3 Buried Leads (11 page)

After the press conference – which equated to a big pile of nothing – I was getting ready to leave the sheriff’s department when Derrick approached me. “Come to my office,” he said in a low whisper.

I followed Derrick dutifully. I was still reeling from him coming to my aid in the Shelly fight. When we got to his office, Derrick closed the door behind us. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t need you to ride in with your white hat – even though I appreciate it.”

“I don’t like her,” Derrick said finally. That was pretty much as close to a compliment – and cease fire -- as we were going to be able to maintain.

“What did you want to tell me?” I asked him, changing the subject.

“I can’t give you specifics,” Derrick said. “You know that.”

“Then why did you call me in here?”

“I wanted to make sure that she was gone before you left,” he said honestly. “I didn’t want to have another crime scene in the parking lot if I could help it. You’d beat the shit out of her and then I’d get stuck with the paperwork – and explaining to your mom why you’re spending the night in jail.”

Yeah, no one wanted that.

“By the way, can you get her to stop texting me?”

“No, I can’t get her to stop texting me,” I said ruefully.

“She’s starting to follow me around on Facebook, too,” Derrick added.

“Get used to that.”

Derrick sighed. He knew there was nothing I could do, so I don’t know why he would even ask.

“Are you guys watching Brian Frank?” I changed topics.

“We’re investigating the case,” Derrick said evasively.

“That means yes.”

“That means we’re investigating the case,” Derrick affirmed.

“Are you watching the au pair, too?”

Derrick sighed. “She’s probably gone now. It’s probably safe for you to leave.”

I took the hint and left. I didn’t need him to confirm it for me anyway. I knew that the police were holding their cards incredibly close to their vests for a reason. I could figure out why on my own.

I headed back to the office, but not before I looked to see if Shelly was in the parking lot. The Channel 7 news truck was still there – but there was no Shelly in sight. She was probably still inside tattling to Jake. I could only hope Derrick didn’t get in any trouble for taking my side. If he did, there was going to be a rather loud fight in the sheriff’s personal office in the next few days.

When I got back into the office, I saw that a couple of reporters were grouped around Duncan’s desk and watching something on his computer. It was probably that hilarious video about the news reporter going ghetto in the middle of a story on YouTube. We rediscovered it periodically – and it was always funny.

“Nothing new at the press conference,” I announced to Fish as I approached his desk.

“So nothing happened at the press conference?” He raised an eyebrow as he regarded me.

Crap. What had Duncan told him?

“No,” I said evasively. “Nothing we didn’t already know. She’s still missing.”

“So you didn’t get in a fight with the Channel 7 reporter?”

“Define fight.”

Fish fixed me with a tired look.

“There might have been some words exchanged,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“I don’t like her.”

“You don’t like any television reporters, none of us do, but you usually don’t get in big bitch fights with them at the sheriff’s department.”

Not that he knew of, at least. It’s not like it was the first time. Devon and I had exchanged words a few times. Ironically, that had also happened at the sheriff’s department.
And a couple of crime scenes. And the family restaurant.

“She started it,” I protested.

“You didn’t have to engage,” Fish argued. We both exchanged a look. That wasn’t true. I can’t stop myself from engaging.

“I’m sorry,” I said finally.

“It won’t happen again?”

We both knew I couldn’t promise that. “It won’t happen again . . . I hope.”

“Fine,” Fish said. “Where do you go from here?”

“I’m going to try and find the au pair,” I said simply.

“Do you think it will be that easy?”

“Probably not.
I think she knows something, though. That’s why the cops are trying to hide her so desperately.”

“Is she still working at the house?”

“As far as I know.”

I heard the reporters grouped around Duncan’s desk laughing maniacally. “What are they looking at? Did Duncan take the point-of-view camera to a Civil War reenactment and forget that the war has been over for more than two hundred years?”

“No,” Fish replied. “He taped you fighting with the Channel 7 reporter.”

“He did not!”

“He did, and he’s showing everyone in the room.”

“Why didn’t you stop him?”

“Why would I? It’s funny.”

I hate these people. If that shows up on YouTube, Duncan is going to be sorry.

After filing my story from today’s press conference, I found myself at a loss. Not only was I plotting retribution for Duncan, but I was also at a wall I couldn’t quite see over. I needed to learn more about the au pair, but all I had was a first name. I figured I would probably need some help on this. I couldn’t go to the police – because they had no intention of helping me – so that left Eliot.

We had agreed to have dinner and spend the night together at his place again. What can I say? He’s addictive. Plus, Lexie and her yoga obsession were making my two-bedroom house seem even smaller than it was.

I left work and returned home long enough to pack more clothes in a bag and change my outfit. Eliot hadn’t said where we were going, so I settled on simple black pants and a billowy top from Express. I ran my straightening iron over my hair, touched up my makeup, and left a note for
Lexie. I didn’t know if she was at work or at the gym – but I figured she would be just as relieved to have me out of the house, as I was to be out of it.

