“I think so, too.” I moved toward the door. “Have a nice day.”
Haugh’s smile didn’t waver, but it didn’t make it to his eyes. “You, too. We really must do this again some time.”
“I can’t wait.”
17 Seventeen
My conversation with Haugh left me unsettled, and for more than one reason.
My first concern was the fact that he appeared surprised upon hearing Cara was murdered. He was a good actor, so the emotion storming his eyes could’ve easily been faked. Still, pretending he hadn’t watched the news and therefore had no idea Cara’s death wasn’t accidental couldn’t possibly benefit him in any manner I recognized. If he was guilty, he’d already know she was murdered. If he was innocent, there would be no reason to put on a show.
It was all very odd.
My second concern was Haugh’s absolute lack of interest in Cara’s death. He’d been dating her, but didn’t seem to care that the woman he was sleeping with was no longer among us. In fact, he seemed more annoyed that Cara’s death brought me to his doorstep. She was an inconvenience, which was a rotten way to be remembered. I clearly wasn’t Cara’s biggest fan, but she deserved more than that.
My third problem was the fact that Haugh was a slimy devil who actually managed to hit on me during an interview regarding his dead girlfriend – who’d been dead for less than three days. He was a disgusting pig, and I totally wanted to jam a firecracker up his behind and light it so I could watch the fireworks up close and personal.
My thoughts were busy and I needed someone to bounce ideas off. On a normal day I’d go to Eliot, tell him what happened and calm myself by watching him melt down and say nasty things about someone I didn’t like. But because I was furious with Eliot, that didn’t seem like an option.
Sadly, because it was a weekday, I didn’t have many other options. Derrick was at work and wouldn’t care that my Avery-sense (much like Spidey-sense) went off the second I locked gazes with Haugh. My best friend Carly was not only pregnant, but at work. She’d taken to warning me whenever I swore or complained in front of her stomach, and this was definitely going to be a four-letter extravaganza. That left Lexie, who owned a yoga studio and was spending time with an annoying guy who invited himself into my pool while speaking about himself in the third person.
None of those options held any appeal whatsoever.
That brought me back to Eliot.
I parked in front of his store, taking a moment to tamp down my irritation as I gathered my thoughts. I needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to me. I needed someone I trusted to tell me if I was overreacting about Haugh. More importantly, I needed someone with Eliot’s skills to conduct an in-depth search on Haugh.
I had no other options, so I tugged on my courage, kicked my pride in the shins to hobble it, and climbed out of the car. There was no sense putting things off. If I played my cards right, maybe I could force Eliot to change his mind regarding telling Jake about the stolen file on top of sweet talking him into conducting a search on Haugh. It was a tall order, but I was willing to give it a shot.
Eliot wasn’t in the front of his store when I entered, but his resident bimbo employee Fawn – no, that’s really her name – looked up when I entered. The initial smile on her face evaporated when she caught sight of me.
“What do you want?”
As far as greetings go, it was pretty much what I expected from her. That’s not saying much, but … well, we don’t like one another. “Well, I thought I would start with world peace, move on to blueberry cheesecake-flavored ice cream and end with the banning of fake boobs – this will be a downer for you, but I have no doubt you’ll rise above.”
Fawn’s expression was blank. “What?”
“You asked what I wanted.”
“I know, but I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Oh, that was almost witty,” I drawled, resting my elbows on the front counter and flicking my eyes to the closed door that led to Eliot’s office. “Is he in there?”
Fawn followed my gaze. “Who?”
She’s so dumb. She clearly stumbled into the fairly witty insult completely by accident. “Well, I came in Eliot’s pawnshop and I’m looking at Eliot’s office … .” I waited for her to come up with the answer herself.
“And?”
Cripes. Now she was just messing with me. There was no other explanation. “Eliot! Is Eliot in his office? I need to talk to him.”
“Oh. I’m not supposed to answer that question.”
“You’re not supposed to answer that question?”
“That’s what I said.”
Okay, now she wanted me to kick her in the implants. “Why aren’t you supposed to answer that question?”
“Because Eliot said I should never tell people where he’s at when he’s working a job,” Fawn replied without hesitation. “I’m supposed to direct anyone asking for him to take a seat in the corner over there and then contact him. He’ll decide what to do about the visitors.”
“Yes, but I’m fairly certain that he didn’t mean for that rule to apply to me.”
“A rule is a rule.” Fawn was abnormally chipper as she flashed an evil smile. “He would’ve told me if there were any exceptions.”
I so didn’t have time for her. “Whatever.” I blew out a sigh as I crossed behind the counter, doing my best to ignore the fact that Fawn was heading in my direction. If she wanted to pick a fight I was more than willing to pull some hair. I knew I could beat her without breaking a sweat.
I threw open the door and frowned at Eliot’s empty desk. I expected to find him sitting there, perhaps scowling and cursing my name – while crying and staring at a photograph of me because he loved me beyond reason. What? That’s entirely plausible. Whenever I pictured him over the course of the morning, it involved moping around his shop. His empty office seemed to indicate he wasn’t moping at all.
“What the … ?”
