’t make a collect call. And, my personal favorite, he planted a series of six lilac bushes – all stolen from a public lot – and placed them in his neighbor’s yard so he wouldn’t have to, and I quote, look at her ugly face again. Now, I ask you, Sheriff Farrell, is this an upstanding citizen?”

  Judge Watros turned to Jake expectantly.

  Jake looked down at his shoes uncertainly. “No, sir, it doesn’t. Mr. Baker is a colorful character, and there’s no crime in that.”

  Jake was grasping at straws now. I had to admire him.

  “I think a few days in jail might be just what the doctor ordered,” Judge Watros said. “And it’s definitely what this judge is ordering. So, Mr. Baker, you are hereby remanded to the city jail until you agree to show up for jury duty.”

  My grandfather didn’t look impressed. “Go ahead, drag me away. I’ll always know, though, that I was right. Because this is America and I am an American and I will fight to the death my right to call that judge a faggot-loving imbecile!”

  And that was all she wrote.

  Twenty-Five

  “Well, that was a nightmare,” I grumbled when Eliot, Jake and I made our way out to the parking lot. I had been careful to avoid my mother as I slipped out of the building. Thankfully, she had been too busy to even look for me after my grandfather had been carted off.

  “I can’t believe he did all of those things,” Jake rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “How does one person even think of doing all those things?”

  “What are you even doing here?” I turned on Jake curiously. The question came out more hostile than I had initially envisioned.

  “Don’t you mean thank you?” Derrick grumbled as he joined the three of us, casting a dark look in my direction. Derrick extended his hand to Jake. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Jake said uncomfortably, shuffling his feet.

  “No, it is a big deal,” Derrick replied. “How did you even find out?”

  That was a good question. “Didn’t you tell him?” I turned to Derrick curiously.

  “No,” Derrick shook his head.

  “There was a memo on my desk,” Jake said. “I assumed it was from Derrick.”<
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  “I would never have asked you to come out here,” Derrick said hurriedly. He was obviously embarrassed by the whole situation.

  “I know,” Jake said, averting Derrick’s gaze. “I know that you wouldn’t try to manipulate me that way.”

  “Good grief,” I muttered. “Why don’t you guys just hug and get it over with?”

  Eliot smirked but Jake merely shook his head in disgust. “You’re enjoying this far too much. I saw you laughing in the back.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” I protested. “I had forgotten about some of that stuff.”

  “He’s in jail,” Derrick countered. “I hardly think it’s funny.”

  “He’s not going to stay in jail,” I argued. “He’ll give in. Eventually.”

  “Have you even met him?” Derrick asked scathingly.

  He had a point.

  “Well, grandma will guilt him into it eventually. He won’t be able to say no to her forever. Especially when our mothers start in on him, too.”

  Derrick considered it for a second and then blew out a sigh. “You’re probably right.”

  “I’m just glad he was wearing pajamas last night so he wasn’t arrested naked.” I was going for levity.

  “Oh, he was naked,” Derrick said. “The cops let him get dressed.”

  “Let him?” Somehow that scenario wasn’t ringing true in my head.

  “I think they insisted,” Derrick conceded.

  Jake and Eliot snickered at the visual.

  Something else was nagging at me, though. I turned back to Jake. “Who would have left a memo on your desk?”

  Jake shrugged and glanced at Derrick. “Who did you tell?”

  “No one,” Derrick said. “Trust me, I wasn’t broadcasting this.”

  Jake turned to me. “Who did you tell?”

  “No one,” I said. “I got the call and came right here.”

  “You obviously told Eliot,” Jake said, inclining his head in Eliot’s direction.

  “He was there when my mom called,” I said. “He’s convinced I’m going to be shot every time I get in a car so he insisted on coming.”

  It wasn’t until Jake frowned that I realized he was irked by the admission that Eliot and I had been together this morning. His reaction wasn’t lost on Eliot either. Before Eliot could say anything snide – and help this situation devolve any further – I jumped into the thick of things with both feet.