[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater

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[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater Page 12

by Amanda M. Lee


  “I forgot about that, and I’m kind of sorry I did,” Fish said. “I would’ve brought it up during the discussion. They caught me off guard and I couldn’t remember any regular conferences with them that didn’t revolve around those drunken driving crackdowns they do.”

  “I’m going to punch Inspector Fraser in his teeny-tiny ’nads.”

  “Why don’t you try not to get arrested,” Fish suggested, heaving out a sigh. “I don’t know what to tell you. If the state police aren’t going to share information, there’s not much we can do to force them.”

  Did he just meet me? I didn’t believe that for a second. “Oh, I’m going to force them to share information,” I muttered, rubbing my chin as my evil mind clicked into high gear. “I’m going to force them to wish I’d never been born.”

  “I don’t think that threat is anywhere near as terrifying as you think it is.”

  “Fine,” I growled. “I’m going to force them to wish they’d never been born … and that they’d never met me. They’re going to rue the day they messed with Avery Shaw!”

  I meant it as a dramatic pronouncement, but Fish merely looked bored. “Keep me updated on what you have planned and if you uncover anything. I’m sure you have the story well in hand.”

  “That didn’t sound even remotely believable,” I muttered. “You need to work on your lying skills.”

  “I’ll take a class or something.”

  “That would be best for all of us.”

  BECAUSE MY INITIAL plan wouldn’t work I decided to head to the sheriff’s department. I understood that Jake couldn’t share information on the record. That didn’t mean he couldn’t point me in the right direction off the record. I was at a loss for what else to do.

  I found two of my least favorite deputies behind the bubble – Dan Archer and Melody Frankel – and the looks they graced me with upon my approach were nothing short of irritating.

  “What are you doing here?” Archer asked, leaning back in his chair as he stared at me through the thick bulletproof glass. “We don’t have anything on the books today that would require your attention.”

  “I guess that means I’m here to see you,” I supplied. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

  “That’s not the word I’d use,” Archer drawled.

  “Me either.” Frankel’s expression was goofy enough that I would’ve laughed under different circumstances. That wasn’t really an option today. “I don’t believe we have anything of interest today, Ms. Shaw. I’m sorry we can’t be of any help.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t even told you why I’m here.”

  “And yet I’m positive we don’t have anything for you.” Frankel adopted a faux-sugary voice that was annoying enough to give me tooth decay. “I’m sorry we can’t be of any help. Please have a nice day.”

  I pressed the tip of my tongue against the back of my teeth as I debated how to proceed. Finally, I opted for the mature approach. I dug in my pocket until I came up with my cell phone and dialed Derrick’s direct number. He picked up on the second ring.

  “If you’ve done anything stupid and ended up in jail, you need to use your one phone call and find someone else.” Derrick didn’t bother with a standard greeting, which I admired.

  “I’m in the lobby. Your two trained monkeys won’t buzz me through,” I said, never moving my gaze from Frankel’s challenging stare. “I need to talk to you.”

  Derrick was only mildly intrigued by my tone. “We don’t have any news conferences today.”

  “I know. The state police department doesn’t either.”

  “I heard about that.” Derrick sounded amused. “That must be driving you crazy.”

  “Right now the only thing driving me crazy is the pair of idiots in the bubble,” I shot back. “You need to come up here and get me.”

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s in my best interests.” Derrick’s sense of humor – or lack thereof, for that matter – rears its ugly head at the oddest of times. “You’re not covering our case. Why should we have to put up with you?”

  Frankel and Archer couldn’t hear Derrick’s end of the conversation, but they could obviously tell things weren’t going well for me because their smirks grew to unbearable sizes.

  “Would you like me to escort you out?” Frankel asked.

  I ignored her haughty tone and focused on Derrick. “I’ll tell Devon that you feel trapped into getting married if you don’t let me in.”

  Derrick was used to being blackmailed by me, so he didn’t even balk. “Go ahead. She won’t believe you. She knows you’re mean and nasty.”

