[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I think you’re looking too hard,” Jake argued. “Sometimes the easy answer is the correct answer. I’m in law enforcement. I should know. Just because you’d be a masterful criminal, that doesn’t mean the rest of the populace thinks that way.”

  “Thank the Force,” Eliot muttered, causing me to smirk because he used one of my favorite exclamations.

  “It still doesn’t feel right,” I argued. “He’s been funneling money away for two years now. He’s been getting away with it because he’s either a really good liar or because he’s really good at covering his tracks. That doesn’t jibe with a guy who wouldn’t at least try to put on a brave face regarding his girlfriend’s murder for my benefit.”

  “I still think you’re stretching,” Jake said.

  “And I think she’s right,” Grandpa said. “She’s good at reading people. She always has been. Back when she was a kid, I had a waitress skimming tips. Avery knew who it was right away.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Eliot cocked an eyebrow. “How did you know?”

  “Because she was the one who went out of her way to be my best friend,” I replied. “She knew I sensed something odd about her and tried too hard to make me think differently. That only made me more suspicious.”

  “My little genius,” Eliot teased, ruffling my hair. “As for your feelings on Haugh, I’m torn. A guy like that would be a better liar. But I’m guessing he has a big ego. He probably thought a lowly reporter wouldn’t be able to outthink him.”

  “Lowly reporter?”

  “I don’t believe that. I was merely looking at things from his point of view,” Eliot said. “I think reporters are all geniuses and I have the smartest one of all.”

  “Nice save.” Jake flashed an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need you to placate me. I’m not saying Haugh isn’t involved. I can’t say that I believe it’s him either. I just don’t know.”

  “So, what are your options?” Grandpa asked, genuinely curious.

  “We try to figure out who Cara actually approached with her blackmail files,” Jake answered. “That helps us thin the list. After that? I honestly don’t know. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re missing a very big piece of the puzzle.”

  “What about that inspector?” Grandpa asked. “He was kind of intense when he questioned me, but I didn’t give him anything but grief.”

  “You get that from him, too,” Eliot teased, poking my side. “As for Fraser, I haven’t heard from him in days. I’m hoping that means he’s moved on.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Jake said. “I don’t think he wants to look away from us. I especially don’t think he wants to look away from me. Taking down a sheriff would be a nice point on his résumé.”

  “He doesn’t worry me,” I said. “I think he’s a big putz, and we’re going to solve this thing right under his nose.”

  “I like your stance,” Grandpa said. “Still, I wouldn’t completely overlook him.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s trying to let himself through that gate over there right now.” Grandpa pointed for emphasis, causing me to swivel.

  “Oh, man.” I let loose with a hefty groan. “And here I thought this was going to be a good morning.”

  25 Twenty-Five

  Fraser’s sudden arrival filled me with myriad feelings I had trouble putting names to. One was surprise, but I could live with that. Another was suspicion, but because I’m suspicious of everybody it wasn’t difficult to gloss over that. Ultimately, though, it was the dread sitting in the center of my stomach that ruled my emotions.

  Fraser was here. He was at our house. That meant he wanted something. But … what?

  “Good morning.” Fraser pasted a pleasant smile on his face as he slipped through the gate, his eyes bouncing between faces. It was clear that our current grouping confused him. “You guys are up early, huh?”

  “We’re early risers,” Eliot said, capturing my hand and gripping it tightly as he stared at Fraser. “You must be an early riser, too.”

  “I certainly am.” Fraser nodded. “There’s nothing better than being up before the sun.”

  I could think of about fifteen million things better than being up with the sun, but I opted not to start listing them. “Would you like some coffee?” The question was meant to be welcoming, but I really had ulterior motives. All of the files we stole from Cara’s house the night before were sitting on the living room carpet. I needed to stash them somewhere in case Fraser decided he needed to use the bathroom. Getting him coffee would be a welcome distraction.

  “That sounds nice.” Fraser smiled at me. “I take it black.”

