Extra! Extra! Dead All About It (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 12) Page 6

  “You’re a complete and total pain in the ass. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Only about seventy-five percent of the people I’ve met.”

  “That seems low.”

  “Some of the time I don’t let them hang around long enough to really get a handle on the fact that they’re going to hate me. No one has time for that.”

  “Well, at least you’re pragmatic. Keep me updated on what you find. And know that if you get arrested for doing something to Ludington and he flips out I won’t be posting bail this weekend. I’m having a barbecue.”

  “Why does everyone think I’m going to be arrested?”

  “We’ve met you.”

  Hey, wait a second … . “What kind of barbecue are you having?”

  “Just a few work friends. Nothing big or fancy.”

  “We work together.”

  “So?”

  “So why didn’t you invite me?”

  “I believe I gave an answer several minutes ago that covers that question.”

  “I must’ve forgotten.”

  “I’ve met you. You wouldn’t like my barbecue. It’s far too … rational … for a mind like yours to comprehend.”

  He probably had a point. “I’m going to talk to the aide to see what I can find. I’ll probably head back to the festival after that. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “You do that.”

  HONOR MASTERSON WORE a nametag and a bright smile when I walked through the door of Tad’s campaign headquarters. I gave the room a brief look, doing my best to hide my disgust as I matched the girl’s expression.

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but the sparse room with one table, four folding chairs and a bunch of signs stacked against a wall wasn’t it. There was even a sign on the bathroom door that read “out of order.” The setup was bleak. It made me a bit giddy.

  “Do you want to make the county great again?” Honor chirped.

  “I wasn’t aware the county wasn’t great.” I sat in the chair across from her. “When did it stop being great?”

  The question caught the young woman off guard. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

  That was hardly surprising given where she sat. I had a lot of important questions to focus on, so it made sense I went for the one that mattered to nobody but me first. “What’s the deal with the bathroom?”

  “What?” Honor glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s out of order.”

  “Yes, I figured that out from the sign. How can you work in a suite that has no working bathroom?”

  “There’s a Porta Potty in the parking lot. It’s there for … um … emergency situations.”

  “That sounds lovely.” I said the words even though I thought that sounded like a version of Hell that even I wouldn’t be comfortable visiting. “So you have to go outside if nature calls?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad to see Mr. Ludington is taking such good care of his workers.” I flashed a grin that I was sure came off evil. I didn’t believe Honor was all that smart, so I wasn’t worried about her figuring out I had ulterior motives. “How long have you been working for Mr. Ludington?”

  “Since he filed to run for election.”

  “Uh-huh. Does he pay you okay? I mean, I know you have to go outside to heed the call of nature in actual nature, but otherwise does he treat you okay?”

  “Heed the call of nature in nature?” Honor knit her eyebrows. “That’s kind of funny. I never thought of it that way.”

  Apparently Tad was getting his election aides from the dull side of the county. That was the only explanation I could come up with. I wasn’t all that surprised, though. “Yes, well, I’ve considered being a stand-up comedienne in my free time. I have to wait until my tenure at clown college is finished.”

  “That sounds exciting.” Honor’s eyes sparkled. “As for pay, I’m a volunteer. I don’t get paid anything.”

  That figured. “Why would you possibly volunteer for something like this?”

  “I … .” For the first time, Honor eyed me with something akin to suspicion. “Why would you ask that?”

  It was time to spin a tale. “Well, I’ve been visiting various candidates for the county commission seat and I’m trying to get a feel for their values before I cast my vote. It’s an important decision.”

  “Oh.” Honor pursed her lips. “I guess that makes sense.”

  That made no sense, but she was too slow to realize it. That meant she might be an important ally when it came to information gathering. “Yes. I want to make sure the candidate I vote for treats his workers – or, in this case, his volunteers – with respect.”

  “Mr. Ludington definitely does that.” Honor emphatically bobbed her head. “Every day when he stops in he asks me how things are going and tells me he thinks I’m pretty.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “He hits on you?”

