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  On Deadline & Under Fire

  An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 13

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Copyright © 2018 by Amanda M. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty-One

  22. Twenty-Two

  23. Twenty-Three

  24. Twenty-Four

  25. Twenty-Five

  26. Twenty-Six

  27. Twenty-Seven

  28. Twenty-Eight

  29. Twenty-Nine

  30. Thirty

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Prologue

  Twelve Years Ago

  “What are you doing out here?”

  I found my grandfather kicking huge piles of leaves behind the restaurant he owned, a scowl on his face. His brow was large and often seemed over pronounced, at times reminding me of Frankenstein’s monster. This was one of those times.

  He flicked his eyes to me, clearly surprised to be caught doing … well, whatever it was he was doing. “What are you doing out here?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “I asked you second.”

  “First come, first served.”

  “Grandpa.” He thumped his chest. “Granddaughter.” He pointed at me.

  “Fine. Be that way.” I rolled my eyes and sucked in a breath. “Have you ever considered that I merely came out here to check on you? I mean … you are my grandfather. I have your very best interests at heart.”

  “Oh, who are you trying to snow?” Grandpa was clearly in a bad mood and I doubted very much it was because the weather looked to be taking a turn. That’s why I was in a bad mood. I hated winter with a fiery passion. He actually liked it because it meant more snowmobilers and skiers visiting the restaurant. Apparently he preferred money to climate comfort.

  “I was telling the truth.”

  “Is this like the time you painted ‘Avery Shaw rules’ on the side of my shed and claimed you put it there because you wanted me to be happy about how much you ruled?”

  That seemed a loaded question. “I believe that I told you I didn’t paint that. It could’ve been anyone. I can’t think of a single person who doesn’t know that I rule.”

  “And I believe I told you that you needed to work on your lying.”

  Ugh. He was so much work. I didn’t understand how anyone could put up with him. I was a lot of work, too. I recognized that. People enjoyed their work when it came to me, though. Er, well, at least I enjoyed myself when others were working. Yeah, that was a more truthful statement.

  “Why are we even talking about this?” I decided to switch tactics. “I’m out here because you’re my favorite grandfather. That should make you happy.”

  “Oh, knock it off.” Grandpa turned back to the overbearing pile of leaves and frowned. “You’re out here because your aunt told your mother that you and Jake were caught making out behind the school earlier today and your mother is on a human reproductive explanation kick that would have the Vatican kicking her out of the Church.”

  “I still maintain that Aunt Evil couldn’t have seen that because we were very well hidden.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I also maintain that she shouldn’t have tattled on me like a great big tattle-taler of doom,” I added.

  “Well, I’ll give you that one,” Grandpa conceded. “No one likes a snitch.”

  “I’m going to pay her back.”

  “I’m sure you will.”

  “It’s going to be mean and nasty, and not like that time she told Uncle Tim that she caught chlamydia from the toilet seat. It’s going to be much nastier than that.”

  Grandpa snorted. “If you’re trying to get me to say that you’re going to crush her – I know how important winning is to you – you won’t get a lot of argument from me today. She doesn’t have the brains to take you on. Tattling was a mistake.”

  “Especially since we have no idea what she was doing by the school,” I said. “I heard she’s been taking biology lessons from the science teacher.”

  “Really?” Grandpa was intrigued as he arched an eyebrow. “Do you have proof of that?”

  “No, but I’ll get it. I don’t care if I have to brave sub-zero temperatures in the dead of winter. I will get my proof and then I will blow her out of the water.”

  “I’m looking forward to the attempt.” Grandpa ran the back of his hand over his neck as he slid me a sidelong look. “Hey … do you want to make five dollars?”

  Was that a joke? “No.”

  “Come on. You’re always complaining you don’t have enough money.”

  “Yes, but I know you,” I supplied. “You’re going to ask me to do something ridiculous to earn five bucks and I only do ridiculous things if they’re for free and I can make someone I dislike cry.”

  Grandpa heaved out a sigh. “That is true. In fact, that’s one of my favorite things about you.”

  “That I can make people cry?”

  “That you can do it and feel no guilt, yeah.”

  “Well, I’m a master at that.” I rubbed my hands together to ward off the chill. “Seriously, what are you doing out here?”

  “The township inspector just came by.” Grandpa handed me a small piece of paper, which until he mentioned it, I hadn’t noticed despite it being clutched in his hand. “They’re going to fine me if I don’t get these leaves out of here.”

  No wonder he was hanging in the great outdoors. The township bigwigs were trying to bring him down. He always hated when that happened. It made him want to drink … and kick things … and throw bread. Thankfully I liked watching him do all those things.