  “Great.” I moved to push myself to a standing position, but Grandpa stopped me with a hand on my shoulder as he stood. I looked to him, confused, and scowled when I realized he hadn’t bothered to tie the robe shut. “Seriously?”

  Grandpa ignored my irritation. “I’ll get your coffee.”

  Fraser’s eyes were pointed in the direction of the open robe. “Um … sure. That sounds great.”

  That sounded like a terrible idea to me. Grandpa was likely to lick the lip of Fraser’s mug – which I was fine with, by the way – but he was unlikely to clean up the mess we made in the living room. “It’s my house. I’ll do it.”

  “Since when do you care about being domestic?” Grandpa challenged. “I want to change into something more comfortable anyway. I’ll handle everything inside.” His gaze was pointed and I realized he knew what worried me. He was taking on the task of hiding our stolen evidence because he would be less likely to be questioned by Fraser in the process.

  “I don’t care about being domestic.” I forced a smile as I leaned back in my chair. “Knock yourself out getting coffee. Don’t forget to get underwear first.”

  “Definitely get underwear,” Eliot growled.

  “No problem, prudes.” Grandpa made an exaggerated face as he smiled at Fraser. “Can you believe these two? You’d think they’re allergic to nudity or something. It’s a crying shame.”

  “Um … yes.” Fraser blinked several times in rapid succession as he attempted to look everywhere but the spot where Grandpa was swinging footloose and fancy-free in Eliot’s robe. He waited until Grandpa disappeared inside of the house to speak again. “Wow. He is … energetic.”

  “That’s not exactly the word I’d use, but okay.” I swiped at one of my eyes to make sure all of the morning crusties were gone. “Is there something we can help you with, Inspector Fraser? We weren’t exactly expecting you.”

  “No. Definitely not, huh?” Fraser’s gaze was weighted as it landed on Jake. “I didn’t realize you had regular morning … meetings.”

  “I spent the night here,” Jake supplied, his tone casual. “We’ve been discussing the best way to investigate Cara’s murder as a group – you know, since we’re all suspects – and it got to be late, so I merely crashed here.”

  “I see.” Fraser looked pained. “On the couch?”

  “It’s a big house,” Eliot replied. “We have a designated guest room.”

  “Oh, well, that’s probably best.” Fraser looked almost relieved. “As for investigating Ms. Carpenter’s death, I’d prefer you leave that to the professionals.” He said the second part in a congenial manner, but there could be no mistaking the fact that he was agitated.

  “We were prepared to leave it up to the professionals until it became clear that the professionals aren’t interested in looking beyond us,” Eliot said. “That doesn’t really work for us on more than one level, so we’ve decided to launch our own investigation.”

  “I see.” Fraser steepled his fingers as he rested his elbows on the table. “You know I can file a complaint with the state if you insist on sticking your nose into this investigation, right?”

  “You know I can do the same against you because you refuse to share information, right?” Jake challenged, his eyebrows migrating up his forehead. “This is
a trying situation for everyone involved, and as far as I can see you’re making things worse, so I don’t have a lot of sympathy for your plight.”

  “I see.” Fraser did his best to remain calm, but I didn’t miss the momentary flash of anger in his eyes. “Well, the case is actually why I’m here. We’ve had a few updates. I thought I should discuss them with you.”

  “That sounds fun,” I said, forcing a fake smile. “We’re happy to hear about these developments. Of course, we’d be even happier next time if you called before you showed up.”

  “Oh, and I thought you’d welcome information whenever it came.”

  Fraser’s tone was grating. I knew what he was trying to do. It wouldn’t work on me.

  “Yes, but when you purposely show up early or late because you want to see if you can catch us doing something illegal, it starts to get old,” I offered. “By the way, Eliot and I like to swim naked in the pool after dark. If you’re not careful you’re going to catch a show of a different sort.

  “You’ve already seen that my grandfather likes to swim naked in the pool in the early morning,” I continued. “Other than that, we’re sticklers when it comes to the law.” Other than breaking into a dead woman’s home – twice – to see who she was blackmailing, I silently added. “You don’t seem to be a stickler for manners and decency, so we’re at an impasse.”

