On Deadline & Under Fire

by Amanda M. Lee

  Eliot grinned as he held out a hand, waiting for me to take it and give him a good squeeze before continuing. “I am upset about the Tad situation. I know you think he’s harmless, but I think there’s going to come a day when you take things too far and he won’t be able to stop himself from going after you.”

  “He’s not brave enough for that.”

  “It’s not about bravery. It’s about being mentally unbalanced. He will snap and lash out at some point. I worry that I won’t be there when it happens.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Yes, well, like you said ... I want to be the best boyfriend in the world. I want to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

  “He won’t hurt me.”

  “You seem sure of that and yet ... it doesn’t matter.” Eliot changed course midway through the statement. “Tad is an argument for another time. I’m more worried about you and the mobsters.”

  I was taken aback. “Why would you possibly be worried about that?”

  “You have a tendency to attract bad people.”

  “You’re not a bad person.”

  “No, but I could have been,” Eliot persisted. “You didn’t know who you were dealing with when you strolled into the pawnshop. I could’ve been a very bad guy and taken advantage of you. You trusted me right from the start.”

  “Trust is a bit of an exaggeration,” I countered. “I did believe you were probably trustworthy. I’m not sure why, but I sensed something about you. If you hadn’t been trustworthy I would’ve figured that out long ago — much closer to when we met — and you would still be crying because of the punishment I would have doled out.”

  Eliot pressed his lips together. I could tell he was trying to keep from laughing.

  “I trusted you because I could,” I continued. “I recognized who and what you were almost from the very start. I was right about you. I’m often right about people.”

  “You’re sometimes wrong,” Eliot pointed out. “You’ve been wrong a few times, and you almost paid a terrible price because of it.”

  I wanted to argue the point, but there was very little chance I could win, so I let it go. “Yes, well, I’m right more often than I’m wrong.”

  “I guess.” Eliot rolled his neck. “I don’t want you digging into this if your victim really is tied to organized crime. I know you were playing it off — and even Jake to some extent — but I saw you guys talking before we left the restaurant. I’m pretty sure I know what you were talking about.”

  “Yes, Jake thinks your mother is as annoying as I do.”

  “Ha, ha.” Eliot flicked me between my eyebrows. “Don’t try covering. I know he was warning you to keep out of trouble. I also know that his warning fired you up. You can’t stop yourself from getting involved with things like this because you want to win. I’m warning you right now, I don’t think you can win this one.”

  “Shut your filthy mouth! I can always win.”

  Eliot’s smirk was back. “I’m serious. If Jay Truman really was part of the mob — and Jake seemed to indicate that at lunch — then you’re already in over your head.”

  I pictured Phil and The Domino Club, silently wondering if he was right, and then pushed the notion out of my head. “I’m on vacation. You don’t need to worry about me pushing this one too far.”

  “I wish that were true.”

  “It is true.”

  “The sad thing is, in your head, I think you really mean that,” Eliot complained. “I know you better than you do yourself. I don’t think you’re capable of letting it go.”

  I narrowed my eyes, impressed. “You just worded that as a challenge.”

  “Did I?” Eliot was suddenly innocent as he avoided my gaze and looked over my shoulder. “I don’t believe that was my intention, but if you say so.”

  I wanted to punch him ... hard. “You can’t manipulate me into doing something simply because you make it a challenge.”

  “I know that. You would never be so easily swayed.”

  “Right. However, I could totally stop looking for answers whenever I want. I’m not controlled by anything, including my own impulses.”

  “I’m sure that’s true.” Eliot used a placating tone that he reserved for when I was ranting about something my co-workers did and he couldn’t be bothered to care.

  “It is true,” I barked.

  “Uh-huh. I believe you.” The dismissive way he treated the conversation was enough to set my teeth on edge. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was trying to play to my innate need to always win. It wasn’t going to work this time. I wouldn’t allow it.

  “I’m done talking to you.” I held up my hand so I wouldn’t have to look at his face. That stupid face, with all the chiseled lines and handsome features, was always my weakness. “In fact ... .”

  Whatever I was going to say died on my lips when Maggie raced through the front door and scurried down the front walkway, not stopping until she was next to Eliot and gripping his arm.

  “What’s wrong?” Eliot asked, trying to extricate himself from his mother’s iron grip. “Why are you all worked up?”

  “There’s a man in your yard,” Maggie hissed.

  “What?”

  “There’s a man in your yard,” Maggie repeated, her eyes wide and wild. “He’s swimming in the pool. Call the police!”

  It took me much longer than it should have to catch up to what Maggie was saying. “Wait ... there’s a man swimming in our pool?”

  “Yes.” Maggie’s eyes were fearful. “I think he’s on drugs or something. He might even be a rapist.”

  “Why do you think that?” Eliot asked, digging for his phone.

  “He’s naked!”

  Something clicked into place and I lifted my eyes to snag Eliot’s gaze. “Oh, crap!”

  Instead of typing 911 into his phone and calling for help, Eliot pocketed his cell and fixed me with a furious look. “I thought you were going to talk to him about this.”

  “I did. He doesn’t listen.”