  “Of course not. I’m young enough to be his daughter.”

  I wouldn’t go that far. We went to college together. Tad was two years older than me. At best he was old enough to be her big brother. Of course, with his receding hairline and propensity for whining, I could see why she thought he was older than he was.

  “Okay, well … tell me what Mr. Ludington is like as a boss.”

  “He’s super fun.”

  “How?”

  “Well, he makes a lot of jokes,” Honor explained. “I don’t always know that they’re jokes, but he laughs and I realize they’re jokes afterward. I know they’re good jokes because he tells them.”

  Oh, well, that just figured. “He sounds like a king amongst mere mortals.”

  “He’s really great,” Honor enthused. “I’m learning a lot from him. I’m glad this is how the assignment turned out.”

  Something about the way she phrased the statement niggled the back of my brain. “Assignment?”

  “I’m a student at Oakland University. As part of my political science class, we had to volunteer with local candidates. I got Mr. Ludington.”

  “Oh, that explains it.” I wrinkled my forehead. “You didn’t choose to work for him. You got assigned to him. No wonder you’re so perky. You have to pretend you’re enjoying yourself because you’re worried it will get back to your instructor if you say otherwise.”

  I was secretly relieved to have figured it out. “You don’t have to worry about pretending to like Tad with me. You can say what you really feel.”

  Honor’s bland expression disappeared in an instant. “Who are you?”

  She suddenly appeared smarter than I originally thought. I was both relieved and nervous about that.

  “My name is Avery Shaw.”

  Honor’s mouth dropped open. “Hey! We’re not supposed to allow you in here. Mr. Ludington says you’re the Devil and we’re supposed to kick you out if you walk through the door.”

  “You can try.” I easily had three inches and twenty pounds on Honor. I wasn’t worried about her picking a fight. “You could also answer my questions and that will force me to leave quicker.”

  “I can’t answer your questions. Mr. Ludington said he would fire anyone who did. He warned us specifically about you.”

  “What if I ask you questions off the record and don’t quote you?”

  Honor stilled. “Well … I’m not sure.”

  She clearly wanted to gossip about Tad. I was practically salivating at the thought. She was a smart girl who pretended to be dumb for a grade. That meant she probably had really good stuff.

  “I swear I will never use your name,” I promised. “I’m here because your co-worker was found dead this morning and I’m trying to dig up information on him.”

  “My co-worker?” Honor was back to being confused. “Which co-worker?”

  “Terry Brucker.”

  Honor looked stunned, the color washing from her features. “Is this a joke?”

  “No.”

  “But … I saw Terry last night.”

  “So did I. He’s dead
now.”

  “How?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t have that information. “He was fished from the Clinton River this morning. He’s at the medical examiner’s office now. I’m not sure how he died.”

  “Does Mr. Ludington know?”

  “He does. He was at the scene this morning.”

  “Was he upset?”

  The question struck me as odd. “He was upset because Terry supposedly had some election documents with him. He didn’t seem all that upset about Terry.”

  “Do you think he killed Terry?”

  “I don’t know.” That wasn’t altogether true. I didn’t trust Tad at all, but I didn’t believe he was capable of murder. He was far too squeamish to do the dirty work himself and he probably couldn’t afford a hitman.

  “Well, I just don’t know what to make of this.” Honor leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “I liked Terry. He was a good guy.”

  “Was he a volunteer because of college, too?”

  Honor absently nodded. “Trust me. No one would’ve volunteered for Mr. Ludington unless we were forced to do it. He’s a real … douche.”

  Ah. Finally we were getting somewhere. “He’s a total douche,” I agreed. “In fact, I heard they’re debating putting his face next to the word ‘douche’ in the dictionary. There are so many photographs to choose from they’re having trouble making a decision and it’s delaying the process.”

  Honor snorted, amused. “I can tell that his warnings about you were spot on. You clearly don’t like him.”

  “Oh, I hate him.” I saw no reason to lie, especially because Honor seemed to want to commiserate about Tad’s douchiness. “He’s a complete and total used tampon in the dirty toilet of life.”

