New Media & Old Grudges

by Amanda M. Lee

  “I ... yeah. The last one was good. We’ll go see it.”

  “That Child’s Play remake sucked, though.” Horror films were one thing Eliot and I initially bonded over. This was an easy conversation.

  “That movie did suck,” he agreed, doling out the napkins. “It was awful. In fact, they need to come up with a different word for awful. It was ... bleh.”

  I laughed at his reaction, which was enough to shake the pall hanging over the room.

  “Avery, tell me what you’re feeling,” he insisted, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. “I don’t know that eating our weight in chili and hotdogs will make any of this better. We need to talk.”

  Ugh. He always wanted to talk things to death. I was all for stuffing my face until I felt sick. Then I would have a reason to climb into bed and shut out this awful day. He wouldn’t allow that. He knew me well enough to understand exactly how I planned to escape and would head me off before it happened.

  “I don’t know what I’m thinking,” I admitted after a beat. “I just ... don’t ... know. It feels like too much to comprehend.”

  “Then let’s start with the big stuff. How do you feel about Ludington being shot?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t know. How am I supposed to feel?”

  “I don’t think there’s any hard and fast rule. If you’re happy about it, that’s a valid emotion given all the things he’s done to you.”

  “And if I’m not happy about it?”

  “Also a valid emotion.”

  I hated it when he was so reasonable. “Well, my first instinct was worry, but not over him. I was worried for us. The fact that Jake showed up was enough to make me realize that we were probably going to face a lot of scrutiny.”

  “That’s true, but I don’t care about that.”

  “Yeah. My second thought didn’t really occur until I was in the hospital and heard the deputies talking with Fawn. She was angry because they wouldn’t let her in. They described Tad being on machines and I remember thinking that wasn’t right. I couldn’t argue with him if he was hooked up to machines because then people would think I was a bully and that’s not fair.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Oh, that’s such a you thing to think.”

  “I don’t want him dead,” I said after a moment’s contemplation. “I don’t want him happy — don’t get me wrong — but I don’t want him dead.”

  “I know that.”

  “It’s just weird. The Fawn thing is weird, too. She’s going to push that state trooper to focus on us. You know that, right?”

  “From what you said, I think she’s going to focus the state trooper on you. She’ll leave me out of it, or paint me as a victim.”

  “That’s an interesting observation.” I cut into my first coney and tried to ignore the way Rocky tried to grab the knife. “Maybe she thinks if she points the finger at me that you’ll be open for offers when I’m locked up.”

  “That won’t happen.”

  “Me being locked up?”

  “Any of it. The only offers I want are from you.”

  “Even if I go to prison for life?”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “Oh, now you’re omnipotent?”

  He didn’t immediately respond and when I risked a glance in his direction I found him watching me with sad eyes. “I’m sorry,” I offered. “I’m cranky and I feel the need to fight. You’re the only one handy. The kitten is too small.”

  He cracked a smile. “It’s going to be okay. I know I keep saying that, but I truly believe it. The security system recordings work in our favor. It proves we didn’t leave and ... .” He trailed off, cocking his head to the side as a strange noise came from the front of the house. “Do you hear that?”

  I nodded, licking my thumb. I wasn’t the most graceful eater under the best of circumstances. “So what?”

  “I think it’s coming from our driveway.” He strode toward the front door and wrenched it open. The way his entire demeanor shifted told me that whatever was out there was not good. “Son of a ... !”

  He charged out the door.

  I sat there a moment, unsure what to do. When Rocky took off toward the open door I regained my senses and followed. I scooped him up the moment he hit the threshold and stepped through the opening, pulling up short when I saw the flatbed truck. Men were loading my car onto it.

  “What’s happening?” I was beyond confused.

  Jacobs appeared on the other side of the truck, his smile even wider than before. “Hello.”

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Eliot hissed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

  “Impounding your girlfriend’s car. I have a warrant.” He calmly extended a piece of paper toward Eliot, who seethed with rage.

  “Cute cat,” Jacobs said as I held onto a squirming Rocky.

  Frustrated, Eliot opened the warrant and read it. “How did you even get this?”

  “It wasn’t difficult. I do have a question.” He turned and moved toward his cruiser, digging in the passenger seat and returning with what looked to be a gun wrapped in a towel. “Can you identify this?”

  I wasn’t sure what was happening and my tongue felt tangled. “No. Should I be able to identify it?”

  “I found it in the hatchback of your car when I opened it. I’ve been here a good ten minutes. I didn’t want to disturb you because I knew you weren’t available for questions.”

  My heart thumped so hard I thought it would pound its way out of my chest. “That’s not mine.”

  “No? Then how did it get into your car?”

  “I don’t ... .” I looked to Eliot, bewildered.

  “Don’t talk to him,” Eliot ordered, putting his hand to my shoulder and nudging me back toward the house. “Go inside.”

  I was too flustered to register what he’d said. “That’s not mine,” I repeated.