  Crap. He had a point. Devon hated me on principle. I understood the emotion. I disliked her for the same reason. That didn’t mean I was about to turn around and concede defeat.

  “Fine.” I blew out a dramatic sigh. “I will keep the information Inspector Fraser dropped on Eliot and me last night when he showed up to confirm our alibis to myself. It’s too bad, because I wanted to get Jake’s take on it.

  “Still, I’m sure he’ll be fine with the fact that you kept me away from him when I have information you don’t,” I continued. “I’ll bet that won’t agitate him at all when I tell him … and we both know I’m going to tell him.”

  Derrick was silent for a long beat. The second he growled I knew I’d won. “I’m on my way.”

  “I figured.” I disconnected and fixed Frankel and Archer with the snarkiest look in my repertoire. “He’s on his way up.”

  “How nice for you,” Archer drawled. He didn’t look especially bothered. I could fix that.

  “Yeah, they’re upset because I have important information about the dead woman at the aquarium – which is especially important to Sheriff Farrell for obvious reasons – and they almost lost out on hearing it.” That was a lie, but Archer and Frankel didn’t need to know that. “There was swearing in the background and everything. Jake, who just happened to be in Derrick’s office when I called, mentioned something about shifting duties.”

  I was happy to see that Archer’s face drained of color while Frankel shifted on her chair.

  “We didn’t know anything about that,” Archer argued.

  “That’s not what I’m going to tell Jake when he asks.” I flounced away with a self-satisfied smirk on my face, shifting my expression to something akin to overt challenge as I skirted around Derrick and walked into the locked inner sanctum behind the coded door. I spared a sidelong glance for Derrick as he fell into step with me. “I’m not happy with you right now.”

  “I guess that’s supposed to upset me, but it really doesn’t,” Derrick said. “I thought that since the state police were handling this one we’d be able to cut down on your frequent visits. I guess I was wrong.”

  I’d been to the sheriff’s department enough times to know the way to Derrick’s office. That’s where I headed, not speaking again until I was inside and we were both seated. “So, I have a number of things to tell you.”

  “I’m almost dreading hearing this,” Derrick admitted. “If you think it’s important enough to waste time coming here it must be bad.”

  “Oh, it’s bad. First, your sister showed up in my pool with her new boyfriend last night. They weren’t invited. His name is Jalen and his eyes were so red I’m pretty sure he smoked at least an ounce of pot himself before coming over.

  “Now, I’m not a pot hater,” I continued. “I actually like pot, for the most part. If you have an ounce of it, though, that puts you in dealer territory. Smoking is good, selling is bad. I think we can agree on that.”

  Derrick shot me a dark look. “I’m a sheriff’s deputy,” he reminded me. “Smoking and selling are equally bad.”

  “Oh, please. Now you’re just making stuff up.” I shifted on the chair, crossing one leg over the other. “On a side note, Grandpa was in my pool this morning when I went outside.”

  “He stopped by for a visit?” Derrick furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound normal but … I guess that�
�s okay.”

  “He was naked.”

  “Ah, there it is.” Derrick bobbed his dark head. “I knew there was a catch. Have you considered calling the police to report him?”

  “That seems kind of mean to do to my own grandfather.”

  “It’s your call, but he’ll keep showing up unless you dissuade him,” Derrick said. “He gets off on stuff like that.”

  Derrick wasn’t wrong. I filed the suggestion away to consider at a later time. “How is Jake?”

  “He’s a bear,” Derrick answered without hesitation. “He spends all of his time yelling at people and writing them up.”

  I internally smirked. No wonder Archer and Frankel looked so worked up when I dropped my threat on them. Good. They deserved it. “Has he talked to Inspector Fraser again?”

  “He hasn’t said a lot about that but I know he’s been on the phone with Fraser a few times,” Derrick answered. “He told Fraser that not holding a press conference would work against him – especially with you – but Jake is convinced Fraser wants to take you on.”

