4 Shot Off The Presses (5 page)

Well this was getting ugly – uglier – pretty quick. I was definitely missing something here and I had a feeling that something had something to do with Eliot’s weird reaction this morning.

Jake didn’t rise to the bait. “Why wouldn’t you return my calls?”

“I told you I was busy.”

“With Avery?”

“Partly. I do run this base, in case you forgot. That’s five thousand men under my command. I don’t always have time to bend to the every whim of the county sheriff.”

“Every whim?” Jake looked incredulous. He swung on me suddenly, hands on his narrow hips. “What did he say to you?”

I shrugged. “He just wanted to make it clear that the freeway shooter had nothing to do with the military base.” I didn’t see any reason to lie. Something suddenly
dawned on me. “Hey, why aren’t you at the press conference at the sheriff’s department?”

“It was postponed until this afternoon.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? Do I have to have a reason? I’m the sheriff.”

“You usually do have a reason,” I argued.

I could see Commander Turner watching us interact out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t like it. “We’re done, right?” I turned back to him.

“We are,” he nodded. “I trust that I will find fair and balanced coverage in tomorrow’s edition.”

“Sure, whatever,” I waved him off and turned to Jake. “What time is the new press conference?”

“After lunch.”

“You’re not going to tell me why it was postponed?”

Jake’s eyes were fixed angrily on Commander Turner. He turned to me when he realized I was still there. “What?”

“Why was the press conference postponed?”

“The victim died. We needed more time to get the correct information together.”

“She died?” That was sad, and enough to elevate his story from passing interest to all-out panic in certain motorist circles.

“Can we talk about this later?” Jake asked irritably. “I need to have a discussion with Leonard.”

“It looks more like you’re going to beat the crap out of each other,” I said.

Jake shot me his death look. “I will talk to you later.”

“Goodbye, Ms. Shaw,” Leonard agreed.

I guess I’d been dismissed.

After an uncomfortable ride with Sgt. Harmon back to my car – one where we didn’t say a single word to one another – I was back on the highway within five minutes and back at The Monitor within fifteen.

When I got to the office, I strode straight to Fish’s desk purposely. “Well that was fun, and I by fun I mean painful.”

Fish didn’t look up. “You’re always so dramatic.”

“I’m not dramatic.”

“You are dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic and I resent you saying I’m dramatic.” Suddenly a memory from the previous night flashed in my mind, the one where Lexie said she wasn’t high maintenance. I pushed the thought out as quickly as I let it in. Who needs that?

Fish finished typing whatever he was working on and finally glanced in my direction. “Please tell me you didn’t go to the air base dressed like that.”

“Funnily enough, you’re less pissed off than Commander Turner was.”

“What did he say?” Fish narrowed his eyes. It was one thing for him to pick on my outfit. It was quite another for someone else to do it.

“Let’s just say he’s not a big fan of the
Thundercats
.”

“
Thundercats
?” Fish looked confused.

I gestured down to my black and orange cat-striped shoes, which featured a big-bosomed cat woman in all her glory. “She’s got a nice rack,” Fish said finally.

“She does,” I agreed.

“So, what did he want?”

“He wanted to make sure we knew that the freeway shooter had nothing to do with the base.”

Fish didn’t look surprised. “I figured it was something like that. What do you think?”

“I think that he’s trying really hard to distance the base from this shooting.”

“And?”

“And? And that makes me think that he’s knows something, or he’s really worried about something. Or he’s trying to misdirect us from something.”

“Like?”

“How should I know? I was with the man for twenty minutes.”

Fish smirked. “Something tells me you’re going to find out what he’s trying to hide.”

“You make me sound petty.”

“That’s one of your virtues,” Fish brushed off my petulance. “Just make sure you don’t let your investigation into Turner get in the way of your coverage on this story.”

“Like I would do that,” I scoffed.

Fish rolled his eyes. “You always do that.”

“It always works out,” I countered.

“You do have a certain knack,” Fish agreed.

“On that note,” I started to move away. “The victim died.”

“How do you know that?”

I told Fish about seeing Jake at Turner’s office, omitting the parts about the antagonistic nature of their interaction. I wanted to keep that to myself – for now, at least.

“What was Farrell doing with Turner?” Fish asked curiously.

