I shrugged. “Maybe one day. For right now we prefer sinning.”
“Uh-huh.”
Eliot picked that moment to emerge from the house. He briefly registered surprise when he caught sight of our visitors, but the sly grin that washed over his features a moment later caused my heart to sink. He was plotting something evil. I just knew it.
“Good morning, ladies,” Eliot called out, causing all five women to jerk their heads in his direction. He did cut a fine figure in his cargo pants and T-shirt, his shoulder-length hair billowing in the slight breeze. The way the sun struck him he looked like the guy from Outlander … and now I had a keen urge to get him naked like that guy almost always was on the show. Hmm. I wonder if Eliot would ever wear a kilt. Crap. Why do I have to go to work? We could christen the new house in style otherwise.
“Good morning.” Sarah straightened her shoulders and pushed out her chest. “We were just getting to know your … friend.”
Friend? Oh, geez. “They’re upset we’re not married,” I announced. I saw no reason to play nice. I didn’t have the energy and, quite frankly, I didn’t want to. I disliked them on sight, and didn’t care if that made me bitchy.
“I didn’t say that,” Sarah argued, her voice hopping as she turned back to Eliot. “I swear I didn’t say that. I was merely surprised that you weren’t married. This is a lot of house for a couple that hasn’t pledged to spend the rest of their lives together.”
“She’s also upset that I work,” I added.
“I was surprised you work,” Sarah said, her voice shrill. “That’s not the same thing. I’m a housewife, but I work. I oversee the running of the house, organize the maids and everything.”
Oh, whatever. “Speaking of maids, Eliot, when are we going to hire ours? I don’t want to clean that big house.”
“Soon,” Eliot replied. “After seeing how you shoved everything in random places while pretending to clean the little house, I don’t want you in charge of cleaning the big house either.”
Well, that was fairly insulting … and ridiculously pragmatic. “I’ll leave the hiring to you. Make sure they’re not hot – unless they’re men. You know what? That’s a good idea. Hire men.”
“No.” Eliot kept his smile in place but his eyes were leery as they bounced between faces. “So, you all live in this neighborhood?”
“We do,” Sarah confirmed, flashing Eliot a flirty smile. “We noticed you two have been moving boxes and wanted to meet Avery. We think she’ll make a great addition to the neighborhood.”
Okay, now she was just making stuff up.
“I think she’ll fit right in with you gals, too.” Eliot offered a charming wink and I swear I heard two members of Sarah’s suburban posse wistfully sigh.
“We should all have a neighborhood barbecue once you’re settled,” Sarah said. “I can play hostess. You can meet my husband. He’s a criminal lawyer, and very smart. He can get anyone off, especially if they’re guilty. I’m sure he can give you legal advice if you need it.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing as Eliot’s smile slipped. Sarah basically insinuated he looked like a criminal. She didn’t realize the way it sounded, but Eliot got the message.
“Yes, well, that could come in handy.” Eliot snagged the last box from my hands and inclined his head toward the house. “Avery, I have something to show you in the living room. Ladies, it’s been a pleasure.”
I managed to refrain from chuckling as I followed Eliot inside, waiting until I was sure the women were down the block before unleashing my glee. “Are you going to call her husband to get you out of jail?”
“Are you going to wear pants like that and get a Fitbit?”
As far as insults go, it was a good one. “Fine. I don’t want to argue. Truce?”
Eliot grinned. “Truce. Still … .”
“If you’re going to say something nasty, that’s the opposite of a truce,” I reminded him. “You won’t like it if I go to war with you.”
Eliot tilted his head to the side, considering. “Fine. I prefer the truce after last night.”
“Great.”
“Still … .”
I’ll have to kill him in his sleep. I just know it.
“You do have the same hair color and you would look smoking hot in those pants,” Eliot teased. “Maybe you should give up your job and become my sex slave?”
Oddly enough, the suggestion wasn’t without merit. “What did you want to show me?”
“That depends. Do you want to be my sex slave?”
His smile was impish – and I was dumbfounded he had the energy after the previous night – but I still had that Outlander image flitting through my mind. “I can be your sex slave on an hourly basis,” I replied, reaching for my shirt. “Which room do you want to start in?”
“And that right there is why I love you.”
“And don’t you forget it. By the way … how do you feel about kilts?”
ELIOT’S GOOD mood was back once we left the new house, so he bought me breakfast at the diner before heading to the pawnshop. He offered to let me write there if need be, but I had more important things on my mind.
I bought an iced green tea and picked a bench from which to watch the carnival. Even though it was early Friday, the midway was packed, and it was difficult to keep an eye on the workers. I’d yet to see Jess, but I couldn’t decide if that was good or bad.
I was lost in thought as I ran the investigation through my head. Jake sent a news release to the newspaper and Fish read it to me over the phone. It was light on details, but indicated the cops were “looking closely” at the Port Hope murder mentioned in one area news report but so far had been unable to link the two cases. That would be my news report, although they didn’t use my name. That was just as well. I’m unpopular in almost every area newsroom, including my own.
