The Preditorial Page

by Lee, Amanda M.

  “Fine.” I blew out a sigh. She really is a traitor sometimes.

  Fifteen

  “Holy crap on toast!”

  I couldn’t have said it better myself. The dating event at Fly a Kilt (I know, gag me) was still gearing up, but the participants were already in the room. If I were single, this is about the time I would kill myself. “You’re not really dating any of these people,” I reminded Carly, whispering.

  “I didn’t know this much polyester even existed.”

  “I’m more appalled by the synthetic shoes.”

  “Some people don’t like leather,” Carly pointed out.

  “That doesn’t mean they have to wear ugly shoes,” I shot back. “J-41 makes a whole line of vegan shoes that are gorgeous.”

  “How many pairs do you own?”

  “Two.”

  “You have a problem.”

  I ignored her and glanced around the room. This was starting to feel like a bad idea.

  “Just being in this room is downgrading my street cred,” Carly said.

  “You’re white and from an upper-middle class family,” I pointed out. “You don’t have any street cred.”

  “I’m a badass,” Carly insisted.

  I rolled my eyes. “We have to sign up.” I pointed to the desk at the front of the room.

  “I’m not using my real name.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m not paying.”

  “I didn’t expect you to.”

  “Did I mention I’m not using my real name?”

  “Thirty seconds ago.”

  “What name should I use?”

  I glanced around the room again. “I wouldn’t use anything from Star Trek. It will be a dead giveaway that you’re not really interested in this.”

  “Why is Star Trek geeky but Star Wars is awesome?”

  “They’re both awesome,” I argued. “Star Wars is just better.”

  “Whatever. Are you going to use your real name?”

  There wasn’t a chance in hell. “Nope.”

  “You could be Betty and I could be Veronica.” Carly’s eyes sparkled at the thought.

  “Comic books are too much of a giveaway,” I countered.

  “You could be Ethel and I could be Lucy.”

  “I don’t like the name Ethel.”

  “Fine. What do you suggest?” Carly was almost at her limit.

  “I’ll be Willow and you can be Cordelia,” I offered.

  “Really? Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Why don’t you want to be Buffy?”

  “That’s too obvious. And that’s a great show.”

  “Fine,” Carly blew out a sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  It took almost five minutes to fill out the required paperwork. Who knew lying about your emotional availability would include so many multiple-choice questions? When we were done, we took in the room again.

  “It’s still awful,” Carly said.

  “You only have to spend six minutes with seven guys. That’s less time than most of the guys we slept with in college. How hard can it be?”

  Carly’s eyes rolled so high they were practically swallowed by her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. “Are you looking at the same guys I am?”

  “You’re not really dating them.”

  “It’s still freaky.”

  “Just be nice to them,” I admonished her. “I don’t care what stories you make up, just don’t be mean to them and get us kicked out.”

  “When have I ever gotten us kicked out of a place?” Carly looked incensed.

  “Sophomore year of college. After hours at Pops bar. You threw a glass and we were never allowed back in.”

  “You have a memory like an elephant,” Carly griped.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  The next half hour was hellish, to say the least. Let’s just say I learned more about Dr. Who than any one person should ever know. Hey, I’m a science fiction geek, but even I can only take so much.

  I was on my last date when Carly approached me during the break. “This is a lot more fun than I thought it would be.”

  “Really? I thought you would be complaining about this for months.”

  “I just keep making my lies bigger and bigger,” Carly explained. “I’m an astronaut who moonlights as a model, by the way. I’ve even had a few guys ask for my number.”

  “You didn’t give it to them, did you?” A model? She was five feet, three inches tall.

  “I gave them a number,” Carly replied evasively.

  “Whose?”

  “Kyle’s mom.”

  “They think you live in Chicago? How is that going to work?”

  Carly shrugged. “These guys are just happy for a flesh-and-blood girl to actually talk to them.”

  “They’re going to be crushed when they talk to her instead of you,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah,” Carly agreed. “It’s going to drive Harriet crazy, though. That makes me happy.”

  I scowled at my best friend, trying to make my disapproval obvious, but the smile at the corners of my mouth was making that hard. “You’re awful.”

  “Oh, get over it,” Carly scoffed. “She’s evil.”

  She had a point.

  “Avery Shaw?”

  I froze when I heard my real name. I turned stiffly, surprised to see William Riley standing at my side. “Dr. Riley. What are you doing here?”

  “I was just passing by and I saw you through the window,” he said, pointing to the sidewalk outside. “I thought I would say hi.”

  “Oh, hi.” Well, this was uncomfortable -- and not just because every guy here thought my name was Willow.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Um, well, it’s a speed-dating event,” I offered lamely.

  “I thought you had a boyfriend? That’s what the sheriff’s deputies said anyway.”

  Had he been asking about me? That was weird -- and creepy. He had his hands on and in dead bodies all day. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer in the world to make that all right. “I’m just checking out my options.”

  Carly shifted next to me expectantly. When I didn’t bite at the hint, she took matters into her own hands. “Hi, I’m Carly.” She extended her hand toward Dr. Riley.