  I’d pretty much come to that conclusion myself. “If that’s what he wants, that’s what he’s going to get.”

  “You said he showed up at your house last night,” Derrick noted. “Was Lexie there when it happened? I would hate for her to get caught up in this.”

  “Especially because her current boyfriend is a dealer who talks about himself in the third person – which I really hate,” I said. “As far as I know, unless Fraser was watching the house beforehand, he didn’t see Lexie. He didn’t mention her.”

  “That’s good. What did he say?”

  “He said that Cara was strangled before hitting the water, but she didn’t die from that,” I replied, seeing no reason to lie. “He said she was unconscious in the water and drowned.”

  “He told you more than he told Jake,” Derrick supplied. “I don’t think he’s given Jake a cause of death yet. He simply said the coroner ruled it a homicide.”

  “Which means he told me on purpose because he’s playing both sides against one another,” I deduced. “He wants to know if I’ll tell Jake what he told me.”

  “Pretty much.”

  I rolled my neck until it cracked, absently scratching along my hairline. “He also called Grandpa in for an interview. Grandpa claims that’s why he showed up in my pool this morning. I think it was a mixture of two things – wanting to be gross so he can shock the neighbors and tell us what was going on at the same time – but Eliot encouraged him to mess with Fraser.”

  Derrick widened his eyes to comical proportions. “Do you think that’s wise? You know darned well why he’s questioning Grandpa. He wants dirt on you and Jake.”

  “To what end? Grandpa doesn’t have anything other than childhood dirt on Jake and me.”

  “That doesn’t mean that Fraser won’t use it to his advantage.”

  “Probably not,” I conceded. “Either way, nothing Grandpa says to Fraser can hurt me. I didn’t kill Cara. Jake didn’t either. We need to find out who did, but Grandpa isn’t going to be part of the solution. All he’s going to do is wind up Fraser.”

  “And you want that?”

  I held my hands palms up. “I don’t see what it can hurt.” I pushed myself to a standing position. “I need to get moving. I want to do some digging on Cara’s family and her past. Tell Jake what I said.”

  “I will. Thanks for coming by.”

  “Also tell Jake that Archer and Frankel are working against him and should be punished accordingly,” I added, causing Derrick to snort.

  “I’ll consider it, but only because I don’t like them either,” Derrick said. “As for you, be careful. Whoever did this wants to set up Jake, and maybe you in the process. If he or she thinks you’re getting too close … .”

  “I’ll be fine.” I waved off his concern. “I know what I’m doing.”

  “You always say that, but I’m rarely convinced it’s true.”

  “I swear that I’ll be fine.” I forced a smile. “Take care of Jake. I have a feeling this is going to be a long slog.”

  “I have a feeling you’re right.”

  “When are you people going to realize that I’m always right?”

  13 Thirteen

  Once fun time at the sheriff’s department was done I drove to Cara’s house. I never had occasion to visit – for obvious reasons – but it wasn’t hard to dig up her address. I didn’t even have to barter sexual favors with Eliot to do it. I was a little disappointed about that, but Google came through on the first try. Ah, well, maybe I would barter the sexual favors anyway.

  I parked on the street, giving the nondescript Clinton Township neighborhood a long study while remaining in my car. It was one of those subdivisions where all of the houses resemble one another, no variation in color or design. Everything looked to be standard ranch houses with attached garages and boring landscaping.

  I grabbed my notebook from the passenger seat and exited the car, my attention drifting to the house next door. A woman, shoulder-length blond hair meshing well with bland khakis and a cardigan, stood in the driveway and stared at Cara’s house. She looked lost in thought. I didn’t have many options, so I approached her.

  The woman didn’t notice me until I was almost on top of her. When she did register my presence her disdain for my outfit was obvious. I probably should’ve thought better before wearing my Darth Vader “Free Throat Hugs” T-shirt.

  “Can I help you?”

  I pasted my best “I’m trustworthy and I’m doing you a favor by stopping to talk” smile on my face. “My name is Avery Shaw.”