“How do you want me to handle this?” I asked, keeping my phone close to my ear as I watched the carnival. “Do you want me to focus on the race angle?”
“We’ve been discussing that,” Fish replied. “Some people are worried we’re going to be accused of race baiting. Others are worried that if we don’t focus on it we’re going to be accused of being racists and ignoring the fact that a potential serial killer is out there targeting black women.”
“It’s a tough situation. Do you want my opinion?”
“I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“I think we need to do a story on it and then talk to the black community leaders to see if they’re on alert. I think ignoring it is more dangerous than embracing it.”
“You might not say that when Jake reads the story,” Fish pointed out.
“If you give me permission to write the story I’ll interview Jake on that issue and he’ll know before tomorrow’s edition hits the stands.”
“Good point.” I could practically hear Fish thinking through the phone. “Do it, but don’t go crazy. Don’t allow any whacked-out comments in there. I don’t want to cause some sort of riot.”
“It’s not the sixties,” I reminded him. “I doubt that will happen.”
“Avery, this county still has a lot of race issues, “Fish reminded me. “I don’t want them inflamed.”
I doubted it was possible to keep that from happening, but kept that to myself. “I’ll email you the story as soon as possible. I have family dinner tonight. I’ll make sure you get it an hour before the end of your shift.”
“That would be helpful. Be careful. You’re bound to tick off both sides if you do this right.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” I disconnected and pocketed my phone, rolling my neck as I debated whether it would be better to approach Jake on his home turf or call him like a coward. I didn’t get a chance to do either.
“You’re looking happy this morning.” Jake smirked as he appeared at the side of the bench, striding from behind and settling next to me. He seemed happy and relaxed. Why shouldn’t he be? It was a normal day at the
Mount Clemens festival, after all. “Are you watching this Jess to see if he grabs a woman and kills her in the middle of the day?”
“I haven’t seen Jess yet,” I admitted, running my tongue over my teeth as I decided how to approach him. “I just got off the phone with Fish. He read me the release.”
“If you’re unhappy about not being named … .”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Well, you’re obviously unhappy about something,” Jake pointed out. “I can read the set of your shoulders. Whenever you’re thinking about something serious you hunch them. It’s not attractive.”
“Oh, you’ll make me cry.”
Jake smirked. “What’s your deal? You seem … off.”
I tapped my notebook against my knee, my foot jiggling as I shifted back and forth on the bench. “I’m fine. I met power walkers in the new subdivision today. One of the women is married to a lawyer. She offered free legal services to Eliot because she thought he looked like a criminal.”
Jake snorted. “That sounds fun.”
“Then I’m telling it wrong.”
Jake studied me a moment, his face unreadable. “Avery, tell me what’s wrong.”
I was stuck. We both knew it, only Jake didn’t understand why I was stuck, and I was terrified of broaching a subject neither one of us wanted to tackle.
“I need to get a comment from you,” I said finally, shifting my eyes to his. “It’s about Teyona Davidson’s death.”
Jake didn’t look happy, a chill passing through his eyes. “I sent out a release. That will be my only comment today.”
“So you’re not going to comment on the fact that both women were black?” I managed to grit out the question, but it was difficult. I didn’t miss the way Jake’s shoulders stiffened.
“Avery, you can’t go this route. It’s dangerous.”
“I don’t have a choice. If we ignore it, the black community will accuse us of not caring because the victims are black. If we take it too far in the other direction we’ll be accused of race baiting. We’re in a difficult position.”
Jake’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “And I’m not?”
I held my hands palms up. He was in a tough position. So was I. “We can’t ignore it. You know that as well as I do.”
Jake stood up from the bench, his hands clenched at his sides. “You’re going to do it no matter what, aren’t you?”
I nodded.
“Great!” Jake jerked a hand through his hair, leaving it messier than normal as he stared at something far away that apparently only he could see. “I’ll fax a statement on the situation to The Monitor this afternoon.”
“If you don’t, it will look worse for you if we have to print that you didn’t return calls seeking comment … and I will mercilessly call if I don’t get the statement by two.”
Jake scowled. “I said I would give you a statement. I have to run the statement through my aides before I do, though. That’s protocol on issues like this.”
“Race issues?”
“I’m not answering that … not on or off the record.” Jake looked glum as he rested his hands on his hips. “You’re going to turn this story into a national nightmare. Those talking heads on CNN and Headline News will be all over us. You know that, right?”
“That’s not my intention.” It really wasn’t. “I can’t ignore it, though. I’ve held off on going deep on this, but it has to be done. I’m out of options.”
“Well, then do it.” Jake took a step away from me. “I hope this doesn’t blow up in your face.”
“You’re not the only one.” I watched him go, guilt rolling through me. As if sensing a pair of eyes staring at me, I turned my attention to Eliot’s shop and found him watching me through the window. He looked as if he wanted to come to me but didn’t know if it was a good idea.
