Headlines & Deadlines (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 7)

by Amanda M. Lee

  I rolled my eyes until they landed on Eliot. “I’m betting greasy diner food is looking better and better to you right now, isn’t it?”

  “Live and learn, Trouble,” Eliot replied. “Live and learn.”

  Seventeen

  “Did Jake say anything to you after I left the sheriff’s department this afternoon?” I asked, leaning forward so I could peer through the ice frosting the windshield.

  “Have you ever considered letting the frost melt before you drive?” Eliot asked, ignoring my question. “That tiny little spot is not enough to give you a clear field of vision.”

  “I can see fine.”

  “That’s why you have your nose pressed against the window like a blind idiot,” Eliot said. “Pull over.”

  “No.”

  “Pull over right now!”

  “I … why?”

  “Because I’m going to drive,” Eliot said.

  “I am perfectly capable of driving,” I countered. “I don’t need you to do it for me.”

  “Obviously you do,” Eliot said. “Pull into that gas station right now. I am not joking.”

  “I … .”

  “Avery, I haven’t told you where to find Leo Putnam yet,” Eliot said. “I won’t tell you if you don’t pull over.”

  I made a face, frustrated by his ballsy attitude. “Are you blackmailing me?”

  “I’m negotiating with you,” Eliot clarified.

  “Fine,” I said, switching lanes and pulling into the gas station. I put the car in park and faced him. “The fact that you just blackmailed me kind of turns me on.”

  The frown on Eliot’s face tipped upside down. “You’re unbelievable,” he said. “Get out of the car and switch seats. Where is your ice scraper?”

  “It broke.”

  “It broke? When?”

  I shrugged. “Two weeks ago.”

  “That’s why you’re driving with only a peephole in the windshield?”

  “Listen, traffic police, I know how to drive,” I said. “I don’t like your tone. I’m not sixteen.”

  “Sit your rear end in that passenger seat and be quiet,” Eliot ordered, stalking toward the front door of the station’s convenience store. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but there was a lot of grumbling. Before he moved too far away I distinctly heard “going to be the death of me,” “I’m going to kill her,” and “she purposely does this to see how far she can push me.” I was glad I couldn’t hear the rest.

  Ten minutes later we were on the expressway and heading toward Detroit, the windshield devoid of all ice and a new scraper behind the driver’s seat. Eliot’s eyes were focused on the road and his mouth was shut, but I could feel the tension rolling off of him.

  “You never answered me about Jake,” I said. “Did he ask what I’m investigating?”

  “No,” Eliot replied. “I think our lunch together was enough to turn him off to conversation about you. He’s going to have his hands full with Cara tonight. I don’t think he wants to fight with me, too.”

  That was a lot to absorb. “How does he have his hands full with Cara?”

  “She’s jealous,” Eliot explained. “She’s also worried. She thinks Jake still has feelings for you.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “We just had this conversation,” Eliot said. “Jake does still have feelings for you. He has no intention on acting on them, but that doesn’t mean feelings disappear overnight.”

  “If you think Jake has feelings for me why are you being friendly with him?” I challenged.

  “Because … he’s a good guy,” Eliot said. “Don’t ever tell him I said that.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t you worried he’ll make a move on me?”

  “No.”

  Was that an insult? I’m hot when I want to be. “Why not?”

  “That’s not the way Jake is wired,” Eliot said. “If he was planning on making a move on you he would tell me first. He’s a good guy. That’s how good guys do things. For the sake of argument, though, if he did make a move on you I know you’d turn him down.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do,” Eliot said, winking. “You’re too much of a prude to be a cheater.”

  “You suck.”

  “ARE YOU sure he’s down here?” I asked, huddling closer to Eliot so I could share his warmth as we scanned Chene Park.

  “No. I know that his arrest record says he’s been picked up here five times on various charges … mostly drug-related. I figured it was the best place to look because he doesn’t appear to have a permanent address.”