  I didn’t get a chance to dive into the rest of my spiel because her face lit with recognition. “You’re the reporter for The Monitor who is always on the news, aren’t you?”

  I wasn’t thrilled about that being my claim to fame, but I wasn’t about to bypass the possibility of using my unwanted notoriety to get information. “That’s me.” I kept my smile in place. “I’m here to ask questions about Cara Carpenter.”

  The woman’s smile faded a bit, but her enthusiasm remained. “Yes, what happened to her was tragic. I saw it on the news.”

  “Did you know her well?”

  “I knew her well enough to chat now and then.” The woman’s countenance shifted. “Wait … are you going to put me in the newspaper?”

  She seemed excited by the prospect, so I opted not to deny her. I clicked my pen and offered an expectant smile. “And what’s your name?”

  “Shelby Harris.”

  “Is it spelled just like it sounds?”

  Shelby bobbed her head. “This is so exciting! I’ve never been in the newspaper.”

  “Everyone should be able to list that on their résumé,” I acknowledged. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Five years.”

  “What about Cara?”

  “She moved in about two years ago,” Shelby supplied. “I remember being excited until I saw her.”

  “Why? Was she wearing something embarrassing when you saw her? She strikes me as the boy band type. She wore a One Direction shirt, didn’t she?”

  Shelby’s expression was blank enough to tell me I was barking up the wrong gossip tree. “No, it’s just that she was really pretty. It’s not that I only like ugly people, of course. I like pretty people. I’m pretty.” She pirouetted to prove her point.

  “Very pretty,” I acknowledged, tamping down my irritation.

  “I like pretty people and I’m not jealous at all – and if that b-i-t-c-h down the street Zelda Washington says differently that’s because she’s jealous of me. But I wasn’t thrilled to see Cara because it’s been my experience that pretty people are unbearable to be around.”

  “Except for you,” I prodded.

  “Exactly.” Shelby bobbed her head. “You must be so thankful that you have thick thighs, because that means you don’t have to be lumped into that group.”

  I glanced down at my thighs and frowned. �
�Um … back to Cara.” I kind of wanted to punch Shelby in the face, but she was the type of woman who gossiped first and thought better about it later. I could use that to my advantage. “Did you spend any time with her?”

  “I did, but only after I made sure she didn’t think she was the prettiest one on the street,” Shelby replied. “I’m all for self-esteem as long as it doesn’t overlap into delusion. Cara didn’t think she was prettier than me. Er, well, if she did, she didn’t say anything.”

  “That’s definitely important, and I’m glad she wasn’t delusional.” I was starting to think that Cara was the stable presence on the block. How freaky is that? “What did you talk about?”

  “Most of the time it was work,” Shelby supplied. “You know what Cara did for a living, right?”

  I racked my brain. Did I know that? She told me what she did the first night we met, but it was so boring I tuned it out. “I think … she was a party planner, right?” I remember making bad jokes about spiked punch to her once. She didn’t take it well. “She arranged parties.”

  “She did,” Shelby confirmed. “Isn’t that a great job?”

  That sounded like pure hell to me, but now wasn’t the time to admit that. “Sure. Did she talk to you about her relationship with Sheriff Farrell?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Shelby’s expression turned dark. “You would’ve thought she discovered a mascara that really was waterproof and didn’t run by the way she strutted around once she started dating him. She used his status as sheriff as a stepping stone.”

  “A stepping stone to what?”

  “You know.”

  I honestly had no idea. “Did dating Jake make her more popular on the party circuit?”

  Shelby stared at me as if I’d grown another head – and this one had its own set of fat thighs. “Sheriff Farrell is the most sought-after bachelor in Macomb County. Everyone knows that.”

  “I must’ve missed the memo.”

  “Really? You’re on the memo.” Shelby was matter-of-fact. “Everyone wants to snag Jake Farrell, but you’re one of the ruts in the road along the way.”

 

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