  “This is a lot of leaves,” I said after a beat. “You’re going to need a lot of bags to get rid of them.”

  “I know. I’m also going to need someone to do the bagging because I’m not going to do it.”

  I didn’t blame him there. “If you’re only offering five bucks, you’ll need one of the stupid grandkids. I suggest Derrick.”

  Grandpa snorted. “Derrick isn’t stupid enough to clean up all these leaves for five bucks.”

  “He is if you tell him you’re paying fifty bucks.”

  “I don’t have fifty bucks to spare.”

  “Wait until after it’s done to tell him you accidentally added a zero to the number,” I suggested.

  Grandpa groaned. “That is a terrible idea. Come on. Think! You have a diabolical mind. You must know someone stupid enough to clean up these leaves for five bucks.”

  I didn’t know anyone daft enough to even walk outside the restaurant and consider dealing with these leaves for five dollars. He was going to have to go a different route. “You know, the notice doesn’t say you have to bag them. It just says you have to get rid of them.”

  Grandpa cocked an eyebrow. “So?”

&nb
sp; “So, for five bucks you can get a bottle of lighter fluid and we can burn them.”

  Appalled, Grandpa made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. “I can’t burn them. It could get out of hand. It’s windy today.”

  “Not if we watch the fire and keep it contained.”

  “But … .” Even though he didn’t want to agree with me, the look Grandpa shot in my direction was full of intrigue. “We could get in trouble if we’re caught.”

  “That’s why we wait until after dark so no one can see the smoke. Thankfully for us, it gets dark at, like, 5 p.m. these days. No one will even see.”

  “I don’t know,” Grandpa hedged. “Technically this is probably against several laws.”

  “Since when do you care about that?”

  “Since I promised your grandmother I wouldn’t spend Christmas in jail this year. She’s still upset about that Santa Claus kerfuffle from last year. How was I supposed to know the township hired him?”

  “You could’ve asked before you kicked him in the knee.”

  “Nuts.”

  “I was trying to give you an out.”

  “Yeah, well, you know how I feel when people laugh too loudly,” Grandpa complained. “That guy sounded like a hyena.”

  “He was annoying,” I agreed. “I think burning the leaves is your best bet. It will be over quickly. Even if we get caught we can lie and say we didn’t know it was against the rules. Ignorance is a great defense.”

  “Ignorance is no defense.”

  “It will be when I start crying to get us out of trouble.”

  Grandpa brightened considerably. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

  “Yay!” I clapped my hands. Who didn’t love a raging fire in high-wind conditions? “This is going to be so much fun.”

  “It might even be worth going to jail,” Grandpa agreed.

  I bobbed my head. “Definitely. I would love spending Christmas in jail rather than with Mom. At least in jail, I can get my ham without a side of grief.”

  “I’m really starting to like the way your mind works,” Grandpa supplied. “Have I told you that recently?”

  “No, but I already know that. I’m your favorite grandchild.”

  “You have your moments.” Grandpa dug into his wallet and came back with five bucks. “Go get some lighter fluid so we can be ready when it gets dark. Oh, and don’t tell anyone what we have planned. I don’t think the others will think it’s a good idea.”

  “That’s because we’re the smartest and they simply can’t keep up.”

  “Yup, I definitely like the way your mind works.”

  “It’s only going to get better from here.”

  “I look forward to seeing how it all turns out.”

  He wasn’t the only one.

  1 One

  Present Day

  “Move your feet.”

  Eliot Kane, a magazine in his hand and a surprised look on his face, slid me a sidelong look as I smacked at his toes. “Excuse me?”

  He was reclining on the couch, the sun shining through the great room windows as a breeze blew through the room, and he seemed to be relaxed. If anyone could change that, it was me.

  I’m Avery Shaw, after all. I didn’t get my reputation for being the number one cause of aneurysms and indigestion for no good reason. I earned every complaint … every whine … and every death threat. I’m just that good.

  “You heard me.” I smacked at Eliot’s bare feet. “Move them off the table.”

  Eliot, his long brown hair dipping past his shoulders, cocked his head as he studied me. “What is that feathery thing in your hand? Are you trying to play a game with me or something?”

  “No.”

  “Then … what’s with the feathers?”

  Ugh. He was being purposely annoying. There could be no other explanation. He’s usually the calm and cool one in our relationship – I’m the one who flies off the handle and finds trouble at every turn – so I could forgive him a momentary trespass in most situations. Today was different.

