Oh, well, that was the most insulting thing he could’ve said to me. “This isn’t funny.”
He ran his thumb over my cheek. “It’s a little funny.”
“No.”
“Try watching from where I’m standing.”
“I’m good, thanks.” I pulled away from him and shuffled toward the door, doing my best to decide if I was angry or relieved we hadn’t indulged in a big blow-up. “I’m still not sure I’m onboard with this.”
“Of course you’re not.” His grin widened. “When called on anything like this, you feel the need to dig your heels in. I’m hoping this phase of your development won’t last long and you keep ahead of schedule.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Messing with you? Yes. Looking forward to the future? Definitely.”
“No, you’re enjoying torturing me.”
“That, too.”
I shook my head and yanked open the door. “I haven’t decided yet, but I might torture you later because of this. I need to think it over.”
“I need to think over some things too. Like how we’re going to get the information you need. Hopefully, after a few hours of thinking, we’ll come up with acceptable answers.”
“That would be lovely.” I turned on my heel and flounced toward the door, shooting Mario a glare. He was standing in front of the mirror Eliot kept in the corner in case people wanted to try certain items on. He wore a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and held a rustic rifle across his chest. He also looked to be wearing an antique necklace featuring a chunky ruby.
“Who are you supposed to be?” I asked, baffled.
“My mother.”
“Since when does she carry a gun?”
“I’m thinking about getting it for her for Christmas.”
“Good choice.” I sent Eliot one more haughty look as he wandered into the showroom and then pushed open the door. I refused to engage in the conversation a moment longer. I was so focused on maintaining my facade that I wasn’t watching where I was going and collided with a passing pedestrian. We crashed into each other hard enough that I was knocked back against Eliot’s door. Thankfully the glass was reinforced so I didn’t fall through it.
“I’m so sorry,” I offered as I readjusted my stance. “I didn’t see you there. I apologize. I ....” Whatever I was going to say died on my lips as I met a pair of familiar eyes.
Tad Ludington, the man I was accused of trying to murder, stood directly in front of me. He seemed as surprised to see me as I was to see him. “Um ... hello.”
As far as greetings went between us, it was downright warm. “Hi.” I straightened my shoulders, debating how much snark was allowable when dealing with a man who had been out of the hospital only a few weeks. “I see you’re not dying of a staph infection or anything. That’s good. I’m still hoping you get hemorrhoids or something.”
Under different circumstances, Tad might’ve picked up the challenge. Instead, he remained subdued. “I was going to stop in and see you at the newspaper, but then I thought better of it.”
“That’s wise. They have a photo of you at the front desk with instructions to throw hand grenades if you try to enter the building.”
Not even a hint of a smile met the jab. Of course, I wasn’t expecting him to be amused. “I have some things to say to you, but I didn’t think they were appropriate for a work setting.”
Oh, well, crap. I should’ve expected this. He was going to blame me for what happened with Fawn. He hired her to mess with Eliot and me, yet he was going to blame us.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I offered. “I don’t really care if you blame us. We didn’t do anything to you.”
Eliot picked that moment to slip through the front door, his gaze bouncing between Tad and me. He’d obviously been watching from inside ... and he didn’t look happy. “Do we have a problem?”
Tad gave him only a brief glance. “I have something to say to both of you. I guess it’s best that we ran into each other now, before I’m back at the county building full time and you’re ... doing whatever it is that you do to disrupt the government process.”
“Sometimes I do dirty mimes when I’m bored,” I offered, earning a smirk from Eliot.
“Can we just get through this?” Tad challenged, agitation coming out to play. “I really don’t want to spend any more time than I have to with the two of you.”
“Well, we don’t want to spend any time with you,” I shot back. “How about we split the difference and say goodbye?”
“I would like nothing more,” Tad acknowledged. “I believe I owe the two of you a few words of gratitude. It’s the least I can offer after what happened.”
I blinked several times in rapid succession. He couldn’t be serious.
“If by least you mean very least, then you’re right,” Eliot acknowledged. “That’s the least you can do.”
Tad shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. He was paler than usual, which wasn’t saying much because he was the poster child for pasty white dudes the world over. He was also thinner, and almost seemed a bit delicate. “I didn’t know when I hired her that she was crazy.”
Eliot’s hand landed on my back, and even though I was still annoyed with him, it was a steadying presence.
“I didn’t know she was crazy when I hired her either,” Eliot offered. “I guess we’re even on that one.”
“Except you didn’t hire her to mess with anyone,” I muttered.
Tad nodded in agreement. “I did hire her to mess with you. I’m pretty sure I’ve already been punished for that. I’m not here to make some grand gesture. Too many things have happened for that. I’m here to thank you for making sure she didn’t get a chance to finish the job.”
I stood rooted to my spot, dumbfounded. “Wait ... are you actually thanking us?”
