New Media & Old Grudges

by Amanda M. Lee

  “You’re wrong.” He was adamant. “I know who you are. That’s why we’re together. You confused me at first, but now I can’t imagine being with anyone else. You are who you are and aren’t apologetic about it. That’s exactly the sort of person I always want by my side.”

  The intensity of his gaze caused me to shift on my seat. The conversation had taken a decidedly serious turn. “I ... um ... .”

  “I think what you want to say is ‘thank you,’” he said with a chuckle.

  “Thank you.” My cheeks burned as I went to staring out the window. “I like you, too.”

  That made him laugh harder. “See. What’s not to love about that?” He reached for the knob on the radio. “I don’t want to listen to her.”

  “Yeah.” It was time to tell him my idea. “So ... um ... how would you feel about breaking into her place tonight?” As far as pitches go, it wasn’t my best.

  “What?” He drew his eyebrows together.

  “You heard her. She’s going to be at the hospital until at least midnight. She won’t be home.”

  “And you want to break into her house.”

  “I figured you would have the address because you used to sign her paychecks.”

  “I could find out.” He hesitated and then barreled forward. “What do you expect to find there? You don’t think she’s a suspect, do you?”

  “I think it’s unlikely she’s our culprit. A cynical person might believe that she set this all in motion so she could get her face out there, but why is beyond me. Maybe she wants to join the political world or just likes attention. Maybe she thought Tad going down would force you to race to her rescue, or at least check on her to make sure she was okay.”

  “I have no interest in racing to anyone’s rescue but yours ... and you often frown on that because you’re the Han Solo in our relationship and you want to swoop in and save the day.”

  He knew me too well. “The thing is, she’s been acting squirrelly. I’m thinking she might have files in her apartment. We’ve been hypothesizing that whoever shot Tad might’ve stolen his or her own file. What if Fawn has copies of all the files?”

  Eliot focused on the traffic. “I hate to admit it — mostly because I wanted to take you home and play naughty games — but that’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

  “I can see Fawn and Tad launching this blackmail plan together,” I supplied. “They have common enemies ... namely me.”

  “Hey, Ludington doesn’t like me any more than he likes you.”

  “No, but he probably figures you would cease to be a problem if I was out of the picture. Fawn’s in love with you — or at least in deep lust — and she wants you and I separated. Maybe they came up with a plan to accomplish that.”

  He was silent for a moment before nodding. “It can’t hurt to look. But this time you have to be quiet when we’re breaking the law. That’s the new rule.”

  “Absolutely.” I mimed zipping my lips. “I’ll be quiet as a ... what’s really quiet?”

  “Not you.”

  “I’ll be quiet as a mime. I might even pretend to be in a box.”

  “Oh, geez.” Eliot rolled his eyes. “Here we go again.”

  FAWN RENTED A HOUSE IN ROSEVILLE. It turned out she only lived one street over from my cousin Lexie. Because that house used to belong to me before I moved in with Eliot, I found it to be an odd coincidence.

  “How long has she lived here?” I asked as we walked toward the small bungalow.

  “Why would I know that?” Eliot already had his tools out. “We need to cross in front a few times to see if there are any cameras.”

  “Why would she have cameras?”

  “I once mentioned that everybody should have cameras, and she asked me a bunch of questions. I’m guessing she has cameras because I said they were important.”

  Oh, well, that made sense. Fawn didn’t have a mind of her own where Eliot was concerned. “And if she does?”

  “We jam the feed.” He grinned. “I’m talented, baby.” He gave me a quick kiss and then focused his full attention on the house. “There’s at least one camera on the eave there.” He gestured with his chin. “I’m pretty sure she has a doorbell camera, too.” He narrowed his eyes. “One more pass.”

  He was the expert in this particular field, so I let him lead. He was calm despite what we were doing and when he pulled a handheld jammer out of his pocket I barely noticed.

  “Do you always walk around with that thing?”

  “Shh.”

  “No, seriously.”

  “Shh.”

  “Fine. Don’t talk to me. I can take it.”