  “Knock it off, Avery,” Eliot ordered. “Go inside.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to sit down and answer some questions? I think it would be in your best interests, no matter what your boyfriend and attorney say. If you really are being framed — and someone is doing a heckuva job of it — now would be the time to get your story on the record.”

  I thought Eliot might punch him so I kept Rocky in one hand and grabbed Eliot with the other. “We’re not talking,” I stressed. “We’re going inside. Do ... whatever you have to do.”

  And I would do whatever I had to do to clear myself. This was getting out of control.

  “I know how to do my job.” He tipped an invisible hat. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I muttered.

  10 Ten

  I didn’t eat my dinner and Eliot didn’t press. He also didn’t browbeat me into talking about things. What was there to talk about? My car was gone, a gun had been found in the hatchback of my car, and I was in big trouble.

  “Hey.” He smiled and stretched the next morning when I opened my eyes. I hadn’t slept well, my dreams a muddled hodgepodge of horror, and I was feeling racked. One look at him told me that things could be worse. At least he refused to leave my corner.

  “Hey.” I pressed my eyes shut and burrowed close, tuning out the world. “Did you sleep okay?”

  He chuckled at the question, catching me off guard. “I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line.” He ran his thumb over my jawline and tried to tip up my face. I fought the effort, ultimately causing him to sigh. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “What is there to talk about?” I’d given this a lot of thought when trying to fall asleep. “Someone shot Tad and is trying to frame me. That’s what’s happening.”

  “Agreed,” he said, his fingers gentle as he brushed my hair from my eyes. “We need to figure out who. Sitting on the sidelines is no longer an option.”

  “I don’t know what you were doing, but I was never passive. I believe that’s why we almost got into an argument yest
erday.”

  “No. We almost got into an argument yesterday because you made a ridiculous move and visited the guy you’re suspected of shooting at the hospital.”

  “Um ... that was a smart move.”

  “I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree, because I refuse to let you draw me into an argument this early in the morning ... even though that’s what you really want.”

  “Why would you possibly say that?”

  “Because I’ve met you.” He was calm as he rubbed his hand over my back, but I could feel the tumult churning beneath the surface. He was worried. He didn’t want to say anything because he was afraid I would freak out, but it was fear that would guide him from here on out.

  I wasn’t sure that was good.

  “I didn’t do it,” I reminded him. “I was with you when it was supposedly going down.”

  His gaze was sharp as we finally locked eyes. “I know you didn’t do it. If anybody has faith in you, it’s me. You don’t have to tell me things like that.”

  “I just ... wanted to reiterate that fact. I know you’re afraid.”

  He didn’t run from the word. “I am afraid,” he agreed. “I’m afraid that we’re already behind on this one. Someone obviously planned to frame you from the start.”

  “Or somebody took advantage of what happened,” I countered.

  He stilled, pursing his lips. “You think someone had plans to kill Ludington and moved on him specifically because your altercation went viral on the news.”

  “It makes as much sense as anything,” I offered. “For those who saw everything, it would’ve made more sense to frame you ... and I’m not saying that because I’m afraid I won’t do well in prison. I’ve seen Orange is the New Black and know that I’ll be locked in solitary confinement to slowly go crazy by the end of the first day.”

  His expression was pained. “Okay, let’s not say things like that, huh? I’m already on edge — something you’ve obviously sussed out. I don’t want to think about things like that. Besides, you’re not going to prison.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I do know that. I won’t let it happen.”

  “And we’re back to you being omnipotent.”

  “No, just connected. If I feel they’re coming to take you away from me, we’ll run.”

  I was dumbfounded. “Run where?”

  “I don’t know. Where would you like to go? I think we should go to a non-extradition country just to be on the safe side. I’m thinking Tonga, but I’m open to other tropical locales.”

  He couldn’t possibly be serious. “Eliot ... .” I had no idea what to say. I struggled to find the right words. That rarely happened. Even when I wasn’t sure what to say I still blurted out ridiculous things to fill the silence. That’s simply who I was.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he reassured me for what felt like the hundredth time. “We’re nowhere near that being a necessity. I just want you to know that if it comes to it we have that option.”

  No, we didn’t have that option. I would never let him sacrifice his life like that. I knew better than telling him that, though. He wouldn’t take it well. For now, it was best to sit on that information. “A life on the run, huh?” I forced a smile for his benefit. “That sounds lovely.”

  “Why do I think you’re just saying that?”

  “Because you’re a suspicious fellow. In fact ... .” I frowned when my cell phone beeped. “Who would be texting this early?” I muttered, reaching for the phone.

  Eliot’s body tensed and I knew he was worried it was a message from Jake telling us something bad was about to happen. Jake would’ve called rather than texted, though.

  “It’s from Fish,” I volunteered, furrowing my brow as I scanned the words. The message was short and anything but sweet. It caused my heart to lodge in my throat. “I’ve been suspended.”

  “What?” Eliot grabbed the phone from my hand and read the message as I tried to absorb the news. “He can’t do this.”

  “It seems he has done it.” I rolled to a sitting position and rubbed my forehead, my heart pounding. “Wow. I’ve never been fired before.”