Tad looked pained at the prospect. “I am. Several people — including my ex-wife, her father and the sheriff — have pointed out that I owe being alive to you. I don’t particularly like being in your debt, but ... it is what it is.”
I felt trapped, like one of those prehistoric bugs sealed in amber. “I ... um ....”
Eliot slid me a sidelong look. “Are you speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.”
That snapped me back to reality. “I am most certainly not speechless. I’m just ... it’s been a very long day. I’m tired.”
“Apparently so.”
I ignored him and focused on Tad. It felt like something needed to be said. “Listen, I’m not some altruistic soul. I didn’t save you because it was the right thing to do. I saved myself. You were collateral damage, so to speak.”
That garnered a ghost of a smile from Tad. “I’m well aware.”
“I don’t want you feeling as if you owe us anything. You don’t.”
“Fair enough.”
“I prefer fighting with you on even ground, so ... don’t hold back. I won’t.”
“I have no intention of holding back. Once I’m back to work full time, which is right around the corner, I have every intention of squashing you like a bug.”
“That’s more like it.” I managed a genuine smile, which felt awkward. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but you’re still a big zit on the ass of life.”
Tad nodded in what looked to be thanks as much as anything else. “And you’re still evil on two legs. It was nice seeing you.”
“Yes, let’s not do it again.”
19 Nineteen
“Well ... that was interesting.”
Eliot’s expression reflected amusement as we watched Tad walk to the county building.
“That’s not exactly the word I’d use,” I muttered. My talk with Tad left me feeling out of sorts. It was the most congenial interaction he and I had managed since our college years. “What do you think he’s up to?”
“I think he felt the need to apologize and did it in the most Ludington way possible.”
“H
e’s a tool.”
“He is. You were nicer to him than I expected.”
“You missed the part where I lamented the fact that he didn’t have an undiagnosed staph infection.”
Eliot arched an eyebrow. “You’re not really that cold. If someone was suffering from that affliction, you’d be the first to help ... or stand up for that person if someone was giving him or her a hard time.”
“Not Tad.”
“I think you’d stand up for him too.”
“Then you don’t know me at all.” I moved toward my car. “I have to get back to work.”
He snagged my arm. “I’m not quite done yet.”
“Well, I am. I don’t want to argue.”
“We’re not going to argue.”
“It feels like it.”
“You only think that because you were with Tad and it didn’t erupt into a huge argument. You were expecting fireworks and got tea lights.”
I wanted to argue, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. “I have to get back to work. I need to do some digging.”
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he said. “I don’t want you getting hurt. I understand you have a job to do. I also understand you’re going to go to that halfway house again. You can’t help yourself.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I know, but I prefer you take me with you.”
I bit back a sigh ... although just barely. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Think of me as your partner, not a babysitter.”
“I think that’s what got us into this mess in the first place,” I groused. “If I hadn’t been so open to working with you, this marriage stuff never would’ve come up.”
“It’s too late to take it back.”
I pressed the tip of my tongue to the back of my teeth, considering. He wasn’t asking for all that much. He simply wanted me to reassure him I wouldn’t do anything stupid. “If I plan to head down there again, I’ll call you. But I won’t wait. You have to be ready to move when I say we’re moving.”
“Fair enough.”
“I also get to be in charge if we go down there. Like ... when I tell you to do something, you have to do it.”
“I can live with that. I love being dominated by a woman.”
I shot him a withering look. “You might change your mind once we’re in the thick of it.”
“It’s a compromise, and I know that’s difficult for you. Given all the upheaval in our lives right now, and the stress you’re under, I’m happy to follow your rules.”
The fact that he could say that with a straight face — and mean it — drove me crazy. “Why must you always be so amiable?”
“I’m an amiable guy.” He leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. “Let me know if you want to take another run at the halfway house. I predict that’s coming soon.”
“There was nothing going down there earlier. It was quiet, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“But you have a feeling, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s that your feelings generally turn into something concrete.”
“I am a genius for the most part.”
His smile widened. “You’re ... something.” He gave my hand a squeeze and took a step back. “I need to get back to the books. I’d like to have them finished when the inevitable call comes.”
“It’s unlikely that I’ll be heading back there today.”
“I have feelings too, and my gut tells me you’ll change your mind.”
It was possible he was right, so I let it go and offered up a mock salute. “I’ll be in touch.”
“I’ll be here.”
I STOPPED BY FISH’S DESK LONG ENOUGH to update him upon returning to the office.
“Anything?” He looked hopeful.
“A lot of little things that might eventually turn into a big thing,” I replied. “Nothing concrete yet.”
“Well, that sucks.” He turned back to his computer. “It’s a slow news day.”
I hesitated — did I really want to do this? — and then plunged forward. “I saw Tad Ludington on Main Street. He’s back on his feet and working at the county building. You might want to send someone over to interview him about his return to the job.”
Fish’s eyes went wide. “Please tell me you didn’t kick him in public.”
