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  New Media & Old Grudges

  An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 16

  Amanda M. Lee

  WinchesterShaw Publications

  Copyright © 2020 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

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Prologue

  Twelve years ago

  “You can’t vote for him.”

  My grandfather, a burly man with thinning hair and an easy smile, fixed me with a pointed look as I circled names in the newspaper. Our local newspaper had printed an entire page of candidates and proposals so voters could keep track for the upcoming local election. It was my first time voting and I was excited, though the emotion waned whenever a helpful relative stopped by to tell me how I should vote.

  “How do you even know who I’m going to vote for?” I challenged, raising my eyes. I, Avery Shaw, had never met an argument I couldn’t engage and win. This wasn’t going to be the first one. “I’m just looking at the list. I’m not voting until Tuesday.”

  “Right.” He lowered his bulky frame into the chair across from me. In reality, it was my fault that he was making his opinion known. If I’d taken the list someplace else — anyplace other than the restaurant he owned and operated — then I would’ve been able to peruse it in privacy. Now I had him to contend with ... and that was rarely a good thing.

  “I don’t understand these proposals,” I admitted after a moment, chewing my lip. “They’re worded ... weird.”

  “That’s on purpose. The people who try to ram them through and take more money from our pockets want voters to be confused so that they’ll cast ballots against their own interests.”

  I was intrigued. “How so?”

  “Take this one.” Grandpa tapped the item for the police millage in Auburn Hills. “They don’t need more money for their cops. Do you want to know why? I’ll tell you why.” He barreled forward, barely taking a breath. “Auburn Hills is an affluent community. The rich don’t commit violent crimes very often.”

  I furrowed my brow. “I don’t think the statistics on that will hold up.”

  “Oh, but they do.”

  “No. I ... .” I shifted my eyes to the restaurant door as the bell hanging over it jangled to announce someone was entering. I was relieved to see it was Jake Farrell, my boyfriend, who just happened to be the son of the sheriff. “Let’s ask Jake.”

  Grandpa rolled his eyes. “We don’t need to ask Jake,” he countered, annoyance obvious. “I already told you how it is. You should just believe me and move on.”

  I ignored him and grinned at my boyfriend. He was tall, lanky actually, and he had dark eyes and hair. Most girls would go weak at the knees over his looks, but I wasn’t most girls. Don’t get me wrong, I liked the way he looked. I did not, however, want to go weak at the knees for anybody. To me, that was pretty much the worst thing that could ever happen, and I had no intention of being one of those girls.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.” His smile was easy as he gave me a quick kiss and slid into the chair next to me. The look he shot my grandfather was one of curiosity, but he didn’t come right out and ask why Grandpa and I were hanging out. Of all the adults in our lives, my grandfather was by far the funniest. He was also embarrassing, rigid, and occasionally misogynistic, but without realizing he was stepping all over my female empowerment shtick. “What are you doing?”

  “Looking at all the candidates,” I replied, smoothing the newspaper. “I’m voting for the first time this year. It’s important that I research everything.”

  Jake and Grandpa snorted in unison, causing me to frown.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I complained, my temper flaring. “Voting is important. We’re shaping the future of our democracy.”

  “Oh, isn’t that cute.” Jake tweaked my nose, which only served to further infuriate me. “The thing is, voting really doesn’t matter. No matter what, things are going to stay the same.”

  Not only didn’t I believe that, I was annoyed that he did. “How can you say that? Your father is an elected official. He’s the top cop in the county. He’s obviously changed things for people.”

  “Except ... not really.” Jake leaned back in his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. On the outside he looked relaxed. But there was something else bubbling under the surface. Only someone who knew him as well as me would recognize it. We’d been attached at the hip for years. First, it was as friends, then as something more. I knew him better than almost anybody, and something was clearly bothering him.

  “How do you figure it wouldn’t be different?” I challenged.

  “Because a different guy coming in isn’t going to allow all the criminals early release ... or fire all the guards ... or allow the prisoners to be killed. He would do the exact same thing my father is doing. There would be zero difference. The only reason my father won is because he has name recognition and this county always votes Republican.”

  He wasn’t wrong, but still ... . “What’s wrong with you?” I blurted out the question even though I recognized Jake wouldn’t be comfortable speaking about his issues in front of Grandpa.

  “Nothing,” Jake replied hurriedly, flashing a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “I’m fine. I just don’t agree with you that elections are important.”

  “So you’re not voting?” I couldn’t help being disappointed. “I thought we could go together.”