  “It’s too cold for someone to hang out here,” I said, involuntarily shivering.

  Eliot wrapped his arm around my back and pulled me closer as he studied the park. “Some people have no choice but to survive the cold,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors of a tent town somewhere around here. He might be staying there.”

  “What’s a tent town?”

  “It’s where homeless people group together in small communities.”

  “Why?”

  “Everyone gets lonely, Trouble,” Eliot said.

  “I don’t.”

  “While you are fully capable of entertaining yourself for long stretches of time you are also a social being,” Eliot argued. “Why do you think you planned on spending the entire day Sunday playing video games but gave up three hours later so you could visit Lexie?”

  “I was stuck on a level,” I protested.

  “Whatever. It’s a Lego game. You don’t get stuck on a level. You wanted someone to talk to. I’m sure Leo Putnam is no different.”

  “I guess.”

  We lapsed into companionable silence, Eliot keeping his gloved hands in constant motion over my arms and back so I didn’t get too cold. It wasn’t long before a furtive figure moved into our line of sight. Eliot stiffened, narrowing his eyes so he could focus.

  “I’m pretty sure that’s him,” Eliot said.

  “Me, too.”

  “You stay here. I’ll circle around and see if I can cut him off.”

  “Don’t even think about it,” I chided. “You’re going to stay right here while I go and talk to him.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  “Eliot, you’re going to be right here,” I reminded him. “He’s much more likely to talk to me alone than both of us – or just you. You’re too big. You’ll scare him.”

  “I … Avery, I can’t let you do this alone. It’s not safe.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said. “This is my job.”

  “My job is to keep you safe.”

  “You’ll keep me safe,” I said. “I have faith. Please … I won’t be long. I won’t go anywhere with him and I’ll stay out in the open. I need to talk to him, though. You know I do.”

  Eliot blew out a frustrated sigh. “You’d better not even think about moving out of my sight line.”

  “I won’t.

  “Be careful.” He kissed my forehead, the warmth of his mouth momentarily making me long for the comforts of home.

  “I have faith you’ll keep me safe,” I said. “Maybe you should have faith that I know how to take care of myself.”

  “I know you can take care of yourself. Nobody is infallible, though.”

  “Not even the great Eliot Kane?” I teased.

  “No one,” Eliot said. “Be quick. I don’t like this whole setup, and it’s going to be dark soon.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  I APPROACHED Leo slowly, keeping my hands outstretched so he didn’t think I was hiding a weapon, and shooting him a congenial smile. When he heard my approaching footsteps, he lifted his head and stared at me.

  He looked like the sketch … sort of. In person his nose was flatter – as were his eyes – and he was shorter than I initially envisioned. This guy couldn’t be more than a hundred and sixty pounds soaking wet. He didn’t look like a killer. Yes, I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, this guy screamed
“drug addict” instead of “contract killer.”

  “Hi,” I said, keeping my voice low. “How are you tonight?”

  “Hungry.”

  I knew what he was hinting at. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a twenty. Leo’s eyes gleamed as he reached for the bill, but I yanked it back. “I have questions.”

  “I haven’t seen anything.”

  “How do you know what I’m asking about?” I challenged.

  “I … I’m hungry.”

  I had a feeling that pathetic hangdog look on his face worked to his advantage from time to time. “I need information on Julia Grisham.” I saw no sense in lying. If I wanted to get to the truth I couldn’t go after it via the long route.

  “Don’t know her.” Leo’s dark hair, which was shot through with gray at the temples, glinted under the setting sun. I put his age around fifty – but looks can be deceiving when you spend all of your time on the street.

  “That’s the woman whose body was in the trunk of the car you drove to that Warren parking lot.” I was playing a hunch. “How did you kill her?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone!” Leo gripped his hands together nervously, shooting a look at the nearby trees. I could see his mind working. He was going to bolt.