“Probably the same thing I was,” I said. “Except he knows more about the shooting, which means that it was probably a pretty hard shot and that led him to the military.”

“Well, Turner isn’t going to like that,” Fish mused.

“He didn’t seem to.”

Fish was quiet while he thought for a second and then turned back to me. “You’re going to the press conference.”

“Why? I thought I would be the one going to the family. You were going to send Duncan to the press conference.”

“Now I’m sending you.”

“Why?”

“Because you have better connections with the sheriff’s department,” Fish said succinctly.

“Jake? He’s not exactly feeding me exclusives these days,” I grumbled.

“And Derrick.”

“He never feeds me exclusives,” I shot back.

“They’ll still talk to you. They still give you tips and hints. They don’t do that with anyone else.”

“And they won’t talk to Duncan?” The minute I asked the question I realized the stupidity of it. Duncan was the office tool for a reason.

“No one talks to Duncan twice,” Fish agreed. “Once they’ve met him, it’s pretty much over. You can’t spend five minutes with the guy and not realize he’s a total douche.”

“So you think it’s a good idea to send him to a grieving family?”

“I’ll figure something out,” Fish waved off my concerns. “I just know I want you at the press conference.”

“Great,” I muttered and wandered back to my desk. I found Marvin loitering in the walkway amongst the cubicles. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Marvin looked instantly guilty.

“Well, that was convincing.”

Marvin glanced around the busy cubicles conspiratorially. “I’ve got a new mission in life.”

Oh, good. I love Marvin, but he has a new mission in life every week. Last week it was to stop trolling AA meetings for women. He found out that, even though a lot of them were needy, they weren’t willing to go out to his favorite bar every night like he wanted. And worse, when they did, they fell off the wagon hard and usually started stalking him. Yeah, he didn’t really think that one through.

“What’s your new mission? Are you going to get in shape with that mechanical belt you strap around your waist again?”

“No. I still maintain that was false advertising, though.”

“Back to meditation in the park?”

“No. There are too many bugs there.”

“So, what’s your new mission?”

“I’m going to seize the day.”

Huh, where to go with this, where to go with this? “I don’t know what that means,” I said finally.

“I almost died last night.”

Oh, well, this wasn’t new. Marvin is an outstanding reporter, but he’s the biggest hypochondriac in the world. “How?”

“I was walking in the parking lot of the Roost last night.” The Roost is his favorite bar. “And I was almost hit by a car.”

“Were you drunk?”

“No.”

“How close were you to the car?”

“It was like ten feet,” Marvin said seriously.

“That’s not very close.”

“I saw my life flashing before my eyes.”

“And what did you see?”

“It wasn’t much,” Marvin admitted. “It was a steady stream of women and drinks with nothing of substance attached to it.”

Oh, good, he was feeling existential today. “So you’re going to start going to that weird church again?”

“It wasn’t weird. It was a real church.”

“It was a motivational church,” I corrected him. “Self-empowerment and all that. Chanting.”

“That’s still a thing.”

“Fine,” I conceded. “It’s a thing. A thing with chanting.”

“Anyway,” Marvin was looking irritated now. “I realized I don’t have anything to anchor me to this life.”

“You want to be anchored to this life? Why?”

“I mean there’s no one here who will remember me when I’m gone.”

“I’ll remember you,” I said hurriedly. Like I could forget.

“Oh, please,” Marvin said dismissively. “You’ll die before I do. You live a reckless life.”

“Nice.”

“It’s the truth.”

Sadly, it was. “Where are you going to find this anchor?”

“I’m going to get married,” Marvin boldly announced.

“To who?”

“I haven’t decided yet, that’s where you come in.”

Uh-oh. “I’m not marrying you.”

“Like I would want to marry you,” Marvin scoffed. “You’re mean.”

“I’m not mean.” Even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true. I idle at mean some days – and then I accelerate to evil when I have PMS.

“I need you to introduce me to someone.”

“Someone to marry?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know anyone that would be right for you,” I said carefully.

“What about that friend of yours? Carly?”

“She’s already engaged,” I reminded him.

“That means she’s serious about marriage.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “To Kyle, not you.”

“Still, you could set it up.”

“No, I couldn’t,” I argued.

“Please?” He looked so sad.

“No.”

“Fine!” Marvin whirled and stalked back to his cubicle. “I told you that you were mean.”

“Whatever.”