  “I’m Bill Riley.”

  “Nice to meet you. How do you know Avery?”

  “Through work,” I interjected hurriedly.

  “I’m the county’s medical examiner.”

  “Oh,” Carly said, wiping her hand on her pants worriedly. “That sounds interesting.”

  “Oh, it is.”

  We lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

  “Well, I guess I should go,” Riley finally said. “It was nice to see you.”

  “You, too,” I smiled.

  “Have fun.”

  “We are,” Carly replied, her enthusiasm evident.

  Once he was gone, Carly fixed me with a hard glare. “You know some really weird people.”

  Thankfully, it was time for our final dates of the night so I didn’t have time to respond.

  My final match was a guy named Zack Fortin. I immediately felt sorry for him. He looked as though he was barely in his twenties and, if I had to guess, he was still looking for his first kiss. A subscription to Proactive -- and some pants that actually fit -- might help that endeavor. Some day. He had floppy brown hair and glasses, and he was a good two inches shorter than me. Think Leonard from The Big Bang Theory -- without the winning personality.

  “You’re really pretty.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. Zack’s intense stare was making me a little itchy.

  “I mean really, really pretty.”

  Crap. “Thank you.”

  “What do you do for a living?”

  “What do you do for a living?” I countered. The less he knew about me, the better.

  “I’m a teaching assistant at Oakland University.”

  “That sounds exciting.”

  “It is,” Zack replied eagerly.
“I love knowledge.”

  “Cool.”

  “What do you love?”

  I didn’t think that “any place but here” was an appropriate answer. “I’m a big Star Wars fan.”

  Yep, that was a big mistake.

  “I am, too,” Zack enthused. “Who is your favorite character?”

  This seemed like a safe subject. “Han Solo.”

  “He’s so cool,” Zack agreed.

  “What about you?”

  “I like everyone,” Zack replied. “Senator Palpatine is probably my favorite, though.”

  This was not an auspicious start. At least he hadn’t said Jar Jar Binks. I decided to change the subject. “What else do you like?”

  “I like to read.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I like science fiction and steampunk.”

  No wonder this guy was speed dating. “I like Lord of the Rings and chick lit.”

  “What’s chick lit?”

  “Like Janet Evanovich,” I offered.

  “Who is she?”

  “She writes chick lit.”

  “I still don’t know what that is,” Zack shrugged helplessly.

  “It’s just easy reading for girls.”

  “That sounds cool. I’ll have to look it up.”

  That should help his dating life. No one was going to think he was gay if he was reading about Stephanie Plum’s antics in Starbucks. “I’d stick to the science fiction,” I suggested. “When you like something you should stick with it.”

  “Right.”

  We lapsed into uncomfortable silence again. Could this night feel any longer?

  “So, how are you single?” Zack asked.

  Uh-oh. I’d managed to get through the previous dates without any overt lies --other than my name, that is. Apparently, when you come to these things, all people want to talk about is themselves. “Just lucky, I guess.”

  “Are you bipolar or something?”

  “No.”

  “Do you have an STD?”

  “No!”

  “Are you sexually frigid?”

  Hmm, maybe that was a way out. “Define sexually frigid.”

  “Are you scared to know the love of a man?” Zack expounded.

  “That’s kind of a personal question,” I hedged. When is that little bell going to ding?

  “I’d like to hear the answer to it, though.”

  I recognized the voice -- and it would resonate in my nightmares for weeks to come. I turned stiffly, meeting Eliot’s furious glare as he towered above me, and inadvertently gulped. “Hey, sweetie.”

  Sixteen

  Eliot didn’t exactly look angry. He looked dangerous.

  He was standing right behind me, hand on my shoulder, sneer on his face as he regarded Zack. “And who might you be?”

  “I’m Zack Fortin.” Zack extended his hand, oblivious to the storm that was about to hit.

  “And this is?” Eliot gestured to the small table at which we sat.

  “We’re on a date.” Zack sounded a little too proud of himself.

  Eliot glanced down at me, his eyes darkening as he considered his options. “A date?”

  “It’s not really a date,” I said, although explaining what I was really doing here wasn’t going to get me out of trouble -- it was just going to add a different layer of yelling to this evening’s festivities.

  “Zack here says it’s a date,” Eliot countered.

  Zack is an idiot. “It’s more like an event,” I corrected him.

  “An event?”

  “Yeah. An event.”

  I felt Eliot’s fingers tighten on my shoulder. He wasn’t flying off the handle, though. At least not yet. I watched him for signs of sudden violence, but his gaze had moved past Zack and landed on Carly. “Is that who I think it is?”

  Zack looked over his shoulder in the direction Eliot’s dark eyes were fixed and then nodded. “Yeah, that’s Cordelia. She’s pretty, too. Not as pretty as Willow here, but definitely pretty.” Zack shot me what I’m sure he thought was a winning smile. It made me want to punch him in the mouth.

  “Cordelia and Willow?”

  I didn’t answer, even though the pressure he was exerting on my shoulder was starting to get uncomfortable.

  “Like in Buffy the Vampire Slayer?”