  “Did someone pay you to drive the car to the parking lot?”

  “I … don’t know what you’re talking about,” Leo said. “I’m not a criminal. I’m a good man.”

  “You know the police are circulating a sketch of you, right? They think you had something to do with Julia’s death.”

  “I’m not a bad man,” Leo said. “I’m … hungry.”

  “I know you’re hungry,” I said, shaking the twenty for good measure. “I’m going to give you this to eat – or drink – whatever you want tonight. I need answers first.”

  “I don’t have any answers,” Leo said. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Leo, it’s only a matter of time before the police track you down,” I said. “You need to tell me what happened the night Julia Grisham was killed. Were you there? Did you see it? Did you … do it?”

  “No!”

  I wasn’t getting anywhere going at him this way. Leo’s twitchy demeanor had my mind hopping between two distinct camps: He was either mentally ill or ravaged by drugs. I honestly wasn’t sure which. I decided to simplify things.

  “Do you know Julia Grisham?”

  Leo nodded, shuffling back and forth nervously. “She’s a teacher at the college.”

  “She is,” I said. “Do you go to the college?”

  “I go there to eat sometimes.”

  Hmm. How did that work? “Did Julia feed you?”

  Leo enthusiastically nodded.

  Okay, that was at least something. “How did you meet Julia? Did you approach her at the college?”

  “Yes. I wanted money for something to eat. She wouldn’t give me money. She said I would waste it on alcohol or drugs. She bought me lunch. I went back a couple days later and she did it again. I started going to see her once a week.”

  “Did Julia eat with you?”

  “She talked to me,” Leo said, nodding. “She took me home for dinner a few times. She … cared.”

  “I’m sure she did,” I said. “When did you find out Julia was dead?”

  “Julia’s not dead,” Leo said. “She’s just not at work. She told me she doesn’t work every day. I forget sometimes.”

  I was starting to lean toward a mental disability. He seemed … slow, for lack of a better word. Drugs could very well be compounding the problem, though. “Do you know Julia’s husband?”

  “Adam.”

  “Yes. Do you know Adam?”

  “He likes to talk to me sometimes,” Leo said. “He … takes me to the bar. We’re not supposed to tell Julia. She’ll get mad. She gives me food and he buys me drinks.”

  A picture was starting to form in my head. Adam Grisham could have groomed Leo to take part in a crime he had no idea he was committing. First he sucked him in with alcohol and secrets (and probably sex) and then he asked him for a favor. Of course, I could also be projecting all of this because I didn’t want to believe Leo was a bad guy.

  “Did you drive Julia’s car to a parking lot and leave it there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you look in the trunk?”

  “No.”

  “Did … who asked you to drive the car?” I asked.

  Leo shifted his attention to a spot beyond my shoulder. I had a feeling it was Eliot, but I was afraid to turn around. “Leo … Leo … Leo!”

  Leo snapped his attention back to me. “I’m hungry.”

  I sighed. Keeping him on task was work. Maybe if I could get him into a shelter … or even rehab … things would be better. “How would you like a roof over your head tonight? Do you want to go to a place where you can warm up?”

  “A bar?”

  “No,” I replied, shaking my head. “No bar. I don’t think you need a bar. I think you need the opposite of a bar.”

  “Rehab?” Leo asked, narrowing his eyes.

  “Have you been to rehab before?”

  “I’m not going back to the hospital,” Leo hissed. “You can’t make me.”

  I held up my hands to placate him. “I didn’t say you had to go to the hospital. I just think … .”

  Leo was done listening. He reached over quickly, his hands moving faster than I realized possible given his slouch, and snatched the twenty from my hand.

  “Hey!”

  I could hear Eliot’s feet pounding against the frozen ground as he raced to my rescue. Leo must have heard it, too, because in his haste to escape he gave me a hard shove.

  I hit the snow-packed earth hard, my breath momentarily knocked out of me. Eliot was at my side almost instantaneously. “Avery?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “I’ll go after him.”