  My boldness clearly annoyed Fraser. He narrowed his eyes as he fought to contain his temper. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” he said after a beat. “That wasn’t my intention.”

  “That was exactly your intention,” Eliot countered. “You expected to catch us doing something – although I still have no idea what – and you were hopeful we’d be dumb enough to leave evidence out in the open.”

  “We didn’t kill Cara,” I added. “You’re looking in the wrong direction. You might want to start expanding your search.”

  “Is that what you’d do?” Fraser looked almost amused as he locked gazes with me, recovering quickly after we went on the offensive and knocked him off his game. “It seems you fancy yourself an investigator, so how would you approach the case?”

  I snorted. “I’m not an investigator. I’m a reporter. There’s a difference.”

  “Yes, there’s definitely a difference.” Fraser rubbed his cheek. “As a reporter, you’ve been covering this story while considered a person of interest in the death. Don’t you believe that’s a conflict of interest?”

  “Not even remotely.” I shifted my eyes to the sliding glass door when I heard Grandpa returning. I had to bite back a laugh when I saw he’d chosen to wear a pair of Eliot’s boxer shorts – which were far too small – and one of my over-sized Star Wars sleep shirts. He looked as if he’d overdosed on a big serving of crazy this morning. Of course, I had a feeling that was his intention.

  “And why not?” Fraser followed my gaze, his mouth dropping open in amazement. “What the … ?”

  “Don’t comment on it,” Jake ordered. “It only encourages him. Offending people with his fashion choices is kind of his super power.”

  “So is rampant nudity,” I muttered, shaking my head as Grandpa approached with Fraser’s coffee. “Nice outfit.”

  “Thank you.” The wide-eyed stares and snickers clearly didn’t bother Grandpa. “You didn’t have much to choose from. By the way, I looked in that drawer in your nightstand. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  My cheeks colored as I stared at my tomato juice. “You went through the nightstand? That was none of your business.”

  “You’re a sick, sick person,” Grandpa chided. “I raised you better than that.”

  “When did you raise her?” Fraser asked, intrigued. “That’s not in her records.”

  “Forget that,” Jake said. “What do you have in your nightstand? You guys are filthy animals, aren’t you?”

  Eliot shrugged. “She is a filthy animal. I’m a good boy.”

  “Yeah, I saw what you have in your nightstand, too,” Grandpa shot back. “You’re sicker than she is.”

  Eliot furrowed his brow, frowning. “What do I have in my nightstand that you find offensive?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” Grandpa swished his lips and focused on Fraser. “I see you’re still poking your nose in the wrong holes. You should know that you’re likely to get it bitten off if you keep doing things like that.”

  I had to give Fraser credit. He didn’t lower himself to Grandpa’s level. It was obvious Grandpa wanted to see if he could elicit a negative response. Instead, Fraser merely shrugged. “I have to follow every lead that crosses my desk. That’s what good police work is.”

  “Oh, really?” Grandpa cocked an eyebrow as he focused on Jake. “Aren’t you glad you know that? You’ve been going about things all wrong. You have to follow every lead that crosses your desk. You can’t pick and choose the ones you want.”

  “I’ll file that away for future consideration.” Jake smirked. He’d always been fond of Grandpa, even going on family fishing trips back in the day because Grandpa invited him. “As for the case, you must have a reason for being here, Inspector Fraser. Do you want to get to it or should we start guessing?”

  I took that as an opportunity to annoy and shot my hand in the air. “I have a guess.”

  Jake pursed his lips to keep from laughing while Fraser scowled. Grandpa, however, bobbed his head and pointed at me as if he was a teacher selecting a student to answer a question. “Avery, why do you think Inspector Fraser is here?”

  “I think he’s here because he wants to believe we’re idiots and we’ll somehow change our minds and admit to killing Cara, even though we didn’t,” I replied primly, ignoring the way Eliot rubbed his forehead – as if I was giving him a headache – and remained focused on Fraser. “I also think he’s running around in circles and wants us to give him leads.”

