[Avery Shaw 11.0] Unwritten & Underwater Read online

  “Oh, I always fancied myself a rut.”

  “People thought you would end up together – especially after he got shot saving you that one night – but instead you ended up with that hot private investigator who’s always hanging around with Jake,” Shelby explained. “He was on the ‘hot bachelor’ list, too, but he was a couple of spots down. Then you snagged him and he fell off the list, so … good job.”

  “Yes, I tell myself that every morning,” I deadpanned, unsure how to respond. “Back to Cara and Jake, though … .”

  “Oh, right.” Shelby warmed to her topic. “Cara couldn’t stop mentioning her boyfriend whenever I saw her on the street. It was beyond annoying. She’d say things like she was going to a political fundraiser and was going to meet the governor thanks to her boyfriend. It kind of made me want to puke.”

  “I can see that.” I honestly could. “But things weren’t always chocolate and unicorns between them. The relationship was only smooth sailing at the beginning. I’m more interested in the things she said once the relationship fell apart.”

  “Yeah, that was funny.” Shelby looked genuinely amused. “She was not happy when things derailed. She didn’t want to talk about it at first, but everyone could tell something was wrong. She suddenly stopped bringing up the sheriff with every other breath, and we all knew. We talked about it behind her back.”

  Shelby irritated me to no end, but I had to admire the fact that she admitted to gossiping behind Cara’s back. She reminded me of me on that front.

  “Did she come up with excuses?”

  “She did,” Shelby confirmed, her lips curving. “The first couple of times Farrell blew her off she claimed that he originally agreed to go to the events without a date. She said he couldn’t get an extra ticket at the last minute, which we all knew was total crap. He’s the sheriff. No one would give him grief about an extra ticket.

  “After a bit, she grew more bitter and had a harder time keeping things to herself,” she continued. “She started blaming other people – she came up with conspiracy theories and such about people trying to keep her from Jake. One of those theories involved you.”

  Now we were getting somewhere. “What did she say about me?”

  “Well, she told me about your thick thighs. I thought she was making it up at first because she was jealous, but I see now she was telling the truth.”

  It took all of the strength I had to refrain from using my thick thighs to power my feet into her face. “Yes, well, even someone like Cara had to be right at least part of the time.”

  “Right?” Shelby was clearly oblivious, but I let her prattle on. “She became a bit unhinged when Farrell dumped her. She didn’t want to admit it at first. We knew it was true because Jenny Rosenberg works at the county building and it was a big deal when the gossip ripped through there. People assumed he was going to go after you.

  “We finally confronted her about what was going on and told her we knew she wasn’t with Farrell any longer,” she continued. “She turned on us really quickly, and then covered. She claimed you were working against her and she was going to get everything back once she handled you.”

  “I see.” I rolled my neck as I absorbed the news. “I saw her a few days before she died. She was in Meijer. She seemed a bit … unhappy.”

  “She was very unhappy. I would say she was almost depressed.”

  That wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Do you have any idea why she would’ve been at the aquarium?”

  “I know she was handling the refreshments for the opening party for the aquarium, but I don’t know who her contact was or anything.”

  That gave me something to go on. “Okay, well, thanks. Can you think of anything else important?”

  “Just that she was part of a wine-tasting group that met once a week and they would probably have better information for you,” Shelby replied. “I don’t know anything about the group – or when they met – but I know that she was pretty tight with the people in that group.”

  “Thanks. That’s a good tip.”

  “No problem.” Shelby’s smile was back. “If I can be any more help or you need a photograph for your article, you know where to find me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Oh, if you also want to set up a time to go to the gym I can show you some exercises that target thighs,” Shelby added. “You clearly need help.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, too.” No, I won’t.

  I COULD’VE LEFT things alone and returned to the newspaper office. Shelby gave me somewhere to start, and I needed to make a call about the aquarium party’s catering. Fraser couldn’t control what the county bigwigs told me. That’s one thing I had going for me. Still, something about the house called to me.

  I waited until I was sure Shelby was ensconced in her house – probably planning a workout regimen for my thighs – and then made my way down the block. I put on a good show, as if I was merely enjoying the neighborhood’s ambiance, and then cut back. I remained close to the tree line before heading to the side door. Keeping my wits about me, I lifted the end of my T-shirt to wrap around the doorknob before twisting. I expected it to be locked.

  It wasn’t.

  I had a choice. I could be a good girl and leave the spying and digging to the actual professionals or I could break in and be a complete and total idiot. I opted for the second choice, of course.

  Cara’s garage was dark. Her vehicle was missing. Where was it? Did she drive it to the aquarium? If so, that meant she probably met someone there, because she wouldn’t have a key to a county venue. If her vehicle wasn’t at the aquarium, where was it?

  I used my shirt again when I tried the door to the main house … and I got lucky a second time. Either Cara was careless when it came to home safety or she didn’t plan on being away from home for an extended period when she last left.

