Shot Off The Presses: An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 4 Page 15

  “Why?”

  “Because then he’s going to have to admit what he was doing in a parking lot at one in the morning,” I explained. “And, if he somehow leaves that part out, he knows I’ll tell everyone what he was doing – and I’ll probably make up stuff to make it worse. He still thinks we don’t know he’s been doing the same thing in The Monitor’s parking lot.”

  “You can’t prove that,” Eliot reminded me.

  “That’s not entirely true,” I said. “The night Derrick dropped me off at the paper – after the kid in Roseville was killed – he personally witnessed them going at it.”

  Eliot lifted himself up on one elbow. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I forgot.”

  “Liar,” Eliot laughed, throwing himself back against the pillows again. “You just didn’t want me to say no to your little adventure last night.”

  “That’s an ugly lie.”

  “Whatever.”

  My cell phone rang from the nightstand and I reached over Eliot to answer it. I cringed when I heard the voice on the other end of the phone.

  “While you’re not exactly my favorite person to talk to, I do have a few things to remind you of.”

  “Mom?”

  “No, it’s Harriet.”

  “I know it’s Harriet,” I sighed. “I was just being . . . never mind, you’ll never get it. What do you want?”

  “I want to remind you that Carly’s shower is tonight.”

  I froze; the phone cradled next to my ear, and turned to Eliot with a hint of panic in my eyes. “No, the shower isn’t until next week,” I said.

  “Why would the shower be after the wedding?” Harriet’s voice was clipped – she was obviously still angry from our conversation the other day.

  “Her wedding is this weekend?” That couldn’t be right.

  “Yes, this weekend.”

  “I forgot,” I admitted.

  “Carly knew you would, that’s why she told me to call and remind you.”

  “Why didn’t she have you call yesterday?” Or the day before would have been even better.

  “She might have told me to, but it slipped my mind with all the unrest over here in the past few days.”

  “What unrest?” I narrowed my eyes.

  “Well, since you purposely created unrest between Carly and I, it’s been a tense few days,” Harriet replied primly.

  “I didn’t purposely create unrest between you and Carly,” I corrected her. “Carly told me to be a bitch to you on the phone so I was.”

  I could feel Eliot shaking with silent laughter on the bed beside me.

  “Carly says it was your idea.”

  She would. “Fine, it was my idea.”

  “I knew it!”

  “When is the shower? And why are you guys having a shower on a Wednesday again?”

  “We wanted to have it over the weekend, but you said that Carly had to have a bachelorette party on the weekend so that meant moving the shower to the middle of the week.” Harriet was clearly enjoying the conversation now. “The bachelorette party you’re supposed to organize.”

  “I have it under control,” I sniped, grabbing Eliot’s phone and using it to send a quick text to Lexie – one that informed her she would be in charge of planning the bachelorette party. I was relieved when she immediately texted back and said she’d handle it.

  “The party is at 8 p.m. this evening,” Harriet reminded me.

  “I got it.”

  “Presents are mandatory.”

  “I bought a present months ago.”

  Harriet disconnected and I turned to Eliot. “What do you get someone for a bridal shower?”

  Eliot started laughing. “How should I know?”

  “Well, I’ve got to figure something out between now and 8 p.m. tonight – and it’s got to be something that doesn’t look like I just picked it out today.”

  Eliot thought about it a second. “We could go to the mall, I guess.” He didn’t look thrilled with the prospect.

  The mere thought brightened my day, though. “That’s a great idea,” I said. “I want to swing by that shoe store by the food court.”

  “You don’t need any more shoes,” Eliot grumbled.

  “I want to see those Black Sabbath Converse in person,” I said. “They look cool online, but that doesn’t always mean they’ll still be cool in the store.”

  Eliot sighed. “I thought we were just looking for a present for Carly?”

  “You don’t need to go,” I said pointedly. “I am more than capable of going to the mall myself.”

  Eliot frowned. “I would feel better if I went with you.”

  I sighed dramatically. “I can’t take much more of this.”

  “You weren’t saying that when I stepped between you and the angry koala last night.”

  He had a point. “If you want to watch me, you’re going to have to go shopping with me.”

  “Isn’t that what I just said?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “You said you would pick out a gift for Carly with me. That’s not shopping.”

  “Fine,” Eliot gritted out.

  “And lunch at the food court.”

  “You’re pushing it.”

  “It will be fun,” I lied.

  “Sounds like hell to me.”

  TWO HOURS later we were at the mall – and Eliot’s mood hadn’t improved.

  “Why are we in a toy store?”

  “I just want to see if they’ve came out with any new Star Wars Lego sets that I want.”

  “Really?”

  “It will take two minutes.”

  Eliot watched me peruse the shelves for a few minutes and then he pointed. “You don’t have that one.”

  “You remember my Lego sets? And you say I’m juvenile.”

  Eliot ignored the comment. “Is there a reason you don’t want this one?”

  “It’s from the prequels.”

  “And the prequels sucked,” Eliot nodded his head knowingly.

  “There were some decent moments in Revenge of the Sith,” I countered.