  He hit another button on the jammer and then shifted his eyes to me. “I keep one in my truck just in case I need it.”

  “Oh. That makes sense. Why didn’t you just tell me that the first time I asked?”

  “This was supposed to be a quiet adventure.”

  “I’ve been quiet.”

  “Yeah. Only in your world.” He shoved the device into his pocket and then gestured with his chin. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

  He had his lock pick kit out by the time we reached the front door. I stood with my back to him and my eyes on the street in case we garnered unwanted attention. He had the door open in less than a minute, and once we were inside I let out a sigh of relief ... until I saw the huge framed photograph on the wall in the foyer.

  “Is that ... ?”

  “Me.” Eliot looked dumbfounded as he stared at the photograph. It was him. He stood behind his shop counter at his store, boasting a handsome smile. “Where did she even get this?”

  I didn’t want him to freak out or anything, but this felt a bit stalkerish to me. “She probably took it when you weren’t looking ... though it kind of looks as if you’re looking directly at her.”

  “I don’t understand this.” He glanced around, as if looking for an explanation in writing to be readily available. “Why would she do this?”

  I could think of only one reason. “She’s infatuated with you.”

  “Well, great.” His hand landed on my back, as if trying to placate me. “You know that I didn’t encourage this, right?”

  I had to laugh at his earnest reaction. “Eliot, if there’s one thing I never worry about with you, it’s loyalty. You would never cheat. You would break up with me first.”

  “That’s true, but I have no intention of breaking up with you. You’re too much fun.” His eyes sparkled as they snagged with mine. “How many men can honestly say they’ve found a woman willing to break into people’s houses with them?”

  “Only the truly lucky ones.” I squeezed his hand — mostly because he seemed to need it more than me — and then moved deeper into the house. “Let’s see what other surprises she has for us.”

  The decorations in the living room were of the sparse variety. We found several more photos of Eliot, snapshots in small frames. That didn’t mean he wasn’t bothered by the discovery — to the point he was muttering constantly — but they weren’t nearly as jarring as the huge one in the foyer.

  Other than the snapshots, there was little of interest. The kitchen was next; there was even less to focus on in that room. Once we moved down the hallway, things got interesting.

  “I have never seen this much makeup in my entire life,” I noted as I studied her bathroom counter. “I mean ... are you serious? Look at this crap. Who needs eight different foundations?”

  Eliot cast me a sidelong look from the hallway. He wasn’t nearly as interested in the bathroom as me. “Maybe she just likes makeup. Not everybody is happy with the bare-faced look you often sport.”

  It felt like an insult, though I couldn’t quite identify why. “I wear makeup for you. Heck, I wear makeup every day. I just happen to wear tinted moisturizer ... and a little eyeliner ... and a little powder. That’s pretty much it, but I wear stuff.”

  He looked amused by my need to stand up for my face. “I like minimal makeup. I don’t get
the appeal of constantly painting yourself up. That’s just me, though. If you want to wear more makeup, that’s up to you. I just want you to be happy.”

  “Oh, that was such a suck-up answer.” I made a face as I followed him back into the hallway. “Don’t think I’m unaware of what you just did there. You’re going to try to romance me when we get home and you’re hoping I feel gooey because of what you just said about liking me without makeup.”

  He snorted. “You got me.”

  Rather than an office, Fawn had a spare bedroom that appeared to be full of nothing but yoga mats and free weights. There was a television — probably for watching workout shows — but nothing else of interest. That left her bedroom. I was mildly creeped out by the notion of going through her private things.

  Eliot, who had put on rubber gloves before attacking the lock on the front door, flipped on the light and frowned as an explosion of pink assailed his eyes. “Oh, well this is ... horrible.”

  “It kind of reminds me of the inside of a vagina,” I noted.

  He slid his eyes to me, dumbfounded. “How do you know what the inside of a vagina looks like?”

  “I told you about the baby video, right? You’ll still have to sit through that, by the way. That’s your penance.”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” His chuckle was dry and dull, but his eyes sharpened as he looked me over. “Where are your gloves?”