  “I didn’t say I wasn’t voting. My father will melt down if I don’t vote. I just don’t really care about any of the candidates. I’ll probably vote straight ticket.”

  “But ... no.” I shook my head and looked to my grandfather for support. “Tell him that’s a mistake.”

  “Why do I have to tell him?” Grandpa made a face. “He should already know that it’s a mistake. Not all candidates are created equal, son. You should know that. Your father is a good man. He’s not even a little bit annoying. Well, except for that time he tried to make me paint the lines on the parking spaces because he said nobody knew where to park. That was stupid ... but he backed off when I told him I wasn’t going to do it.”

  “He’s issued you ten citations since,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but those are suggestions, not requirements.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s the way it works.” I turned back to my newspaper. “I don’t want to vote straight ticket. I mean ... I get voting for one party on the national level because you have certain ideals that you want to shore up. But on the local level it’s different. These are the people
who have more control over our lives.”

  Grandpa’s expression was shrewd. “That is very smart.” He wagged his finger and grinned. “You get more and more like me every passing day.”

  “That’s terrifying,” Jake muttered, causing me to grin.

  “Local politicians are more important ... kind of,” Grandpa explained, ignoring Jake’s expression. “Take certain offices, though. It doesn’t matter who the clerk is ... or the treasurer ... or even the prosecutor. All the candidates want to do the job. Well, unless you get a crook in as treasurer and then you’re screwed, but you can’t always control everything.

  “Jake’s father has proven to be a good sheriff, so he’ll win in a walkover,” he continued. “All these county positions don’t matter. Also, these judges don’t matter. That’s just a long list of ‘who cares.’ The most important parts are the proposals. You were right to focus on them.”

  “That doesn’t really answer my question,” I noted after a beat. “How do you select local candidates if you don’t vote by party?”

  “I vote by rumor,” Grandpa replied, grabbing the newspaper to view it more clearly, perching his reading glasses on the end of his nose and holding the list back so far it almost rubbed against my face. “Take Barry Barton here. He’s a Republican, although it doesn’t matter because he’s also cheating on his wife and trying to hide money from the IRS.”

  Jake straightened in his chair. “How do you know that?”

  “I heard him talking to Phil Donnelly the other day. He’s not even sly about it. I don’t care what party you’re in, if I have to pay my taxes, so do you. Those are the rules.” He skimmed his finger further down the list. “And here is Loretta Peterson. She’s on the other side of the aisle, but I wouldn’t vote for her either.”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Because she complained that my chili was too salty last week and there’s no way I’ll ever vote for a woman who has defective taste buds.”

  His response was enough to make me grin. “Fair enough.” I pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. In truth, I didn’t know the candidates very well. I hadn’t taken the time to learn anything about them. That would have to change going forward. “Tell me about the proposals.”

  “I believe I was in the middle of that when your boyfriend came in.” He pinned Jake with an eye roll, which only served to make Jake snort as he held my hand. “Like I said, rich people don’t tend to commit violent crimes. Poor people do that. Rich people commit white-collar crimes. They deserve to be punished for those crimes, don’t get me wrong, but you don’t need a lot of cops to deal with it. Cops are needed more for violent crimes because nonviolent offenders can wait until there’s an opening in the schedule to be picked up.”

  That sounded like nonsense. When I risked a glance at Jake, I could tell he was thinking the same thing. “But ... .”

  Grandpa pushed forward as if he hadn’t heard me. “Auburn Hills doesn’t need more cops, so they’re ripping off the taxpayers. Luckily we don’t live in Auburn Hills, so that’s not our concern. This county proposal for the schools, though, that’s a hard no, too.”

  “You don’t think we should give money to the schools?”

  He looked as if I’d asked whether I believed aliens really had abducted my aunt and forced her to have sex with the mailman. By the way, that’s the actual line she’d been spouting since getting caught cheating on my uncle two months ago. Surprisingly, they were still together. “Um ... no.”

  “But ... .”

  “No.” He shook his head, firm. “The answer on any proposal where they want money is no. When they ask for the suburbs to fund the bus system, the answer is no. When they ask for the state to help fund the cost of border crossings to Canada, the answer is no. The government has its hand in the pocket of every single person already. They don’t need more money.”

  “Well ... okay.” It seemed easier to pretend to agree with him than to argue.

  “Good.” He beamed at me as he stood. “I always knew you were the smart one, Avery. You’re the only one who takes after me.”