  Cara’s house was pretty much what I expected. Everything was painted in muted colors and absolutely nothing was out of place. Her kitchen – the first room I stumbled across – had every cooking tool known to man, including a few I couldn’t recognize. I checked the refrigerator because people’s eating habits intrigue me and found piles of rabbit food. There wasn’t a pint of ice cream or an Oreo cookie package in sight. Now I felt even sadder for her.

  I spent very little time in the living room, mostly because it looked as if she spent very little time in there herself, and headed down the hallway. Her bedroom was clean – the bed made – and her closet was immaculate. Eliot made a rule in our house that I couldn’t go to bed until all of my clothes were put away. That went for dirty and clean clothes. Otherwise our new house would resemble a laundry pile. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that. Apparently Cara didn’t have that problem.

  There was a sterile guest bedroom with absolutely no style. I barely spared the room a glance before focusing on Cara’s office. It was the only room with any color in the house. The walls were purple, the desk antique, and files were scattered all over the top.

  I flicked open the top file and widened my eyes when I saw my name. I shouldn’t have been surprised that she conducted research on me. In her position, I would’ve done the same. I would’ve hidden it better, of course, but Cara was hardly as cagey as me. The other files looked less exciting, one involving party preparations for various jobs and the other featuring news clippings on Jake. That was a bit stalker-like, but nothing compared to the file on me. She’d even managed to get her hands on my high school yearbook. That was frightening, and not just because of my bad hair.

  I was just about to sit down and go through the file when I heard a noise at the front of the house. I tilted my head to the side, hoping to convince myself it was merely the air conditioner kicking on. Instead I heard the unmistakable sound of a door closing.

  Crap! Someone was inside the house.

  I had no idea who it was, but odds were that it wasn’t someone I wanted to risk running into. I glanced around the room, my heart rate picking up,
and fixated on the window. It wasn’t overly large but it was big enough for me to wriggle through. I covered my hand with my T-shirt while yanking up the window, and slammed my elbow into the screen to dislodge it before glancing back at Cara’s file on me.

  I have no idea what possessed me to do it, but I grabbed the file before climbing through the window. I couldn’t simply pretend I’d never seen it. For better or for worse, I’d officially stolen from a dead woman’s house.

  I could get in huge trouble for that … and yet I didn’t feel guilty in the least. I had to know.

  14 Fourteen

  I placed a few calls, confirmed Cara’s status as the party planner for the county’s aquarium opening, and filed my article from home. Fish wasn’t happy – he was still on his “have to be in the office for the hours to count” kick – but he didn’t put up too much of a fuss when I explained I was busy tracking down leads.

  Once I was done and off the hook for the day, I turned my attention to the pilfered file. I sat cross-legged in the middle of my office and spread out the documents so I could look at each in turn. She’d managed to amass a weird assortment of items that I couldn’t quite wrap my head around.

  The yearbook would’ve been easy enough to track down. All she had to do was contact my high school and order a tome from the year I graduated. I knew because they’d contacted me to see if I wanted one. I wasn’t fond of my chosen hairstyle back then, so I declined. Not only had Cara purchased the yearbook, she also made notations in it.

  They weren’t exactly favorable.

  “I am not the queen of the geek squad,” I muttered, glowering at her notation next to one of the photos that featured me. Derrick and Jake – the only two people I willingly spent time with during my senior year – flanked me in the photo. They looked happy and relaxed, both of them wearing letterman’s jackets. I, on the other hand, wore a Buffy the Vampire Slayer shirt that really set off my eyes. I thought I looked adorable. Cara? Yeah, not so much.

  “What are you looking at?”

  I jolted at the sound of Eliot’s voice, snapping my eyes to the open door and hating the way the heat crept into my cheeks as I registered the fact that things were about to get ugly. “Nothing.” I moved to gather the spread of items, but Eliot stopped me by snagging the yearbook.

  He grinned when he realized what I was looking at, although the smile didn’t last very long when he saw the notation. “Did you give yourself this moniker?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I’m thinking that you probably made friends in high school the same way you do now, and someone else wrote this in here for you.”

  Well, he wasn’t wrong. “I was putting stuff away and felt nostalgic,” I lied. “I guess I got distracted.”

  “I don’t blame you. This is fun.” Eliot sat on the floor next to me, barely sparing a glance for the other documents scattered about. He flipped a few pages in the yearbook before landing on another photo of me. “You dressed up like Han Solo for the Halloween dance, huh?”

  “You seem surprised.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s just … I guess back then they didn’t have cool costumes like the one I got you for your Valentine’s Day surprise, huh? You actually had to dress up in full pants and a heavy jacket.”

  “We live in Michigan,” I reminded him. “By Halloween it’s generally cold enough for a heavy jacket.”

  “Uh-huh.” Eliot didn’t look convinced. “You seem edgy. Does it bother you that I’m going through your yearbook?”

  “No. Why would it bother me?”

  “I have no idea, but you seem agitated.” Eliot flipped a few more pages, pursing his lips when he came to a photo of Jake and me. “Prom?”

  I glanced at the photo and nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Why did you write ‘stupid slut’ next to the photo?”

  We were starting to get into tricky territory now. I hadn’t outright lied yet. Well, mostly. Whatever I said to cover that notation would be a lie. “Well … .”