I lifted my hand and offered him a half-hearted wave – which he returned – and then turned my attention back to my notebook. Well, this story wasn’t going to write itself. It was time to get moving. If I was going to do it, I was going to do it right.
24
Twenty-Four
“You seem lost in thought.”
Eliot kept his eyes on the road as he drove through Oakland County even though he was tuned in to my mood. For my part, I focused on the blurring foliage at the edge of the road.
“You haven’t asked me about it yet,” I noted. “I know you saw me with Jake today.”
“He looked upset.”
“He was.”
“You looked upset, too.”
“I wasn’t upset because of something I did,” I clarified. “I’ve been good.”
Eliot chuckled, the sound low and throaty. “You’re upset because you upset Jake. I have a feeling I know why, but why don’t you tell me anyway.”
I sigh, resigned. I needed to talk to someone, and Eliot was my best option. It was better to get the conversation out of the way now. Once we were at the restaurant I wouldn’t be able to discuss it because Derrick’s pregnant baby mama also happened to be a television reporter for Channel 4. I didn’t want to tip her off.
“The story on the front page of The Monitor tomorrow is going to focus on the race of the two victims and how the black community feels,” I explained. “I talked to a few people visiting the carnival. They said they weren’t afraid, but that’s normal because a lot of people refuse to embrace fear no matter what.”
“They don’t believe it could happen to them.”
“Exactly.”
“I talked to other people who live on the far side of Gratiot, though, and they had a few other things to say about the situation.”
“They’re angry?”
“They’re furious and feel they’re being ignored by law enforcement.”
Eliot swallowed hard as he kept his eyes on the dense traffic. “Jake didn’t want you to chase the race angle?” He asked the question even though he knew the answer.
“It’s a powder keg in this area. Race issues have been explosive in Macomb County ever since I started at The Monitor. The county borders Detroit, but it may as well be on the other side of the Atlantic. I never realized how big of a deal it really was until I attended a water board meeting once. Yeah, a water board meeting.
“Detroit controls the water rates for the suburbs,” I continued. “The suburbs complain that Detroit is balancing their budget on the backs of water users in richer communities. The Detroit residents scream ‘white flight’ and say the suburban residents are trying to control them, rip them off. It’s a mess.”
“I know about race issues, Trouble. I’m not blind or deaf.”
I sent him a rueful smile. “Sorry. I was just trying to remind myself why it was so important.”
Eliot was quiet for a moment as we passed a minivan that boasted some bumper sticker about honor students at an area middle school. When he spoke, it was with gravitas and patience. “Jake understands that you have a job to do. While you quite possibly just made his job much harder, that doesn’t mean he’s angry with you.”
“He wasn’t happy with me this afternoon.”
“He was angry with the situation, not you.”
“No, I’m pretty sure it was me.”
Eliot groaned as he rubbed his cheek. “Sometimes talking to you is like talking to a wall. You know that, right?”
I shrugged. “I’m feeling sorry for myself. If you think I don’t know that, I do. I can’t help myself sometimes. By the way, we cannot talk about this at the restaurant. We need to keep it quiet.”
“Because of Devon?”
I nodded. “There’s no way Jake will send out statements to every news organization. He doesn’t want to deal with a huge issue yet,” I replied. “That means I will be the only one with the story tomorrow.”
“What about Derrick? He could tell Devon.”
“Jake will order him not to.”
“And that will put Derrick in a bad position,” Eliot mused. “You’re going to sc
oop her twice in one week and she’s going to take out her wrath on him.”
“I can’t worry about that.”
“You’ll enjoy it, though.” Eliot’s eyes twinkled as he poked my side in an effort to cajole a smile out of me. “Don’t bother denying it. The fact that you’re sticking it to Devon makes you happy.”
I couldn’t deny it. Derrick’s insistence on dating that idiot drove me crazy. Now that he’d knocked her up I was sure that she’d be part of our lives forever. I had to get my jollies where I could at this point. “Does that make you think less of me?”
“I love you regardless.”
“Are you being sweet because you think I’m depressed?”
Eliot smirked. “Maybe.”
“I’m not depressed,” I clarified. “I’m simply contemplating my place in the universe.”
“Oh, well, here we go. Where is your place in the universe? Is it power walking with your new friends?”
“Not hardly.”
“I’m going to get you a Fitbit for Christmas this year.”
“And I’ll get you a kick in the behind.”
Eliot snorted as the tension in the vehicle alleviated. “Jake will get over this. He always does. He knows you would never purposely hurt him. It’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.” I reached over and rested my hand on Eliot’s knee. We had other serious issues to discuss. “Now, when we get to the restaurant, don’t tell anyone our new address. They’ve been digging for information for weeks because they want to swim in our pool.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t want those people in our pool.”
“Those people are your relatives,” Eliot pointed out.
“I’m only taking credit for the ones I like, and that list is short,” I said. “There are some irregular cousins that no one wants to take credit for, least of all their parents. Hell, isn’t it bad enough that some of these people are in my gene pool? Trust me. Let me handle all questions about our house, okay?”
Off the Record (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 10) Page 22