  “Yeah,” Eliot agreed. “The profound suck that was Jar Jar Binks, though, still brought the entire franchise to its knees.”

  I couldn’t argue with that.

  Once we left the store, I started leading Eliot towards a shoe store at the end of the ell when he stopped me. “Aren’t we supposed to be shopping for Carly?”

  “Yes, and we will.”

  “When?”

  “Soon.”

  “Define soon.”

  “You’re so anti-shopping.”

  “I don’t have a problem with shopping,” Eliot argued. “I have a problem with meandering around a mall and buying things you don’t need.”

  “Define need.”

  Eliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You make me tired.”

  “Fine,” I huffed. “I will bypass the shoe store for the day.”

  “Good.”

  “Let’s go buy Carly’s gift.”

  “What are you going to get her?”

  “I’ve been thinking about that,” I replied. “I think I’ll just go with the standard sexy underwear.”

  “Won’t that be embarrassing for her to get in front of her future mother-in-law?” Eliot asked dubiously.

  “Of course,” I said with a small smile. “That’s what she deserves for sacrificing me to that witch.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something you should do to your best friend.”

  I considered the statement for a second and then shook my head. “No, it’s a great idea.”

  I led Eliot to the second floor and headed in the direction of the Victoria’s Secret that I knew was sandwiched between The Body Shop and Gap. When I rounded the corner, Eliot started slowing his speed until he was a few feet behind me.

  “What are you doing?” I asked curiously.

  “Maybe I should wait out here.” Eliot was glancing around to make sure no one he knew was loitering in o
ur direct vicinity.

  I pursed my lips. “I’m disappointed.”

  “About what?” Eliot was suddenly defensive.

  “You’re the big, strong man that is supposed to keep me safe and yet you’re scared to go into a store that sells women’s underwear?”

  Eliot squared his shoulders. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to.”

  “That’s scared.”

  “It’s not scared. It’s reluctant.”

  “There’s a difference?”

  “Can’t you just go in without me?”

  “Fine,” I blew out a sigh. “However, if I get shot by a freeway sniper in there because you were scared to look at women’s underwear, you’re going to feel really stupid.”

  Eliot didn’t look like he believed me. “If you were to get that black thing,” he pointed to a lacy teddy ensemble on one of the headless mannequins. “I wouldn’t complain.”

  I glanced at it, considering. “Maybe – if you’re a very good boy. I’m a little worried it will give you nightmares, though.”

  Eliot’s face brightened as he turned to the walls that overlooked the lower level of the mall. “I could put up with a few nightmares if you wore that.”

  It took me about a half an hour to pick something out for Carly. When I told the sales clerk I needed a size two she gave me a suspicious look. “It’s for a friend.”

  When I bought the ensemble in the front window that Eliot liked – in a size eight – she looked relieved. “This will look great on you and it’s much more realistic.”

  When I left the store, I found Eliot standing exactly where I left him. I couldn’t help but notice that two women were sitting on a nearby bench staring at him – staring and gossiping – but he seemed oblivious to them. They obviously liked what they saw, but whatever he was fixated on was of more interest to him.

  “You have two fans,” I said when I sidled up to him.

  Eliot didn’t turn to acknowledge me. “Isn’t that Christine Brady?”

  “Where?” I asked curiously, following his line of sight.

  “Right there, at that kiosk in the center of the mall.”

  I squinted my eyes and followed his finger. “Yeah.”

  Eliot watched me, waiting for me to react. “What am I not getting?”

  “Do you see what she’s buying?”

  I shook my head and focused more on the scene below us. It took me a second but then it registered. “Is this a gun and knife show?”

  “Yep.”

  “In the middle of the mall? Can they do that?”

  “Apparently.”

  “What do you think she’s buying?” I asked finally.

  “Looks like ammunition,” Eliot replied carefully.

  We exchanged a furtive glance. I think he was worried that I would jump to conclusions and I think I was worried that I would, yes, jump to conclusions.

  “It could just be a coincidence,” I said finally.

  “It could,” Eliot agreed.

  “What are the odds of that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not a mathematician.”

  “Crap. This day just keeps getting worse.”

  Twenty-Three

  “What do you wear to a bridal shower?”

  Eliot was working on his laptop in the kitchen and watching me through the doorway to his bedroom as I tossed various outfits onto his bed as I mentally considered (and then ruled out) them. “Right off the top of my head, I would say clothes.”

  “But what kind of clothes?” I ignored the sarcasm. I wasn’t really in the mood. “I don’t have a lot here. Just a couple Star Wars T-shirts and a few pairs of pants that I’ve left here over the past few weeks.”

  “Where is it again? At a restaurant?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How nice is the restaurant?” Eliot seemed distracted by whatever he was looking at on his laptop.

  “Casual.”

  “Then just wear jeans and a plain shirt – and then pick up all those clothes you just tossed on the bed and put them back in the closet.”

  “Yes, dad,” I muttered under my breath.

  “I heard that.”

  “I meant for you to.” Not really.