I scowled. “Why would you think that?”
“Because I’ve met you ... and him. More importantly, I’ve seen you together.”
“Yes, well, it was a perfectly pleasant interlude.” I frowned at the memory. “He actually thanked me for saving his life.”
Fish’s lips curved. “Now, that’s more like it ... other than him thanking you. Do you think he meant it?”
“I don’t know. He seemed sincere. It was freaky.”
“It’s a good tip, though. What are you going to do?”
“Eliot is trying to come up with some names for me, people who lived in that halfway house with Beau. I’m going to do some general digging.”
“And Farrell still isn’t releasing the other names?”
I thought back to my meeting with Jake. “No, but whatever they’re sitting on is big. He didn’t come right out and say it, but he alluded to it.”
“And you’re leaning toward a mob hit?”
“I don’t know. Using the word ‘mob’ makes me uncomfortable.”
“Since when do you care about stuff like that?”
“I said it makes me uncomfortable, not that it’s the wrong word. Still ... that might be an overreach. So far, all I know is that Beau romanced women for money, which could be motive for murder. I also know he was apparently selling a drug called Hypno and he likely got other people at the halfway house involved. That’s it. That’s all I have.”
“And no names on the other victims,” Fish mused. “Has Farrell at least confirmed the number of dead?”
I nodded. “Seven. There were seven bodies total. One was separated from the pack.”
“Beau Burton.”
“I don’t know that. I couldn’t really make out his face. I can’t even hazard a guess. There’s a possibility that the one body was separated from the others because that guy made a run for it. Maybe he tried to beat the train and died in the attempt.”
“And Farrell is being unusually tight-lipped.”
“He most definitely is.”
“Have you considered that’s because he’s getting pressure from above?”
“The state police? I’ve considered it.”
“It could be the FBI, too, especially if you’re talking about significant drug sales.”
“All I know is that he’s acting squirrelly. He doesn’t want me down there.”
“I’m not sure it’s smart for you to go down there either.”
“Oh, don’t start.” I made a face. “Between you, Eliot and Jake, I’ve just about had my fill of bossy men. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”
“I never said otherwise. Perhaps it’s not bossy as much as protective.”
“You sound like Eliot.”
“How is the long-haired wonder? Is he regretting his future plans yet?”
I shot him a withering look. “Not last time I checked.”
“Give him time.”
“I’ll have you know that some people think I’m a catch.”
“Nobody sane.” He winked at me and then went back to his computer. “Keep digging. I know you’ll find something.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you’re you. I’m pretty sure you don’t know how to fail.”
And that was the nicest thing he could’ve said to me.
I DUG INTO MORE RECORDS ON BEAU. The guy had a horrible reputation, and it wasn’t hard to read between the lines on some of the stories. In one, the prosecutor mentioned a woman who sold her share in a private plane. That had to be Greta Hamilton, a rich widow who lived in Grosse Pointe. She’d made the news recently when that plane c
rashed and everyone thought there was a chance she’d been on it. At the time of the crash, she reassured the public and mentioned selling her share of the plane.
I didn’t know much about Greta. I’d met her at a few charitable events. She was a big supporter of the arts and gave regularly to the Anton Art Center in Mount Clemens. Most of the memories I had of her revolved around a couple of art fundraisers, where she never gave me more than a few seconds to offer a quick quote on how valuable art was to the community.
Leslie Firestone was another possibility. She lived on Harsens Island and had ties to the community through her father, a former mayor of Warren. Her husband served on the county board of commissioners for decades and was a big deal when he died a few years ago. Leslie was rich and liked to attend swanky events in four-figure evening gowns, which meant having a man on her arm was a must. I’d never known her to keep anyone around for more than a few months. It was possible Beau was one of those flings.
On a whim, I ran Cal’s name. I wasn’t expecting much, but I got a hit right away in the county court system. At first, I assumed he was simply listed as a witness for one of the men who lived in his house, but when I pulled up the file, I found something else entirely.
Cal Shepperly — the age looked right — had been arrested for intent to distribute meth ten years ago. He’d been arraigned in District Court in Warren, his bond set at one-hundred thousand dollars, high for a standard drug case. I dug for details but there wasn’t much. That was years before I worked for The Monitor.
I rolled my chair to Marvin’s cubicle. He was all smiles.
“Anything good on your story?” he asked. There was little Marvin loved more than a messy murder.
“I’m working on it.” I held up my phone so he could see the mugshot I’d found on the county’s website. “Does he look familiar?”
Marvin leaned closer. “Should he? I mean ... he looks like any garden-variety pimp down on Eight Mile.”
I couldn’t disagree with that. “He runs a halfway house in Detroit. I did a search on his name out of curiosity. Says he was arrested for meth in Warren — his bail was set at a hundred-grand — and yet the charges against him were dismissed at the circuit court level. I thought you might remember the story.”
Mayhem & Mistletoe Page 18