“You guys argue like you’re married.”

I glanced up and saw Brick watching us with an amused – and somewhat disdainful – look on his face. “Brick.”

“Avery.”

“Can I do something for you?”

“I just heard you talking to Fish.”

“Good?” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“I think it’s typical that a liberal swine like yourself would naturally assume the military is involved in this.”

“Why do you care?” I ignored the liberal swine remark. I couldn’t muster the energy to be offended by a guy with the name of Brick.

“I’m a veteran.”

“I think I already knew that,” I pointed out. “That still doesn’t explain why you’ve got your panties in a bunch about this.”

“I don’t wear panties,” Brick looked incensed.

“I heard they were camouflage.” Sometimes I like to poke angry little bears just for the hell of it.

“There’s a reason why everyone in this office thinks you’re an asshole,” Brick shot back.

“Really? I was going for bitchy, not asshole. I’ll adjust to get the outcome I want, though,” I replied breezily.

Brick narrowed his angry brown eyes on me. “I can’t believe someone hasn’t shot you yet.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Marvin was back in the aisle and regarding Brick angrily. “You can’t talk to her like that.”

“Like what? You said she was mean,” Brick reminded him.

“Yeah, but you’re being a dick.”

“I am not.”

“You are, too.”

This was spinning out of control. “I’m going to leave you girls to your hair-pulling fight,” I said quickly. “I’ve got a press conference to get to.”

“That’s still hours away,” Marvin said angrily.

“Yeah, well, waiting in a quiet room surrounded by cops sounds better than hanging out with you two right now.”

I cast one last glance down the aisle as I left and found Marvin and Brick still eyeing each other reproachfully. There must be something in the air today. All the men in my world were going steadily crazy.

Once I got back out to the parking lot I considered my next move. I had no intention of really going to the sheriff’s department two hours prior to the actual event. Trust me, cops aren’t generally fun party people. You don’t want to spend any more time with them than you have to. Since I already knew Jake was in a terrible mood, I wanted to give him a chance to settle down before I started incessantly poking him for information.

That left Eliot.

I drove to downtown Mount Clemens and slid into a spot at the front of his pawnshop on Main Street. I disengaged the engine of the car and then sat back in my seat and watched him work from a safe distance.

He hadn’t seen me yet, obviously, and I was enjoying the rare glimpse into his life when he wasn’t aware anyone was watching him. He was a fine specimen of masculinity, all hard muscles, bright eyes and soft smiles. He was more, though. I watched as he helped a woman try to decide between two watches in his front display case, offering her an easy laugh and some little tidbit about one of the watches. The truth was, he was a genuinely nice guy. A genuinely nice guy that could snap your neck in three seconds flat, of course.

Eliot’s past was murkier than his present. I didn’t really know a lot about it frankly. It wasn’t that he was especially tight-lipped; he just wasn’t one of those guys that volunteered information out of the blue. And, the truth was, I hadn’t pushed him too hard. I had wanted the relationship to grow organically. Of course, the fact that I kept finding myself in mortal peril – and crossing paths with my ex-boyfriend in the form of the county sheriff – could have something to do with that, too.

Eliot and Jake had a tortured past of their own. I knew they had been in a Special Forces unit of the military together – which I was starting to believe had caused both of them to have a few run-ins with Leonard Turner at some point in time – and that time together in Special Forces hadn’t exactly bonded them. Jake thought Eliot was a bit of a loose cannon and, in turn, Eliot thought Jake was a bit of a tight ass. They both had a point.

Since Eliot had entered my orbit, the two men had started running into each other more frequently. A couple of times, they had even worked together to extricate me from some untenable situation that I had managed to get myself into. There was also an underlying sense of tension regarding my romantic entanglement with Eliot. Jake didn’t come out and say he was jealous, but he acted that way occasionally. On the flip side, Eliot showed flashes of jealousy himself when he saw me interacting with Jake.

It was like a tower of cans that could topple at any second.

I was busy trying to decide how to approach Eliot about my suspicions regarding Turner when I heard a knock at my car window. I jumped, glancing up through the glass, and frowning when I saw Eliot standing there. How did I miss him leaving the store and heading this way?

I rolled down the car window and fixed a tight smile on my face as I greeted him. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing?”

“Debating about getting coffee,” I lied.