  “Well, he’s going to listen this time.” Eliot strode toward the front door. “I’m putting my foot down.”

  “Wait, you know who’s out there?” Maggie was flustered. “Who is it?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I answered, weariness momentarily overtaking me as I trudged behind Eliot. “We’ll take care of it. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to deal with this particular problem.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “My condolences.”

  “Yes, well, I might need your condolences before this is all said and done.”

  SURE ENOUGH, WE FOUND Grandpa backstroking lazily in the pool. He was buck naked, his privates pointed at the sky, and he didn’t appear bothered in the least when Eliot stormed through the back sliding glass doors.

  “Where have you guys been?” Grandpa asked, barely looking up. “I expected you to be here hours ago.”

  “We were in Mount Clemens,” I answered, lowering myself to my favorite Restoration Hardware lounger while Grandpa continued to swim. All of his bits were on display, but I was adept at avoiding the spectacle. Years of practice had given me a competitive edge in this particular event. It was a talent I’d perfected throughout the years because my grandfather was something of a nudist. He enjoyed little more than a naked swim ... and naked walk through his yard ... and naked barbecuing … and even naked lawn mowing that one time his service didn’t show up. There was no other way to put it. The man hated clothing. He would’ve been better off living on one of those islands where clothes weren’t part of societal norms. He would’ve fit in better there.

  “What were you doing in Mount Clemens?” Grandpa asked.

  “Lunch. Also, I pulled documents on Sandusky Sanitation. What do you remember about them?” I started flipping through the documents I’d collected as Eliot shot me an incredulous look.

  “I thought you were going to work with me to oust your grandfather from the pool?�
�� Eliot challenged. “Isn’t that what we agreed upon in the front yard?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. “I don’t remember getting that far,” I admitted. “You just said you would handle the situation, and here we are.”

  “Well ... I’m going to handle the situation.” Eliot turned a set of serious eyes to Grandpa. “You need to get out of our pool.”

  Grandpa stared at him for a long moment and then burst out laughing. “I like you even though you have long hair like those hippie peaceniks who were all the rage. They were against war and for love. I mean ... what a bunch of morons.”

  I ignored the irate look Eliot burned me with. “I happen to agree. I prefer a good war.”

  “Oh, really?” Eliot made a face. “I’m so glad that we decided to make our future together, in that case.”

  “I happen to enjoy the love part, too. It’s just that the war part is often unforgettable … and it gets my motor running for the love part.”

  “Well, at least you have a reason.”

  I did indeed. “Seriously, Grandpa, what do you remember about Sandusky Sanitation?”

  “I thought you were giving this up,” Eliot complained as he abandoned his station next to the pool and joined me on the lounger. He pushed me forward so he could sit behind me, placing a leg on either side, and then pulled me back against his chest so we could look over the documents together. “We just talked about this in the front yard. You said you were going to give up looking and I said you weren’t capable of doing it. Who was right?”

  “You were trying to manipulate me and we both know it.”

  “I know nothing of the sort.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my neck. “Sandusky Sanitation, Grandpa,” I prodded to remind him we were in the middle of a conversation. “What do you remember, other than Jay Truman used to come into the restaurant from time to time?”

  “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, kid.” Grandpa stroked to the side of the pool and rested his arms on the concrete so he could watch us. “Why are you so interested in all of this?”

  “Because something else is going on. Jake pretty much admitted it during lunch.”

  “Is this like when you were seventeen and you told the cops you saw Bigfoot on your way to work?” Grandpa asked dubiously. “You were convinced by their reactions that Bigfoot was real and they were participating in a grand government cover-up.”

  “I haven’t been proven wrong on that.”

  “You haven’t been proven right either,” Grandpa pointed out, pushing his thinning hair back from his forehead as he regarded us. “As for Sandusky Sanitation, I have quite a few stories. Roger Whitaker, for example, swears up and down that Madge Sinclair once called the company in the middle of the night because she killed her husband and needed quick and efficient body disposal. He lived next door, and said the truck showed up at midnight, took the body, and that Henry Sinclair was never heard from again.”

  “I remember Madge Sinclair.” I tapped my bottom lip as I considered the story. “She was unbearable. Her husband probably left her.”

  “That’s what I said, but Roger was insistent that Madge killed him and that Sandusky Sanitation handled the body removal.”

  I wanted to disregard the entire story, but the odds of Sandusky Sanitation having mob ties and never disposing of a body seemed rather slim. “What else have you heard?”

  “How much time do you have?” Grandpa challenged.

  “We have all night.”

  “You have one hour,” Eliot corrected, firm. “I’m not going to let you spend the entire night gossiping with your naked grandfather. You have one hour — and only because I’m going to be grilling steaks for dinner and we’ll be out here anyway.”

  “Steaks, huh?” Grandpa brightened considerably. “That sounds good. Please tell me you’ve got potatoes and corn, too. It’s not a steak without potatoes and corn.”

  “I don’t believe we invited you for dinner,” Eliot pointed out.

  Grandpa snorted, as if Eliot was the funniest person in the world and had just told a hilarious joke. “You make me laugh, long hair. I think you missed your calling. You should be a comedian.”