  I held out my hands and shrugged. “I didn’t bring any. I wasn’t planning a B and E when we left today.”

  “Yeah, but ... ugh.” He shook his head. “I had extra gloves in the truck. You should’ve said something.”

  “I don’t like those gloves. They make me think of proctology exams.”

  “That joke wasn’t funny the first time you told it.”

  “I’ll work on new material and get back to you.”

  “You do that.” Eliot knelt and picked up a shirt from the floor. Fawn was a neat housekeeper, so it stood out in the sea of cleanliness. “This doesn’t look like a woman’s shirt.” He held it up for me to inspect.

  He wasn’t wrong. What was worse, I recognized the shirt. “That belongs to Tad.”

  He stilled, disbelief washing over his features. “How can you be sure?”

  “Those are his initials.” I pointed at the monogram on the pocket of the shirt. “Also, he was wearing it under his suit the night we got into it at the county building.”

  “You mean he was wearing it the night he got shot.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, but he probably has a bunch of those shirts. He always wears them. I guess it’s possible it could be another shirt, just the same design.”

  “But why would it be here?”

  There was only one reason I could think of. “Because Fawn and Tad are bumping uglies on top of everything else. She’s the type who sleeps her way to the top. She would’ve done it with you if she could. Tad doesn’t have your moral compass.”

  Eliot wrinkled his nose as he dropped the shirt. “What does this mean?”

  “I don’t know. I need to think.”

  “Do you need to do it here?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go. I need a long shower after this ... visit. I’m still creeped out by that photo in the foyer.”

  21 Twenty-One

  I woke to pounding on our front door.

  Eliot was instantly alert as he rolled out of bed. I remained where I was, the cat clutched in my arms.

  “What ... ?”

  “Stay there,” he ordered as he stalked out of the bedroom.

  I wasn’t the type of person who had all her faculties before coffee so that wasn’t a hard edict to follow. Still, when angry voices reached me from the other room, I cautiously climbed out of bed ... and came face to face with a nightmare.

  Jacobs, four state troopers in tow, stood in the middle of the foyer, his hands on his hips. For his part, Eliot was studying a sheet of paper and seemed oblivious to my arrival.

  “Good morning.” Jacobs was smarmy to the point of being oily. The smile he sent me made my stomach churn. “I have a warrant to search your house. Hopefully it won’t take very long. You don’t have any weapons on your person, do you?” He paused. “Probably not. There’s nowhere to hide one.”

  I glanced down to see what I was wearing and wanted to disappear inside a hole when I realized my entire outfit consisted of a pair of tiny cotton sleep shorts and a white tank top, no bra. “Um ... .”

  Eliot turned to me. “Get a robe, Avery. The warrant is legit. We’re going to have to deal with it.”

  “Sorry to be a bummer.” Jacobs motioned with a finger. “Hodgins, please accompany Ms. Shaw to wherever she needs to go to get this robe. Make sure she doesn’t touch anything.”

  Eliot, dressed in only boxer shorts, pinned the state investigator with a death glare. “I’ll take her to get her robe. Not that I don’t trust your men or anything, but she’s vulnerable to them.”

  I didn’t like thinking that I was vulnerable to anybody. “Hey!”

  “Don’t you start,” Eliot warned.

  Jacobs shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow that. We need to make sure you don’t touch anything.”

  Eliot ran his tongue over his teeth, debating. “Fine. Your man can go with me to the bathroom to get the robes.”

  “Do you really think I would send someone who would molest her?”

  “I’m not taking any chances.”

  “Fine.” Jacobs conceded. “Hodgins, go with Mr. Kane. Search the pockets of any robes he might collect.”

  Hodgins nodded, his expression grim. “Lead the way, sir.”

  Eliot left me with Jacobs as he went to our bedroom. I immediately missed his presence but refused to allow Jacobs the satisfaction of knowing I was rattled.