Eliot considered me for a second and then shook his head slightly. “How was your meeting with Turner?”

He knew me too well. “It was tense,” I admitted, opening my door and climbing out of the car.

“Tense how?”

I told Eliot about my interview with Turner, including Jake’s abrupt entrance and irritated countenance. I watched him carefully for his reaction. “That sounds about right,” he said finally.

“Why do you say that?”

I saw the set of Eliot’s jaw tighten. “Let’s just say Jake and I both have had some dealings with Turner and leave it at that.”

Like that was going to work. “You know I can’t leave it at that.”

“Well, you’re going to have to,” Eliot said stiffly.

I bit the inside of my lip and looked Eliot up and down. His usually affable demeanor had suddenly gone rigid. This probably wasn’t the time to push him. I would gather some more information and then ambush him later tonight.

“Fine,” I said finally. “I need to get some coffee and get to the press conference anyway.”

“I thought the press conference was this morning?”

“It got postponed. The victim died.”

“That’s too bad,” Eliot said. “So you’re going to the sheriff’s department?”

“Yup,” I said breezily, starting to move towards the coffee shop that was next to Eliot’s store. “I want to get there early. If you’re not going to tell me the deal with Turner, I guess I’ll just have to badger Jake until he does.”

“You really think that will work? That Jake will just bow to your will and give you the information you want?” Eliot didn’t look like he believed in my super power – which was a little disheartening.

“Yeah, well,” I paused in the open door. “I know exactly what buttons to push in Jake to get what I want.” With that parting shot I flounced into the coffee shop. I risked one backwards glance to see Eliot’s reaction and I was rewarded with an open scowl. Good. He deserved it.

I relaxed with a cup of coffee for a half an hour before I headed towards the sheriff’s department.  By the time I got there I was forty-five minutes early, but I figured that would give me a chance to push Derrick – and maybe Jake, too – for information before the other media vultures arrived.

I used the main entrance to the sheriff’s department, traded barbed jibes with the officer behind the protective bubble, and then stuck out my tongue at him until he buzzed me into the inner hallway that led to the sheriff’s conference room.

The officer behind the bubble, after telling me I was early, had admonished me to go straight to the conference room and not loiter in the hallway. I had promised I would, but that was a promise I had no intention of keeping.

I headed towards Derrick’s small office first, not bothering to knock on the door, which was partially closed, and instead strode inside like I belonged there. Derrick was sitting at his desk working on paperwork. He glanced up when he saw me and then looked back down at his paperwork before shooting out of his desk chair when it registered who had actually entered his office. “Knock much?”

“Sure,” I said gratingly. “Knock, knock.”

Derrick slid back down into his chair and turned his attention back to his work, but not before shooting me his special brand of stink eye.

“You’re supposed to ask who’s there,” I prodded Derrick.

“I’m not playing your games.”

“You’re a true joy to be around, has anyone ever told you that?”

“You just did.”

I watched Derrick work for a few minutes, dropping a few well-timed sighs as I did. Since Derrick wasn’t biting on the sighs, I decided to push the situation in my own way. Dangerous, yes, I know.

“So, what do you know about Jake’s past with Leonard Turner?”

Derrick actually looked surprised at the question. He stopped what he was doing and raised his chocolate eyes to mine curiously. “Why would you ask that?”

I told Derrick about my run-in with both Turner and Jake earlier in the day and waited for his reaction. It wasn’t what I was expecting.

“You’re kidding.”

“No,” I shook my head. “Are you telling me you had no idea that Jake and Turner were trading verbal punches this morning?”

“I thought he went to the hospital to give his condolences to the shooting victim’s family,” Derrick said.

“Is that what he told you?”

“No, that’s what he implied.” Derrick realized – too late – that he had told me too much. I didn’t let that dissuade me, though.

“So, don’t you think it’s funny that Jake went and orally pulled Turner’s hair?”

“That’s a nice visual,” Derrick grumbled. “I honestly don’t know anything about Turner and Jake. I had no idea they even knew each other.”

Well, that was disappointing. “So, would it surprise you if I told you Eliot had sort of a negative reaction to finding out I was interviewing Turner, too?”

Derrick pursed his lips and considered the statement. “Surprise isn’t the word. It is weird, though.”

“Definitely weird.”

“What did Eliot tell you?”

“He’s being tight-lipped.”