  Eliot rolled his eyes until they landed on me. “I blame you for telling him where we live.”

  “I warned you when we bought this place that we shouldn’t have that housewarming party. I believe this one is on you.”

  “I guess.” Eliot absently moved his hands to my neck and started massaging. “Well, since we’re all here and not doing anything until I start dinner, why don’t you tell us what you know about Sandusky Sanitation? It can’t hurt to have a bit more information.”

  Grandpa beamed. “Gladly.”

  Maggie picked that moment to appear on the patio. “So ... we’re just ignoring the fact that there’s a naked man in the pool? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Pretty much,” Eliot confirmed. “You can go inside if you’re offended.”

  “I think I’m about out of things to be offended about,” Maggie replied, throwing herself in one of the other loungers as she shook her head in Grandpa’s direction. “Let’s talk about the mobsters instead. It can’t possibly be any worse than the other things we’ve talked about.”

  “I like your style.” Grandpa winked at Maggie. “Who doesn’t want to focus on mobsters?”

  Maggie raised her hand. “Me. I was being facetious.”

  “Then you should practice your delivery.” Grandpa’s expression was wry as he focused on me. “So, I’ll start at the beginning unless you want to focus on specific people.”

  “No, start at the beginning,” I encouraged. “I want to hear it all.”

  “Somehow I knew you’d say that.”

  17 Seventeen

  Grandpa stayed through dinner, somehow charming Maggie into enjoying his presence. By the end of the evening, she was laughing at his jokes and was much more relaxed than she had been since arriving in Michigan.

  I always thought my grandfather had a certain way about him, a charm I tried to emulate, but he was even more impressive than I’d realized. In fact, he was a master.

  Maggie was almost giddy when she turned in, which allowed Eliot and me to sleep hard. When I woke the next morning, I found him staring at his phone rather than focusing on me. I didn’t take that as a good sign.

  “Please tell me that the world isn’t about to end,” I muttered, pushing my hair out of my eyes as I rolled to rest my chin on his shoulder. “I thought things were getting better.”

  “The world isn’t ending,” Eliot supplied. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to tell you, though.”

  Uh-oh. I sensed danger. “What’s the problem?”

  “Well, it’s nothing to get too worked up over.”

  I didn’t believe him. He was clearly holding something back. “So, what? Are we talking minor power outage or zombie apocalypse?”

  Eliot chuckled. “Neither. It’s just ... I have to go into work for a bit. The security cameras at the sheriff’s department are down. Well, two of them are down. They can’t function without all five because they’re in the jail and it will be bad if an incident happens and they’re not covered. I have to head over there and fix them.”

  “Oh, well, that’s not terrible.”

  “No.”

  It took a few minutes for my morning-muddled mind to figure out the obvious problem with Eliot’s schedule change. “Wait a second ... .”

  “Like you said, it won’t take long.” Eliot feigned cheeriness. “In fact, I think it’ll be a good thing. This will give you and Mom a chance to spend some quality time together, just like the time I got to spend with her yesterday.”

  Oh, geez. This was my payback. I thought I’d gotten away clean, but Eliot obviously had other ideas. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I didn’t think going to the mall without you yesterday was a good idea. I survived.”

  “Yes, but she’s your mother.”


  “But one of the reasons for her visit is to get to know you. This will give you a chance to accomplish that goal. It’s kind of like divine intervention. You know, meant to be and all that.”

  That sounded like the worst idea ever. “She doesn’t like me.”

  “She doesn’t know you.”

  “Fine. She’s predisposed to dislike me.”

  “That may be true — and I’ve tried talking to her about it and I think she’s loosening up — but you can handle her.” Eliot was serious as he regarded me. “She doesn’t want to like you, but I’m fairly certain she’ll have no choice once the dust settles.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because I love you.”

  I wanted to remain strong, chilly even. Instead, I melted like a piece of chocolate left in front of the fireplace. “Oh, man. That’s hitting below the belt.”

  “I know.” Eliot leaned over and pressed his lips to my forehead. “She’s difficult. She’s always been that way. I guess I’d hoped she would’ve grown during my time away.”

  “She’s not that bad,” I argued, giving in and trying to ease his misery. “My mother is worse.”

  “Your mother is a known commodity. As much as she irritates you, your mother is nice to me.”

  “That’s because she sees you as her last shot of marrying me off. In her world, the longer I’m not married the more embarrassing I am to her. She doesn’t get the whole female empowerment thing.”

  Eliot’s laugh was so effusive it caused me to relax, though only marginally. “I guess that’s fair. Still, I want my mother to at least understand why we’re together.”

  “I’m not sure she’s ready for that. She’s had a specific dream for a long time, and that involved you going home with her. She has to recognize this is your home before she can move forward.”

  “No, she has to recognize you are my home,” Eliot corrected. “As much as I enjoy this area — and I do — I could settle someplace else if it became necessary. You would have to be there with me, though.”

  That was an interesting way to phrase it. “Are you trying to get lucky this morning before you go? If so, that was a nice start.”