  “You really are wasting your time here,” I volunteered. “We didn’t shoot Tad. When he wakes up ... .” I trailed off. There was no guarantee Tad would clear us of any wrongdoing. He was a vindictive putz. Also, it was possible he might not remember what had happened.

  “You were saying?” Jacobs prodded.

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t care what I have to say.”

  “On the contrary, Ms. Shaw, I’m very interested in what you have to say. The problem is that you haven’t said much of anything. That’s at the behest of your boyfriend. Perhaps you should break away from his control and think on your own for a change.”

  The statement chafed, as I’m sure he meant it to, but I refused to fall victim to simple verbal manipulation. If that was my way I wouldn’t have been able to get one (or one thousand, to be more exact) over on Tad in the first place. “Where do you want us while you’re searching?”

  Jacobs studied me for a moment and then shook his head, seemingly disappointed. “Where would you like to be?”

  “I don’t really care.”

  “Then the living room is fine.” He gestured toward the couch. “If you need coffee or anything, you need to ask one of my investigators to watch you the entire time you’re out of this room. Understand?”

  “Got it.” I accepted the Star Wars robe Eliot handed me as he walked back into the room. He’d slipped into his simple black terry cloth number while gone. He hadn’t bothered belting it, leaving his bare chest on display. I’d tried to talk him into upgrading to a new robe — maybe something in the Chewbacca realm so we could play Star Wars games when layering in the winter — but so far he’d resisted.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes bouncing between Jacobs and me.

  I nodded as he helped me into the robe, green and brown and with Yoda ears on the hood, which didn’t escape Jacobs’ attention. “It’s fine. He wants us in the living room.”

  “Then we’ll catch some Netflix and chill,” Eliot said darkly as he prodded me in that direction. The look he shot Jacobs was full of hate ... and promise. There was a message there, and I wasn’t out of it enough to miss it. If Jacobs continued poking at me, Eliot would lose it. Both men recognize
d that, which meant Jacobs had power over Eliot.

  “Come on.” I grabbed Eliot’s hand and tugged him toward the couch. “We’ve wanted to catch up on The 100 anyway. Now’s a good time.”

  Eliot glared at Jacobs for another few seconds before focusing on me. His eyes softened as he ran his hand over my morning-mussed hair. “The 100 it is. Let’s see who they kill off this season.”

  WE WERE HALFWAY INTO THE FIRST episode when something terrible occurred to me. I’d been tucked in at Eliot’s side, a blanket around both of us — as well as the cat, who had gotten comfortable under his chin — when I bolted upright.

  “Oh, no!”

  Eliot glanced around the room to make sure we were still alone — three of the investigators were on the second floor going through our offices and the fourth was in the kitchen — and then hissed to quiet me. “Don’t say anything stupid,” he warned.

  Sometimes I couldn’t control that. “The files.” The words were barely a whisper. “Ingalls’ file on Tad. It’s upstairs on my desk. We were going to go through the documents but kept getting distracted.”

  He slipped his arm around my neck and tugged me back to my previous position even though I was feeling anything but cuddly. “Don’t worry about it.”

  How could I not worry? “We’re going to be implicated in his death if they find those files.”

  “No, we’re not.” Eliot was unnaturally calm. “Watch the show. Clarke is about to do something stupid to protect Bellamy.”

  That was the standard for the show, so that was hardly earth-shattering news. “Eliot ... .”

  “Stop.” He pressed his finger to my lips. “I took care of it.”

  When? How? Those were the questions that bubbled up, but we couldn’t have this conversation in front of Jacobs’ crew.

  He leaned closer and brushed his lips against my ear. I thought it was a weird time for him to get romantic, but then he started whispering. “I put the file on Ludington in the hidden safe, the one we built behind your shoe rack. I figured that Jacobs would eventually make his way here. I didn’t want to take any chances.”

  I deflated a bit at the words, some of the fear I’d been carrying evaporating. When we first moved into the house, Eliot insisted we needed a hidden safe. He prowled around all three floors before he finally selected what he thought was the perfect spot.