I drove to Eliot’s place and knocked on the door. He opened it, greeting me with a warm hug and a kiss.

“How was your day?” He asked, taking my bag from me.

“Interesting,” I said briefly.

Eliot raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t question me further. At least for now. Instead, he led me into the bathroom and opened one of the drawers. It was empty. “I figured you could keep some of your stuff here so you didn’t have to keep packing a bag everyday.”

“You’re giving me a drawer?” I was surprised, and touched.

“It’s not a big deal,” I could see his cheeks redden slightly. “I emptied out some drawers in the bedroom, too.”

“Thanks.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say to him. It felt like things were moving incredibly fast – and yet it felt comfortable.

Eliot reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He handed it to me wordlessly.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a key to the apartment,” he said. “I figured that way you could just let yourself in if you need to.”

I was stunned. “You trust me in your place? Alone?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m nosy,” I admitted.

“I have nothing to hide.”

Eliot and I decided to drive over to Hall Road so we could have a nice seafood dinner. Once we were seated and had ordered, Eliot turned his attention back to me. “So what did you do today?”

“There was a press conference at the sheriff’s department.”

“Anything new?”

“Absolutely nothing.
They’re holding daily press conferences there, though.”

Eliot looked surprised. “Why?”

“I don’t know. The way they’re approaching this case is just really odd.”

“I agree. They know a lot more than they’re saying.”

“Derrick says they’re keeping surveillance on Brian Frank.”

“He told you that?” Eliot looked startled.

“No, he said they’re investigating the case, but I could tell by the way he wouldn’t answer me.”

“Only you would say something like that,” Eliot laughed.

“I know him,” I said simply. “He can’t lie to me. He can evade, but I know when he’s lying.”

“Does he know when you’re lying?” Eliot asked curiously.

“Yep.”

“Did anything else happen?” Eliot was eying me purposefully.

Crap. What had he heard? “That’s all that happened regarding the case,” I said finally.

“So, you didn’t get in a fight with Shelly?”

“Who told you that?”

“It’s on YouTube.”

“I’m going to kill Duncan,” I muttered.

“Why were you fighting with her?”

“She started it.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“She has an issue with me.”

“You have an issue with her, too,” Eliot pointed out.

“I have an issue with . . . “

“All television reporters, I know,” Eliot interrupted. “You really don’t like her, though. Is it because of Jake?”

“No,” I said. Although, I wasn’t sure if that was true. “I don’t like the way she’s always following me around. Trying to find out what I know. That’s not how this business works. We don’t do the legwork for each other. We try to win.”

“And this is just about winning?”

“Yes.”

Eliot let it go. We ate our meal in compatible silence. When we were done, Eliot led me out of the restaurant by my hand. “I want to meet the au pair,” I said finally.

“Why?”

“Because I think she knows something.”

“What is it with you and the au pair?” Eliot seemed genuinely curious.

“I think it’s weird that everyone is trying to keep her a secret. That automatically piques my curiosity.”

“I don’t think she knows anything,” Eliot said.

“Have you questioned her?”

“I’ve talked to her. She seems like a young girl from another country who is confused by what is going on.”

“Is she hot?”

Eliot barked out a laugh. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just a question.”

“She’s attractive,” Eliot ceded. “I don’t know if I would call her hot, but she’s cute.”

“Do you think Brian Frank had anything going on with her?”

Eliot looked surprised. “Why would you ask that?” That wasn’t an answer to my question.

“An older man seducing the naïve nanny is an old story,” I supplied.

“I haven’t seen anything that would make me think they’re sleeping together,” Eliot said.

“But you have your suspicions?”

Eliot sighed as he looked at me. “You really are better at this than people give you credit for.”

“So, they are sleeping together?”

“I don’t know that,” Eliot cautioned. “I just get a weird vibe from them.”

“Like they’re humping like bunnies?”

Eliot shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “Maybe,” he conceded.

“Have you asked her?”

“You don’t just come out and ask something like that,” Eliot admonished me.

I would. “Can you arrange a meeting between us?”

“I can try,” Eliot said.

That was a start.

I woke up in a tangle of arms, legs and a pile of tousled hair. I could feel Eliot breathing deeply beside me. He was still asleep. I took a few minutes to just enjoy the feeling.

“What are you thinking about?”

Apparently Eliot wasn’t asleep. “How warm you feel,” I said honestly.

“I would have preferred you calling me hot,” Eliot teased.

“I don’t want your head to get any bigger than it already is.”

Eliot and I showered together – which took longer than it probably should – and then we had a quick breakfast of toast and juice standing up at the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing today?” I asked him.