  Every time he said that a small part of me died. Still, I nodded and smiled. Once he returned to the kitchen, I turned to Jake. “I’m voting yes on every one of those proposals just to spite him.”

  He chuckled. “That sounds like you.” He moved the newspaper to read the list. “You’re really excited about this voting thing, huh? Do you want to tell me why?”

  I shrugged, noncommittal. I wasn’t sure I had an answer that would placate him. “I just want to be a solid citizen.”

  “Why really?”

  “I don’t know. It seems like a big deal. I can’t explain it.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re having such a good time researching the candidates and proposals. That will keep you out of trouble for a few days.” He flashed a smile, but there was something off.

  “Okay, are you going to tell me what has you so upset?”

  He balked. “What makes you think I’m upset?”

  “Please. I know you. You’re definitely upset.”

  “I’m ... well ... I’m having a fight with my father.”

  I’d figured that much out myself. “Oh, really? And why is that? Does he want you to work for the sheriff’s department as an apprentice again this year? I know you hated that last year, but think of all that confiscated beer we had at our disposal. It was awesome.”

  “Actually, he thinks I should join the military.”

  Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that. “What?”

  “The military,” he repeated. “He thinks I’m aimless and should serve my country for a tour or two to get my head together. He says he’s afraid I have no direction, that the only thing I want to do is hang out with you.”

  I swallowed hard, utterly dumbfounded. “And what do you think?”

  “I think that I don’t know what I want to do.” Jake was rueful. “When he started questioning me today I didn’t have any answers. You’re not like that. You know exactly what you want to do.”

  I nodded without hesitation. “I do. I want to be a reporter and make people cry when I dig up dirt on their lives. That’s always what I’ve wanted to do.”

  “And what do you think I should do?”

  There was no way I was going to answer that question. “I don’t think it matters what I believe you should do. What do you want to do?” We rarely had serious conversations and this one was throwing me for a loop. I hadn’t thought much about what would happen after graduation. That was still seven months away. Then we had a summer to play around and run wild. The real world could wait ... at least as far as I was concerned.

  “I don’t know what I want to do.” He dragged a hand through his hair, leaving it looking messy. He was handsome, so he could carry it off. “I don’t think it matters today.” This time the smile he graced me with was legitimate. “How about we torture your grandfather by telling him how you’re really going to vote and blackmail him for malts to get you to change your mind?”

  “I’m not going to change my mind. I know exactly who I want to be ... and who I want to vote for.”

  “He doesn’t need to know that.”

  I tilted my head to the side, considering. “Fair enough. Let’s torture him and get all sugared up.”

  “See. That right there is why I like you.”

  I beamed at him. “That goes double for me.”

  1 One

  Present Day

  “Okay, here’s the situation ... .”

  I took a pause, hoping to add drama, and surveyed the pawnshop owned by my boyfriend Eliot Kane. There were only two other people present — Eliot and my cousin Mario — and neither looked all that interested in what I was about to announce. I had every intention of changing that because I’m witty, delightful ... and altogether mean when I’m feeling ignored.

  “Are you listening?” I snapped my fingers to get their attention.

  Eliot, busy perusing his books behind the
counter, glanced up from his ledger and fixed his attention on me, his expression blank. “Is there a reason you’re in here? I mean ... not that I don’t love you and find true delight in these little freak-outs, but I’m busy.”

  “We’re all busy,” I fired back. “Look at Mario. He’s actually pretending to dust the countertop even though the rag hasn’t moved from that tiny spot in more than ten minutes.”

  Mario shot me a hateful look. He was younger than me, in his early twenties, but already boasting a receding hairline. He reminded me of my grandfather when it came to looks. He had some of my grandfather’s temperament, too. Unfortunately, I was still the one most like my grandfather ... and that was a painful reality for those closest to me, particularly Eliot.

  “Thank you, Avery,” my cousin drawled, annoyance positively dripping from his tongue. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it when you stop in during the middle of the day. It’s a personal highlight.”

  “It should be. I’m always entertaining.”

  “Right.” Mario rolled his eyes until they landed on Eliot. “Don’t you think you should have a moratorium on how much time she can spend here?”

  Eliot’s expression was hard to read. “No.” He shook his head. “I want to encourage her to spend time in the shop.”

  “Because it scares away the customers and you can nap in your office?”

  “Because I like spending time with her,” Eliot replied. “What’s your problem? I thought she was your favorite cousin.”

  “No, she’s actually third on the list. She can dip lower than that depending on her attitude on any given day. Today, she’s third.”