  I got dressed in simple jeans, my Mischief Managed T-shirt with both Fred and George Weasley on it – and then sat down in the middle of Eliot’s living room to wrap Carly’s present. Eliot glanced up at my shirt and smiled. “You think that’s going to make Harriet happy?”

  “That’s why I wore it,” I said. “Plus, it’s virtually promising that I won’t get into any trouble tonight.”

  “Yeah, a shirt is going to do the impossible.”

  I ignored the jab. “What are you doing?” I asked.

  Eliot glanced at the sexy camisole and tap pants I held up and then folded. He raised his eyebrows a second and then glanced at me. “Where’s my outfit?”

  “In the bedroom waiting for you to put it on.”

  Eliot stuck out his tongue in my direction.

  “I’m starting to rub off on you. You’re getting more and more immature.”

  “That’s a terrifying thought.”

  He always said that – but I’m not sure that he believed it.

  I went back to wrapping, which wasn’t exactly one of my gifts, and then turned back to Eliot. “You never answered me. What are you doing on your computer?”

  “Trying to see if I can track down some information on Christine Brady.”

  “I thought I was going to do that tomorrow,” I pouted.

  “Does it really matter who does the leg work?”

  “No, I guess,” I conceded. “As long as I get credit for taking her down.”

  “The credit is all yours.”

  “Where are you even looking?” I asked curiously.

  “Public records.”

  “So, just general digging?”

  “Pretty much,” Eliot nodded, never taking his eyes off his computer screen.

  “You think you’ll find something?”

  “I’ve got some people I want to check with while you’re at the shower. It will give me something to do,” Eliot explained.

  “You mean you’re not going to sit here and cry because you miss me?”

  “No.”

  “How about sitting here and imagining me in that black thing?”

  Eliot cocked his head. “I can do that while you’re at the bridal shower.”

  “You know,” I said slyly. “You could text me early in the shower and I could leave for an emergency. That way, I could still say I went to the shower but that I got inexplicably called away. That wouldn’t be my fault.”

  “Not going to happen,” Eliot replied succinctly.

  “Why?”

  “Because, my errands are going to take a few hours and at least I know you’ll be stuck inside at a bridal shower for hours,” Eliot smiled. “That makes me feel better.”

  That made one of us.

  AT FIVE minutes before eight, I was standing outside the passenger door of Eliot’s truck making my last-minute plea for him to save me. “You said you were here to protect me.”

  “From a crazy person with a gun, not your best friend and cake.”

  “I’ll be your sex slave for a night,” I offered.

  Eliot paused, considering my offer, and then shook his head. “I can pretty much talk you into anything I want. Besides, you’ll be safe here for the night, and that’s the most important thing.”

  I really shouldn’t argue with him when he was saying sweet things like that, I reminded myself. It didn’t stop me. “You’re being really mean to me and I won’t forget it.”

  “Get your ass in the restaurant.”

  Once inside, I spent as much time slipping my jacket off in the coatroom as I possibly could before my absence would become noticeable and then I slunk into the designated party room off to the left of the facility.

  Carly was sitting at the head of the table, surrounded by a bevy of women I had never seen before.
The level of chatter was idling at headache-inducing. I seriously considered trying to hide in the bathroom – but that thought was fleeting. “There you are!”

  I glanced up when I heard Carly’s voice. She’d obviously been waiting for me.

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said earnestly. I knew Carly would be the only one at the party to know I was lying.

  “I was worried you weren’t coming,” Carly said pointedly as she slipped away from the table and firmly planted herself at my side.

  “Of course I was coming,” I said soothingly. “Like I would forget your bridal shower. Who are all these people?”

  “Harriet said you did.”

  “Harriet is a filthy liar.”

  “Hello, Avery,” Harriet said stiffly, trying to sneak around me and join the other women at the table.

  “Hello, Harriet.” If she wanted me to be embarrassed by my statement, and the fact she had heard me say it, I was beyond it at this point. “Who are all these people?”

  “I was seriously worried,” Carly lowered her voice. “I thought you would use the freeway shootings as a way to get out of this.”

  “Well, luckily for you, the one place I want to be even less than this is at the office.”

  “Why?” Carly asked suspiciously.

  I told her about making Eliot stalk Brick the night before. My humiliation was apparently worth it, though, as Carly cracked the first real smile I’d seen in weeks. Before I realized what was happening, she was bent over at the waist and laughing so hard her whole body was shaking. “I can just see you trying to convince Eliot that wasn’t your fault,” she sputtered. “And that chasing a guy named Brick around was a good idea.”

  Harriet was watching us from the table irritably. “What are the two of you talking about?”

  “Avery’s crazy co-workers,” Carly said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

  “Yes,” Harriet nodded primly. “I’ve heard you work with a lot of colorful people.”

  “What does she do?” One of the women at the table asked.

  “She’s a reporter for The Monitor,” Harriet responded, although she looked like she wanted to be talking about anything but me.

  “Oooh, that sounds exciting,” the woman said. “I bet it’s always something new.”

  “Like the freeway shootings,” another woman piped in. “Are you working on that story?”

  “I am,” I nodded obliquely and then turned to Carly. “Who are these people, really?” I whispered the question.