“I’m going out to the Frank house to check in and see if I can get the au pair to talk to you. I’ll call you on your cell if I work something out.”

“Thanks.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have my now daily briefing at the sheriff’s department. After that, I’m not sure.”

Eliot walked me downstairs, giving me a quick kiss on the street in front of the pawnshop. “If you’re spending all your time with Brian Frank, who is running the shop?”

“I have employees for that,” Eliot smiled.

A loud car horn blared on the street in front of us. I looked up to see Duncan parked in the slot next to my car and eying me impatiently. “We have to go,” he yelled.

“Who is that?”

“The office tool.”

“Why is he here?”

“That’s a really good question.”

I walked to the side of Duncan’s car. “What are you doing here?”

“Making sure that you make it to the press conference on time,” Duncan said dismissively.

“I know how to do my job,” I countered.

“Not everyone thinks that,” Duncan scoffed.

Eliot moved to my side and regarded Duncan with a serious expression. “Can I help you?”

“Who are you?” Duncan asked.

“Eliot Kane.”

“The private investigator working for Brian Frank?” Duncan looked incredulous. “You’re interviewing him without me present? I’m telling Fish.”

“I wasn’t interviewing him,” I argued.

“Then what were you doing?”

Eliot slid me a sly glance. I pretended I didn’t notice. “That’s none of your business. How did you even know I was here?”

“I saw your car. It’s not like anyone else has
Star Wars
stickers on their car.”

“I’ll be over at the sheriff’s department in a few minutes. Why don’t you go on without me?” I prodded.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get a coffee and then head over there,” I blew out a sigh.

“This is the idiot with the camera,” Eliot said suddenly. “The one with the camera strapped to his head at the candlelight vigil.”

“I’ll have you know that’s a state-of-the-art piece of equipment,” Duncan shot back.

“You got it at Radio Shack for $100,” I pointed out.

“When I win an award for this video, you won’t think it’s so funny.”

“I’ll always think it’s funny.”

“Is this the guy that filmed you fighting with the Channel 7 reporter?” Eliot asked.

Speaking of that. “By the way, Duncan, if that’s still up on YouTube when I get back to the office this afternoon I’m going to tell everyone that your wife left you for a Central American drug lord.”

It was common knowledge in the office that Duncan’s wife, a beautiful Hispanic woman, hadn’t been living with him for several months. After sending money to her mom in Central America every week for a year, she had
went down to visit her mom three months ago – and hadn’t returned.

“That is not true!” Duncan practically shrieked.

“And not only did she leave you, but you’re spending your time watching gay porn to deal with your abandonment issues,” I continued.

“I’m not gay!” No, Duncan isn’t gay. He is a rampant homophobe that owns
Brokeback Mountain
, though. Make your own conclusions.

“When I’m done telling the story, you’ll be one step away from dancing naked in that homosexual
Cabaret
revival in Ferndale,” I threatened.

Duncan jumped out of the car and moved towards me. His face was red with rage. Eliot stepped between us smoothly.

“You clearly have issues,” he said to Duncan.

“And she doesn’t?”

“I don’t care about her issues. If you touch her, though, you won’t be touching anything again for a very long time – and that includes yourself when you’re watching your gay porn.”

Eliot has a funny sense of humor sometimes.

“Are you threatening me?” Duncan was incensed.

“Yes,” Eliot said simply.

“I could report you to the police,” Duncan whined.

“You could. That will only make me angry, though. And you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.”

You’ve got to love a guy that quotes
The Incredible Hulk
. Well, at least in my world.

Duncan opened his mouth to unload what I’m sure was a ridiculous retort. Instead, he snapped his mouth shut.

“Good boy,” Eliot poked him.

I turned to Duncan. “There’s no sense of you going to the sheriff’s department. Why don’t you go out to the neighborhood and see if you can get any of the neighbors to talk on the record?”

That was a fruitless endeavor. The neighbors were agitated with the constant media presence and had started putting signs up on their windows warning the press to stay away. I figured letting them take their angst out on Duncan would be a lot more fun – for me at least – than spending time with him at the sheriff’s department.

“Fine,” Duncan nodded curtly. I noticed him shoot another venomous glance in Eliot’s direction. Like a typical bully, though, Duncan was too scared to actually confront someone like Eliot.

Eliot and I watched as Duncan got back in his car and sped away. “That guy is a total douche.”

“He knows. Everyone knows.”

“How is he still employed?”

“He’s a chronic complainer. Plus, we have a union.”

Eliot nodded briefly. “I figured it had to be something like that. The guy has no people skills.”

“Most people think he’s normal for the first three days, or so. After that, he can’t hide that he’s a total tool.”

“I think that’s the problem,” Eliot said.

“What is?”

“He’s got a really small tool.”

I’d often thought that, too.