  “Oh, wow, that is a weird coincidence,” Zack laughed. “Did you guys realize that? That’s so cool.”

  Eliot’s grip on my shoulder lessened. He looked more confused than anything else now. “Do you want to explain this to me, Willow?”

  “It’s speed dating,” I choked out.

  Eliot’s eyebrows moved up an inch. “Speed dating?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And is there a reason you’re speed dating?”

  “I think she wants to meet her soul mate,” Zack said, his eyes dreamy and his smile goofy.

  Eliot was having trouble keeping up his façade of being angry with Zack. That, at least, was a good sign. “Do you think you’re her soul mate?”

  Zack looked taken aback by the question. “I wish,” he said. “She’s too pretty for me, though. She’ll probably end up with a guy like you.”

  Eliot pursed his lips. “Um, Willow, would you like to step outside with me? I have a few things to discuss with you.”

  “Are we going to be discussing things or yelling?” I asked, fighting to stay in my seat as he attempted to force me out of it.

  Zack furrowed his brow. “Why would you be yelling?”

  I ignored the question and focused on Eliot’s face. “I’m not going to yell,” Eliot said.

  “Do you promise?”

  “I promise,” he practically growled. “Now get your ass outside.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you’re not going to yell,” I said.

  “Go!”

  I hurried out the front door, pausing long enough to turn back and give Zack a half-hearted shrug. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out.”

  “That’s okay,” Zack said. “Is that guy your boyfriend?”

  I considered the question while Eliot waited for my answer -- almost as though he was curious to hear what I would say. “I guess we’ll find out in five minutes.”

  I moved back toward the door, watching as Eliot paused long enough to find Carly again. “Should I go get her?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “We’re almost done. She’s been telling people she’s an astronaut and stuff. I think she’s having fun. She’ll come outside when she’s finished.”

  “What if she finds a date?” Eliot asked.

  I waited until the door had completely shut before I answered. “That’s not very likely in that room.”

  Eliot crossed his arms over his broad chest and waited. His eyes were slits in the moonlight, and he kept making this weird throat clearing sound as I shifted back and forth. “So, how was your night?” I asked, going for a bright and sunny demeanor that I hoped would stay his anger.

  “Boring.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “Well, I should amend that,” Eliot said. “It was boring until a customer came in and said they saw my girlfriend having dinner with someone else at a restaurant. A romantic dinner, I might add.”

  “I was not having dinner,” I countered. “It was appetizers and drinks. Total ripoff for fifty bucks if you ask me.”

  “What were you doing?” Eliot pressed, his voice calm but his posture rigid.

  “You know what I was doing. Speed dating.”

  “Why?”

  That was a really tricky question. “I don’t really want to answer you.” Even I was surprised when the words escaped my mouth.

  Eliot looked suspicious. “You don’t want to answer me?”

  “Not really,” I hedged.

  “Okay, I guess I’ll start with the obvious question: Are you interested in that guy?”

  I had to fight to control the laughter threatening to erupt from my mouth. “What do you think?”

  “I think you
were out speed dating.”

  “With Carly,” I scoffed.

  “Speaking of, why is Carly, a woman who has been married less than a month, out here speed dating with you?”

  “She was mad at Kyle,” I explained. “He chews too loud and he Skypes with his mother every day and it was irritating her.”

  Eliot rolled his eyes. “So she thought that speed dating was the answer? She’s going to cheat on Kyle because he chews too loud?”

  “No one was cheating on anyone,” I corrected him. “We were just trying to get a feel for the event.”

  Eliot was instantly suspicious -- even more suspicious than he had been only moments before. “Why?”

  I shifted again, trying to put a little distance between the two of us. “I was thinking of doing a story on it,” I lied, averting my eyes from his.

  “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?”

  Oh, he believed me. “I didn’t want you to freak out.”

  “No, that’s not it.”

  Uh-oh.

  Eliot’s face turned thoughtful. “You didn’t tell me because you’re doing something else here.”

  “Like what?”

  Eliot glanced over my shoulder, making sure Carly was still in his line of sight, and then glanced back down at me. He had me backed into a corner, my back flat against the cool brick wall of the restaurant with no hope of escape. “I’m not quite sure.”

  “Well then, you’re making baseless accusations.”

  Eliot pursed his lips. Suddenly, realization dawned on his face. “I haven’t seen you since this morning.”

  “I missed you, too,” I said, wrapping my arms around him in the hope of momentarily distracting him.

  Eliot pushed me away irritably. “You were going to the Parker residence.”

  “I did go there.”

  “Did you interview the family?”

  “Actually, it turns out that Caleb Crumb beat me to the punch and he interviewed them before I got there.”

  “So what did you do all day?”

  “I hung out with Carly,” I replied.

  “I’m missing a step,” Eliot muttered to himself, rubbing his hand through his hair haphazardly. “You went to the Parkers. You found out Crumb was there. You found out something else, though, which made you sucker Carly into going speed dating with you.”

  “I didn’t have to sucker her,” I countered.

  Eliot’s smile tightened into a grim line. “Did Ellie Parker go speed dating before she disappeared?”