  “This is a feather duster.” I waved the item in question in front of his face. “It’s meant to pick up dust … or maybe move it around or something, I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s not supposed to be used for perverted games.”

  “Then I have no interest in it.” Eliot left his feet where they were planted and lifted the magazine. He was quiet for a beat, leaving me glaring at his profile, and then he slowly lowered the magazine to meet my gaze. “Wait … why are you dusting?”

  I should’ve expected the question. Although, to be fair, if he was paying better attention he would’ve asked it twenty minutes before. “Because the house is dusty.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since … I’ve never dusted before.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eliot has one of those stares that cuts right through you, sending chills down your spine and occasionally causes heart palpitations because he’s really hot and sexy. Today he was none of those things. Okay, he was a little intense with the staring, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. “How long have we been together?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t keep track of stuff like that.”

  Eliot was blasé about my irritated response. “More than a year, right?”

  “I guess.” I started counting on fingers as I did the math in my head. “Wow. We have been together for more than a year.”

  “We don’t technically have an anniversary date because our origins are somewhat murky,” Eliot noted. “We didn’t start dating and live happily ever after. We flirted, fought and I saved your life a few times before we even admitted we were dating.”

  He had a point. “To be fair, I admitted to a few people that we were dating but I asked them to keep their mouths shut so word wouldn’t get around. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

  Eliot snorted. He was used to my roundabout thinking, and it didn’t bother him in the least. In fact, he was so used to it he barely raised an eyebrow when I did something odd. Those things used to drive him crazy. Now he simply looked past them. “You’re so good to me,” Eliot teased. “Is it any wonder I fell hopelessly in love with you?”

  Even though he was in a jovial mood, there was real emotion behind his eyes, and I couldn’t stop my stomach from flipping as he winked. There was also legitimate sentiment attached to the words. He had a certain effect on me. It wasn’t one I wanted to boast about because it made me feel girly and stupid. It was there, though, rippling under the surface. “Um … I forgot what we were talking about.”

  Eliot snickered. “I love how I can distract you with declarations of feelings. That’s a weapon that I always have at the ready for when you’re on a tear and need to be silenced.”

  I was fairly certain that was an insult. “I never need to be silenced. Every word I utter is lovely, intelligent and significant.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Eliot made a dismissive motion with his hand as he inclined his chin toward the feather duster. “You’ve yet to explain why you’re dusting. Did you do something weird that caused dust to explode all over the house?”

  “No.”

  “Did the maids forget to dust when they were here earlier in the week?”

  “No.”

  “Did you fall and hit your head and somehow turn into a domestic sort of woman when I wasn’t watching?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” Eliot smiled as he met my annoyed gaze. “I kind of like you the way you are. If you suddenly turned into one of those women who felt the need to clean and cook I wouldn’t know how to handle you. I prefer my women lazy and allergic to cleaning supplies.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Do you think that’s funny?”

  “I think you’re being weird and I want to know why.” Eliot leaned forward and took me by surprise when he grabbed me around the waist and tugged me to the couch. He was strong, so he could overpower me, but he was careful not to hurt me even though I was throwing elbows left and right. “Knock that off,” Eliot warned whe
n I hit him in the stomach, causing him to suck in a breath. “I want to know what you’re doing.”

  “I’m fighting off a pervert,” I barked out. “I don’t have time to play your games right now. I have other stuff going on.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eliot didn’t look convinced. “Why are you dusting?”

  “Because … because … people dust.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I do so.”

  “When have you ever dusted?”

  This was quite probably the silliest argument we’d ever had. I couldn’t remember a dumber one … and we’d once argued about whether or not Han Solo was an appropriate naughty fantasy character because he never went anywhere without his sidekick and that would make for an uncomfortable threesome. “I dust.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Fine.” I blew out a sigh as I stopped struggling. It was time to lull him into a false sense of security so I could make my break a few seconds from now. “I was dusting because I wanted to make you happy. Everything I do is for you.”

  “Bull.” Eliot kept a firm grip on me, as if he sensed I was going to make a break for it. Where is the love? He should trust me. Yes, I know I plan to run the first chance I get, but he shouldn’t automatically assume that’s my plan. That’s not nice.

  “Hey, if I say I’m doing something for you I mean it,” I shot back, annoyance threatening to take over. I’m like the Hulk, for the record. You don’t want to hang out with me when I’m angry … or have PMS … or hungry for peanut M&Ms and there are none in the house. I’m a scary chick when I want to be. Not only am I fine with people being frightened of me, I encourage it. “Is it so wrong that I’m trying to make a comfortable home environment for you? I’m a girl. It’s in my nature to want to make my man happy.”