  “Wait, this isn’t your handwriting.” Eliot furrowed his brow. “Did someone steal your yearbook and write nasty sayings all through it? No wonder you don’t ever break it out. We can probably order you a new one that doesn’t have terrible comments about you.”

  The time for truth was officially here. “That’s not my yearbook.”

  “What?” Eliot flicked his eyes to me. “Of course it’s your yearbook. You and Jake are in a bunch of photos together inside of it. If that’s why you’re worried, by the way, don’t. I think I can table my jealousy at your high school romance to look at some photos of you with truly hilarious hair. What’s up with the feathered look?”

  That was a very good question. “I was stoned a lot in high school.”

  “Good to know.” Eliot smirked. “Seriously, though, we can get you a new yearbook. I’ll do it for you.”

  “That’s nice, but … I wasn’t lying about that not being my yearbook.” I dreaded Eliot’s reaction to finding out I broke into Cara’s house. He wouldn’t be happy. There would be yelling … and furniture kicking … and maybe an errant fist in a wall. But that couldn’t be helped now. “Eliot, I have something to tell you.”

  The look on Eliot’s face told me he wasn’t looking forward to whatever I was about to say. “Do I need to sit down?”

  “You’re already sitting down.”

  “Do I need to start drinking?”

  “I think we both should start drinking,” I suggested. “We have that full bar in the basement, and we’ve barely used it. We should spend some time down there. Come on. I’ll pour.”

  I grabbed his arm, but he refused to move, instead fixing me with a dark look. “What did you do?”

  Even though I was guilty, his tone set my teeth on edge. “How do you know I did anything?”

  “Because you’re acting all fluttery,” Eliot replied, not missing a beat. “You’re an extremely good liar when you want to be. It’s only when you know you’ve done something wrong that you act like a high school twink.”

  “That was either very flattering or extremely insulting. I need some time to decide which.”

  “Talk.”

  “Fine.” I heaved out an extended breath. “That’s not my yearbook.”

  “You’ve said that already – twice – and I don’t understand what you mean by that. You’re in the yearbook.”

  “Okay, let me rephrase,” I said. “I’m in that yearbook, but I didn’t buy that yearbook. Someone else ordered that yearbook, had it sent to her house and wrote all of the very insulting – and completely untrue – comments about me in the margins.”

  “Someone else bought your yearbook? But who?” Eliot was understandably confused. “I thought you were gathering information on Cara all day. How did you even get distracted by this yearbook thing?”

  “Well … .”

  Eliot put things together faster than I expected. “Oh, son of a … did you break into Cara’s house?”

  “That is an ugly question to ask,” I countered, going on the offensive. “How can you say such things about the woman you love?”

  “Because I’ve met you.”

  “I think I might cry.”

  “You’re going to cry if you don’t tell me exactly what’s going on,” Eliot erupted. “What were you thinking?”

  “Hey, you don’t even know what I did yet,” I argued. “It was an accident.”

  “You accidentally broke into Cara’s house?”

  “No, I accidentally slipped my T-shirt over my hand and tried the side door to her garage,” I replied. “I didn’t think it would open, but it did. What was I supposed to do with an open door like that?”

  “Walk away.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t do that.” I rubbed my palms against my knees to cut down on the pooling sweat. “Once I was inside I thought that the door between the garage and the house would be locked and that if I tried it I’d be disappointed and that would be the end of it.”

  “B
ut?”

  “But Cara is apparently a complete and total idiot when it comes to home security,” I replied. “You’re a genius when it comes to home security. Have I ever told you that?”

  “Compliments will get you nowhere.”

  “What if I strip naked while offering them?”

  I expected a smile for the effort but Eliot’s face remained full of fury. “Avery, if you don’t tell me exactly what you did we’re going to have the argument to end all arguments. I guarantee that you’ll lose.”

  “Oh, geez.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. I had no choice, so I decided to do it in one long rush of words. I figured that might confuse Eliot enough for him to forget that he was angry with me. “Her house is sterile and it’s painted in these really boring brown and yellow colors. There’s a lot of white, too. It’s really distracting.”

  “Avery!”

  “I didn’t get a lot of time to look around,” I said, increasing my verbal pace. “One room did catch my attention. It was her office. She had three files on her desk and the first one I opened was on me. She had all of this … stuff … inside of it. I was going to look at it there, but I heard the front door open and panicked. I figured it was the cops … and I confirmed that when I made my way around to the front of the house and saw Fraser going in and out. He was loading things into his car.”

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Eliot looked downright appalled. “Avery, what were you thinking? If he found you there he would’ve arrested you for breaking and entering.”

  “I didn’t break anything.”

  “You entered.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” I conceded. “When I heard the door open I panicked a bit. I didn’t know what to do, so I went through a window. Don’t worry, I covered my hand so there aren’t any fingerprints. I thought ahead.”

  “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen,” Eliot muttered.

  I sensed a thawing in his demeanor, or maybe that was wishful thinking. Despite that, I plowed forward. “I don’t know what possessed me to take the file, and it will probably come back to bite me – because so many things do – but I’m not sorry I did it.”