“You’re in big trouble!” Fawn’s cheeks flushed with color. “That’s a violation. I mean … that’s against the law. You could get arrested for that.”
If I wasn’t already annoyed beyond belief with her I would have shoved her in the office, locked the door and timed her to see how long it took her to either die of starvation or find her way out. I had other things to deal with, though. “Where is Eliot?”
“I’m not telling you.” Fawn was obstinate as she crossed her arms over her manmade chest. “If he hasn’t told you what he’s doing, that’s probably because he doesn’t want you to know. Have you considered the fact that maybe he’s trying to put distance between the two of you?”
“I’ve considered the fact that I want to punch you in the face,” I shot back. “Where is he?”
“He’s at work.”
“He works here.”
“Not all the time.” Fawn jutted out her lower lip as her eyes turned glassy. “I’m going to tell him you were mean to me. He’ll punish you.”
“Oh, he’s already punished me,” I muttered. “That’s the only reason he keeps you on the payroll.”
“I think he does it because he likes me.”
“And that makes you dumber than you look … which is pretty difficult, quite frankly.” I rolled my neck and heaved a sigh. “I didn’t know he had any other security work this week. As far as I knew he only had the aquarium, which he got last minute.”
Things slipped into place. “He’s at the aquarium.”
Fawn instantly started shaking her head. “He’s not. But wherever he is, he clearly doesn’t want to see you.”
I was already moving on from our altercation, so all I could do was muster a wave as I headed toward the door. “If you want to call to warn him, tell him I’ll be there in twenty minutes … and I’m bringing doughnuts.”
I HAD A LIE ready when I hit the aquarium, bakery box in hand – I wasn’t lying about the doughnuts – but no one so much as questioned me as I walked through the front door and made my way into
the dark tunnels.
I found Eliot relatively quickly. He was in the stingray pond room, which was completely clean and sterile. He sat on the floor, some sort of tool in his hand, and worked on a camera. He glanced up as I entered, but didn’t flash the flirty smile I’d come to love.
“Did your girlfriend call and tell you I was coming?” I sat next to him, resting the box on my knee.
Eliot posed his own question rather than answering. “What kind of doughnuts did you bring me?”
“I brought a selection. I figured you could eat what you want and then share the rest with your manly co-workers. I saw a few of them when I walked into the building. The security is still a bit lax, by the way, but I’m sure you’ll whip it into shape.”
“I told the guys to open the front door and let you in,” Eliot said, grabbing the box. “I figured you might be in a mood. I didn’t want to risk them getting in your face in case you bit them or something.”
“I would never bite them. They’re not doughnuts.” I grabbed one of the chocolate-covered cake doughnuts and split it in half as I debated how to proceed. I thought I had everything planned out before I pulled into the parking lot, but now I was strangely nervous. “Can I ask you something?”
Eliot selected a custard-flavored long john and shrugged. “I guess.”
“Did you tell your office bimbo not to tell me where you were?”
Eliot actually looked amused when I risked a look in his direction. “No. I told her to tell you where I was if you called. I didn’t expect you to stop in. She claims that’s the part of your interaction that threw her off.”
“The only part of our interaction that threw her off is the part where you’re with me instead of her.” I knew I sounded jealous, but I didn’t really care. “You are still with me, right?”
Eliot snorted. “Isn’t that why you brought me doughnuts?”
“I brought you doughnuts because I wanted one myself, and I thought it would be rude not to share.”
“Oh, and I thought they were a peace offering.”
“I only hand out peace offerings when I’m in the wrong,” I said. “I’m not in the wrong this time.”
Eliot cocked a questioning eyebrow. “And you think I am?”
“I think … you believe you’re right.” That was the best I could muster. “I simply know you’re wrong.”
“Ah.” Eliot bit into his doughnut, swallowing before turning his full attention on me. “How did your interview with the lawyer go?”
“Not well.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I think there’s something smarmy about him.” I launched into my tale, and when I was done Eliot looked as dumbfounded as I felt. “So I think there’s something up with him.”
“Wow. You really went out on a limb there, didn’t you?” Eliot looked disgusted as he shook his head. “I can’t believe he hit on you.”
“You would focus on that part,” I muttered.
Eliot held up his hands in a conciliatory manner. “I’m sorry. That’s hardly the worst thing you told me. Still, it makes me sick.”
“Hey!”
“Not that part.” Eliot cracked a smile, causing a bit of the weight bearing down on my shoulders to ease. “He would have to be an idiot not to think you’re awesome. It’s the part where his girlfriend hasn’t been dead a full three days that bothers me.”
“Yeah, well, I got the feeling that he didn’t date anyone long enough to call them a girlfriend. His secretary is this wide-eyed moonbeam who looks at him as if he walks on water and secretly masquerades as a superhero after dark. She thinks he’s a hero, but I think there’s something wrong with his personality.”
“I think that we can both agree on that. And I’ve only been around him for five minutes.” Eliot tossed the last bit of long john into his mouth and licked his fingers as he finished. “You want me to run a background check on him, don’t you?”