“Is that unusual for him? He doesn’t strike me as the chatty type.”

“He’s not the hiding stuff type either, though,” I pointed out. “Usually, if I ask him a direct question, he answers it.”

“Did you ask him why he wouldn’t answer it?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I just started internally plotting how I was going to trick him into answering it.”

“That sounds like a healthy relationship,” Derrick scoffed.

“He’s already irritated with the Lexie situation,” I replied. “I’m scared to push things too far in case he snaps.”

Derrick narrowed his eyes. Lexie was his baby sister and, while they didn’t always get along, Derrick had found himself in the same rescuing situation with Lexie more times that he could count. “What did she do now?”

“Nothing,” I said hurriedly. “She just drives Eliot nuts.”

“She drives everyone nuts,” be said. “Bonkers nuts. Almonds. Cashews. Peanuts. Nuts. Nuts. Nuts.”

“She has a certain ability,” I agreed. “That’s her super power.”

“Super power?”

“Eliot’s is looking good in the morning. Mine is digging up dirt on people. Hers is driving people nuts.”

“What’s mine?” Derrick asked curiously.

I got to my feet and moved towards the door, glancing back at him teasingly. “Convincing people that you’re tall enough to be a cop?”

I escaped out the door quickly, but not before I heard Derrick swear under his breath. At 5’5” tall, Derrick wasn’t exactly your stereotypical cop – a fact that drove him to distraction. It was also the scab on his psyche that I constantly picked at. Hey, that’s what family is for.

I wandered into the conference room down the hall, helping myself to a cookie and glancing around to see what local news personalities had arrived. I recognized two print reporters from area weeklies, and one of the television reporters from Channel 4, Devon, who had unfortunately been dating Derrick for the past few months. Since she was only about 5’2” tall, Derrick was actually taller than her. I figured that was the appeal.

Devon smiled warily at me. We had a tempestuous past – and it wasn’t entirely based on the fact that print reporters and broadcast reporters generally loathe one another.

“Hi,” Devon finally spoke.

“Hey.”

“How are things?”

“Same old, same old.”

“So, what do you think they’re going to say at the press conference?”

I shrugged. “Press conference stuff?”

“Well, that’s very helpful,” Devon sniped. “Why do you always have to be such a pain?”

“I was born this way. Just ask my mom.”

“Yeah, she does think you’re a total pain in the ass.”

I rolled my eyes. Devon’s constant attempts to ingratiate herself with my family were something akin to nails on a chalkboard – or, more aptly, watered down whiskey. “Yes, well, you would know,” I shot back. “You’ve known my family for a whole, what, four months now?”

“Six,” Devon corrected me.

“It’s been a long six months.”

“It really has,” Devon agreed.

I glanced up when I saw a figure standing in the doorway. If I weren’t already irritated, the sight of the Channel 7 reporter – Shelly Waters – would have sent me right over the edge.

Shelly had only been in the area for a few weeks, but she was already my least favorite television reporter in the market – and that’s saying something, especially since I disdain all broadcast reporters on general principle. The fact that she had been dating Jake for several weeks only added to my hate.

“Avery,” Shelly greeted me primly.

“Shelly,” I grimaced.

“You’re looking particularly  . . . casual today.”

“You look like the same bitch I remember,” I shot back happily.

Devon snorted behind me. The one thing we had in common was dislike of Shelly. It was our only bonding agent.

“You have a terrible attitude,” Shelly said stiffly.

“News flash,” Derrick said, stepping into the room behind Shelly. He was eyeing Shelly warily – he had seen us throw down a couple of times before and he looked ready to step in if things spiraled out of control. “She’s had a terrible attitude since we were kids.”

Shelly shot a flirtatious smile in Derrick’s direction. “You poor dear, having to grow up with her. It must have been terrible for you.”

Devon obviously didn’t like the new direction of Shelly’s attention because she stepped between the Channel 7 reporter and Derrick and gave him a brief hug in way of a greeting. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Derrick smiled sloppily.

Oh, jeez. “Shouldn’t this be starting soon?”

“Jake is in his office getting his notes,” Derrick replied.

“Oh, maybe I’ll go say hi,” Shelly said suddenly. I had heard, through the grapevine – yes, Derrick – that Jake had ended his dalliance with Shelly rather suddenly a few days ago.