  “You haven’t been fired,” Eliot shot back, his temper on full display. “This says you’re suspended until you’ve been cleared. I can’t help but wonder what changed between yesterday and today.”

  “Really?” I cocked a challenging eyebrow. “Jacobs obviously went to the newspaper office and interviewed my co-workers yesterday. In fact ... oh, geez. Do you think he talked to Duncan? Ugh. My life is over.”

  “Let’s not get dramatic,” Eliot ordered. “There’s no reason to panic.”

  That was easy for him to say. “I think my life is over.”

  “WHY AREN’T YOU DRESSED?”

  Eliot found me sitting in the living room blankly staring into nothing an hour later. He’d showered and dressed for work. I’d eaten the breakfast he prepared and come up with a hundred different scenarios in which I never got my job back even if I somehow managed to clear my name and garner an apology from the state police in the process. That accounted for my entire morning.

  “I have nowhere to go,” I reminded him. “There’s no point in getting dressed.”

  His frown was pronounced. “You can’t just sit here and pout all day.”

  “I didn’t realize you were my boss.” I was desperate for a fight. I needed to take out my aggression on someone and he was my only available target.

  “Avery ... .”

  I waited for him to start yelling. Instead, he shifted course.

  “I’m sorry this is happening. I get that you’re upset. We’ll figure this out. We have to work together. You can’t just sit here if you expect to fix things.”

  “I don’t feel like fixing things right now.” What I felt like doing was being petulant. “I feel like ... thinking.”

  “Uh-huh.” He folded his arms over his chest. “Is that what you’re going to do all day? You’re going to sit here and think?”

  “I’m strategizing,” I lied. “I’m going to have an awesome plan by the time you come home from work. I don’t have a job to go to, so it only makes sense for me to stay here and ... think.”

  “Fine.” He threw up his hands and headed toward our bedroom.

  “Where are you going? I thought you were heading to work.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to be in here — thinking.”

  That sounded ominous.

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER HIS PLAN BECAME obvious. By then it was too late to change my mind and take a shower without further prodding. Once my best friend Carly flew into the room, I knew I was a dead woman ... and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  “I can’t believe they did this to you!” Carly was outraged on my behalf. She was always good that way. She was massively pregnant these days, so her enormous belly sallied forth into the room before her. It was a formidable sight.

  I lifted my eyes and focused on Eliot as he poked his head out of the bedroom. He’d been quiet for so long I wondered if he’d slipped out a window. Obviously he’d been biding his time, avoiding me to make sure things didn’t devolve into an argument. Now that Carly was here I was truly stuck, and he recognized that.

  “It’s not a big deal,” I lied, forcing a smile for my best friend’s benefit. “I’ll get my job back when I’m cleared of Tad’s shooting.” It was a good response. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop some of my defeatist attitude from seeping in. “If he dies he won’t be able to tell anyone that I’m not the person who shot him. In that case I will not only lose my job forever, I’ll go to prison.”

  Eliot scowled. “I already told you that’s not going to happen.”

  “It’s not,” Carly agreed, planting herself on the couch next to me. “You’re not guilty. I mean ... do they even realize how many openings you’ve had to kill Tad if you really wanted to do it? All you have to do is tell the judge that he used to bring a briefcase to parties because he was full of himself wh
en we were in college and you would get off for justifiable homicide.”

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Of course you didn’t. You’d be far more likely to talk him to death than shoot him. Everybody knows that.”

  “Yeah, well ... it’s fine.” I wasn’t in the mood to talk. “Eliot didn’t need to call you to check on me. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with me.”

  “Eliot didn’t call me.” Carly lied with a straight face. “I just wanted to see you because ... well ... I need you.”

  “Uh-huh.” That was a load of hogwash. “I’m fine. There’s nothing you can do right now. There’s really nothing I can do. I don’t want you worrying. It’s only about a month until you give birth. Getting worked up on my behalf isn’t good for you.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” she said simply. “As for Eliot, he didn’t call me. I just knew you needed me.”

  We both knew that was a lie. I couldn’t order her out of the house given her condition, though. For some reason, the bigger she got, the less I could say no to her. “Fine. We’ll hang out ... hey, why aren’t you at work?”

  “I have the day off for a special class.” Her eyes twinkled in such a way I instantly knew I was in trouble.

  “A class?” I furrowed my brow as I tried to sort out what she was trying to say. “Are you going back to school for something?”

  “Not that sort of class. It’s for the baby.” She gestured toward her huge stomach. “It’s a birthing class.”

  I felt as if the floor was dropping out from beneath me. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s a birthing class,” she repeated, unfazed by my response. “This is perfect timing. I was going to set up a special time for you and Eliot to attend a class together. He has to work, but you can go with me and then we’ll set up a different class for him. This is ... totally awesome how things worked out.”

  I could think of a few other words to describe how I was feeling. “Carly, I don’t know that I’m up for a birthing class.”

  “You’re depressed.” She sounded perfectly reasonable, but I sensed a hormonal beast about to rise inside her. “You need to see something that will make you happy. What’s happier than seeing a human being come into existence?”