  “Don’t bother,” I said. “Just … let him go. He’s terrified. He thinks I want to put him in a hospital.”

  “Did he tell you anything?” Eliot asked, his eyes serious as he helped me to my feet.

  “Actually he did,” I said. “He’s a little scattered. I think he’s stoned, drunk, and mentally … slow.”

  “He should make a great witness,” Eliot said.

  “I’m more worried they’re going to railroad him,” I said.

  “Do you think he killed Julia Grisham?”

  “No. I think Adam Grisham killed his wife and he’s using Leo as a scapegoat. Come on. Let’s go back to the car. I’ll fill you in on our way back to Mount Clemens.”

  “And then what?” Eliot asked.

  “And then I’m going to file a story,” I said.

  “Are you sure you want to do that? We could investigate more. We could … tell Jake where Leo is.”

  “I’m sure I’m going to file a story,” I said. “We’ve uncovered a lot, and I’m afraid if I wait much longer someone else is going to tip off some other media type.”

  “Okay,” Eliot said. “Drop me at my truck and go to the newspaper. I’ll follow you back to the office and wait for you to finish.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of finding my way home on my own,” I reminded him.

  “Maybe I want to find my way home with you,” Eliot countered, rubbing his thumb against my cold cheek.

  That was kind of sweet … and overbearing. He’s too cute for words sometimes. He’s also a complete and total pain in the ass. Ah, well, I didn’t have time to argue with him. It was time to break a story – and I couldn’t wait to see how everyone responded to my big scoop.

  Eighteen

  I found Eliot nursing a mug of coffee in front of the television the next morning, his face intent as he studied the screen.

  “What are you watching?” I asked, yawning as I shuffled into the room.

  “You’re famous,” Eliot said, gesturing toward the television.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Look.”

  I focused on t
he morning news program. The Channel 2 anchor was talking about Julia Grisham’s death and today’s edition of The Monitor was up next to an unflattering headshot of me as they discussed my story.

  After a long chat with Fish the previous evening, which included his return to the office so he could personally edit my story, we decided to include as much information as we dared without putting Lexie on the spot as the person who identified Leo Putnam. In fact, instead of giving his identification, we referred to him as a “homeless individual with ties to the Grisham family.” While Fish wasn’t worried about Putnam acquiring the services of a lawyer to sue us, he didn’t want to give anyone unnecessary ammunition. We played it safe.

  “What are they saying?” I asked, pushing Eliot’s leg over so I could settle next to him on the couch.

  Eliot handed me his coffee wordlessly, knowing I wanted caffeine but also needed to see the morning broadcast at the same time.

  “You don’t look happy,” I said quietly, sipping the coffee and watching him. “Are you … angry with me?”

  “I’m not angry,” Eliot said. “I’m concerned. Avery, everyone is buzzing about this story. Everyone. It’s on all three television stations and you can bet it’s on the radio and Internet, too. The other newspapers are going to be chasing this, and they’re going to be aggressive given the fact that you scooped them.”

  “I scoop them all the time. I’m awesome. That’s what I do.”

  Eliot forced a tight smile for my benefit. “They’re also accusing you of getting special treatment and saying someone in the sheriff’s department is feeding you inside information.”

  “No one from the sheriff’s department fed me anything,” I countered. “I got everything through other sources.”

  “Sources you didn’t name,” Eliot said. “People are assuming you got it from the sheriff’s department. This is going to blow back on Jake. You know that, right?”

  Unfortunately, I did. “I can’t help that. I offered him a chance to share information and he declined.”

  “I’m guessing he had no idea how much you’d managed to uncover,” Eliot said, grabbing the coffee back from me. “To be fair, you don’t have proof here. You have a lot of innuendo where Grisham is concerned. Just because he’s a sex freak who cheated on his wife doesn’t mean he’s a murderer.”