I considered lying. I could maneuver out of the situation if I really wanted to, and yet … there was no point. I needed him to do me a solid, but he wasn’t going to agree if I didn’t give a little bit. “Yes.”
Eliot ran his tongue over his teeth as he regarded me. “Wow.”
His steady gaze made me feel self-conscious. I tugged at the collar of my shirt to allow some of the frigid air conditioning to circulate. “If you’re about to say no … .”
Eliot slapped his hand over my mouth to quiet me. “Don’t say something that’s going to erase the warm feeling I have where you’re concerned right now.”
I merely blinked as I locked gazes with him, debating the merits of biting him as a manner of punishment.
“I said ‘wow’ because you actually answered my question without trying to manipulate me, even though we’re in the middle of a fight,” Eliot said. “It was a compliment.”
Oh, well, that was only half as mortifying as I expected. I arched an eyebrow and pointed at his hand, waiting until he removed it from my mouth to speak. “I’m trying to be an adult.”
“I can see that. I’m proud of you.”
His patronizing tone set my teeth on edge. “Never mind.” I moved to push myself to a standing position, but he grabbed me around the waist and tugged me back to the floor. “Stop it!”
“You stop it,” Eliot shot back. “I wasn’t talking down to you. I meant it.”
“You did?”
“We’re terrible communicators sometimes, but yes. I wasn’t making fun of you.”
“Oh.” That was so sweet it almost didn’t compute. “Does that mean you’ll run the search for me?”
“I’ll definitely run the search for you,” Eliot confirmed. “I don’t like the guy. I think he’s potentially dangerous. All you had to do was ask.”
“I did.”
“No, you let me figure it out and then confirmed that’s what you wanted,” Eliot countered. “Still, you were marginally pleasant while doing it, so I’m considering it a win.”
“Great.” His response made me feel better. Even though we were mid-fight I knew things would ultimately be okay … if I didn’t go to prison for breaking and entering, that is. “Can I have Cara’s file back?”
I have no idea what possessed me to ask in that manner, but the question was out of my mouth before I thought better of it. For his part, Eliot looked dumbfounded at the conversational shift.
“And I should’ve expected that, too.” Eliot wiped his hands together to dislodge the crumbs and got to his feet. “I need to get back to work.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Eliot leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of my head, causing the tips of my ears to burn at the earnest sentiment. Then he ruined everything by speaking. “No.”
“But … .”
“No,” Eliot repeated. “I’m not backing down on this. If you want to continue fighting about that, we’ll do it when we get home tonight.”
That sounded downright terrible. “Eliot, I don’t think you understand the serious nature of this situation.”
“I understand. I simply think you’re looking at it the wrong way.”
And just like that we were back to being at war.
“Now, I have to get back to work,” Eliot supplied. “If you need something or stumble across imminent danger, you know where to find me.”
I did know where to find him. He was in the middle of creating a very large pain in my backside. “This isn’t over. I’m going to make you pay for this.”
“I would expect nothing less.”
18 Eighteen
“I didn’t get much today, but I filed a new piece and tossed in everything I had.”
I stood next to Fish’s desk, resting my hands on the walls of his cubicle, waiting for him to pat me on the head and send me away. Instead he merely nodded.
“Okay. I’m sure you got more than everybody else.”
That wasn’t much of a pep talk. “No one has anything because the state police are hoarding information
and refuse to return phone calls.”
“I believe that’s what I said.” Fish kept his eyes on his computer screen, a clear sign that I should vacate the area. I was in enough of a mood that I felt the need to poke someone … and he was the only one handy.
“Don’t you want to read my article?”
“I’ll get to it before I leave for the day.”
I flicked my eyes to the wall clock. I still had twenty minutes on my shift, but I wanted to leave early. That couldn’t happen unless Fish okayed it. I had two choices: I could ask him for permission to leave or attempt to manipulate him. It was a difficult choice, but my patience threshold was pretty short today. “Can I go?”
“Is it six?”
“No.”
“Then you can’t go.”
What is it with people trying to mess with me today? “I don’t understand why you’re on this new clock-watching trip,” I argued. “What do you get out of it? Do you get off on the torture or something?”
“It’s a productivity exercise,” Fish replied. “I learned about it at a company leadership seminar last month and decided to implement it.”
Well, that explained that. Fish always learned boneheaded things whenever he attended those navel-gazing exercises. “Is it making us more productive?”
“It’s making some people more productive.”
“Which people?”
“The good workers.”
That was an extremely vague answer. “I want names,” I said, lowering my voice. “I want to see the freaks this lame productivity exercise works on.”
As if on cue, Duncan popped up behind Fish’s chair and flashed an egocentric smile that even the dimmest mother on the planet couldn’t love. “I did five extra briefs and laid out an entire special section for the weekend.”
Oh, well, of course.
“Thank you, Duncan.” The smile Fish graced me with was grating enough to have me checking between my toes for pointy rocks. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”
“I know.” Duncan wrinkled his nose when I scorched him with a dark look. “I want to pick up the slack for my lazy co-workers. I’m a team player, after all. I want to be a productive role model, not a frigid hag.”
[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater Page 16