  “I think that’s a very good answer.” Grandpa beamed. He loves irritating people almost as much as I do. When we can tag team people, it’s all the more fun. “Do you want to give him leads?”

  That was an interesting question. “Well, I want this case to be over with quickly because it’s really starting to bug me. But I don’t believe in leading the lazy to water because they’re too slow to find their own beverage to drink.”

  “A very good point.” Grandpa maintained his aggravating tone despite the fact that I could tell Fraser was about ready to blow a gasket. I was mildly interested to see what that would look like, so I opted to keep playing Grandpa’s game.

  “Still, it seems Inspector Fraser needs our help,” I said. “You always taught me to help those less fortunate.”

  “I did indeed.” Grandpa’s eyes sparkled as Eliot shot me a warning look.

  “Knock it off,” Eliot warned, taking control of the situation. “Inspector Fraser clearly came here for a reason. I doubt very much it’s to watch you guys put on a comedy routine.”

  “Oh, is that what they were doing?” Fraser managed to rein in his temper, although just barely. He forced a grateful smile for Eliot’s benefit. “As for why I’m here, I have a few follow-up questions.”

  Oh, well, this promised to be annoying. “And what would those questions be?”

  “Well, for starters, I wondered if you’ve had any contact with Edward Haugh.”

  The statement caught me off guard. My initial inclination was to lie, but I knew that was probably a bad idea. Fraser wouldn’t be bringing it up if he didn’t already know the answer. “I met with him the day before yesterday.”

  “I see.” Fraser carried himself in a manner that suggested he was above it all. He probably thought it made him look aloof but professional. In reality it simply made him look like a tool. “Can you expand on your conversation with Mr. Haugh?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but Eliot stilled me with a hand on my wrist. “Why does that matter?” he asked. “Does Haugh have something to do with this?”

  “I’m the one asking the questions, Mr. Kane. I need to kn
ow exactly what happened when Ms. Shaw visited Mr. Haugh’s office.”

  Eliot opened his mouth to argue, but I shook my head to silence him. I could handle myself while being questioned. This was one of the rare skills at which I excelled.

  “I wanted to talk to Mr. Haugh because I knew he was one of the last people to see Cara alive,” I explained.

  “And how did you know that?”

  “Because Eliot and I ran into Cara and Haugh at Meijer the Friday before she died,” I replied. “They were shopping for the weekend, just like Eliot and me. They were chummy and close, and I assumed they were dating. After her death, I wanted to talk to Haugh because it’s standard operating procedure to focus on the boyfriend or husband first.”

  That sounded plausible, right? It was mostly the truth, so I wasn’t worried about tripping myself up.

  “You mentioned seeing the deceased in the store before her death,” Fraser said. “I don’t believe you gave me a name for the man she was with. Why is that?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. I thought I did give you a name. If I didn’t, it was an oversight.”

  “You can’t arrest her for an oversight,” Grandpa interjected. “That’s rude and against the law.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s not against the law,” Fraser muttered, giving in and responding to Grandpa for the first time. Grandpa exposed the first chink in Fraser’s armor. It was interesting to see the state police inspector shift and regain control. “As for Mr. Haugh, is there a reason you took it upon yourself to interview him?”

  “I’m a reporter and wanted information regarding Cara’s activities before she died,” I answered. “I figured he might have answers, so … I interviewed him.”

  “But why?”

  “Because that’s what a reporter does.”

  “My problem with that is that Mr. Haugh seems to think you interviewed him on behalf of the state police,” Fraser said. “He wasn’t happy with your visit. He said you were aggressive.”

  “That wasn’t me being aggressive,” I countered. “When I’m aggressive I start playing theme music from my phone before I hop on people’s desks and do a ‘you’re going to answer my questions’ dance. It’s quite rhythmic. Some might even term it hypnotic. Oh, and I use the ‘Bad Boys’ theme from Cops because it’s just annoying enough to unnerve people.”