  Honor choked out a laugh. “I never would’ve thought to say something like that. I kind of like you.”

  “Good. I need to know what Tad is doing here. Is he up to something nefarious or just plain stupid?”

  “You’re sure this is off the record, right?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I don’t know exactly what he’s up to,” Honor explained. “He doesn’t share his vision with everyone.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “He has some master election plan, but he only believes boys are smart enough to understand what it is.”

  “Oh, well, that seems about right. Did he hit on you?”

  “Yes. He insisted that all female volunteers wear skirts. Since I’m the only female, that’s a bit uncomfortable.”

  “Kick him in the nuts. He can’t require you to wear skirts.”

  “He can make it so I fail the class, and I’m close to graduating,” Honor explained. “I can’t afford a delay now.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll kick him in the nuts next time I see him. He won’t know it’s from you, but you’ll know. That’s what’s important.”

  Honor didn’t bother hiding her mirth. “I definitely like you.”

  “I’m likable when I hate the person you also happen to hate,” I said. “As for Tad, can you tell me anything good?”

  “There’s honestly not much to tell. He only comes in once a day – and sometimes not even that much – and he’s secretive to the point of being obsessive.”

  “Secretive?”

  “He’s convinced people are spying on him.”

  “Me or real people?”

  “He’s definitely convinced you’re spying on him,” Honor replied. “He says that you’re trying to ruin his chances to be elected and he has to look at you as if you’re Satan and he’s Jesus in the fight for salvation.”

  Oh, well, that wasn’t dramatic or anything. “Did he phrase it like that?”

  Honor nodded. “He said you’re evil and told us if we let you inside the building he’d fire us. So, if you run into him, make sure you don’t tell him I let you into the building.”

  “I won’t. I’m going to want some of those signs by the wall on my way out, but I won’t.”

  Honor arched an eyebrow. “What are you going to do with the signs?”

  “You really don’t want to know.”

  “Probably not.” She let loose a sigh. “I don’t know what to tell you about Terry. I didn’t know him all that well. We were paired together in our political science class and assigned to Mr. Ludington. No one wanted him because the stories about him were legendary, but we didn’t get a choice in the matter.”

  “Did Tad know you were assigned to him or did he think you made the decision?”

  “We told him we were assigned – we couldn’t be sure what the professor told him and didn’t want to be caught in a lie – but we added that we were really happy because he was our first choice. In truth, he was no one’s choice. We lost by default.”

  “Who did everyone want to work for?”

  “Richard Aiken and Elizabeth Justice. We all agreed they were the frontrunners.”

  I couldn’t argue with that. “So Tad told Terry his plan, but not you, and he did that simply because you’re a girl?”

  “He told me he didn’t think I could understand what he was talking about,” Honor sneered. “He said it wasn’t my fault, that the female brain was simply too small to comprehend strategy. He thought I was perfect for handing out literature and signs, but Terry was better for strategizing.”

  If I didn’t already hate Tad I’d be looking for a bottle of lighter fluid and a few matches right about now. “Did you tell your professor what he said?”

  “Yes, but it didn’t matter. He said I had to learn to deal with difficult people and to suck it up.”

  “And that’s why you created that airheaded persona I saw when I first came in,” I noted. “You turned it into something of a game.”

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “No. Don’t worry. I would’ve done exactly the same thing in your position.”

  “Thanks.” We lapsed into amiable silence as I thought about the situation and Honor absorbed the reality of her co-worker’s death. She was the first to speak again. “What happens now?”

  “Now I try to find out how Terry died and if he really did have important documents with him when it happened.”

  “Do you think he was murdered?”

  I hesitated as I pictured the body that was dragged from the water. “I think it’s a possibility.”

  “Well … good luck.”

  “Thanks.” I slowly got to my feet. “I’ll probably be in touch again once I know more about what’s going on.”

  “Sure.” Honor nodded, the eerie smile she boasted when I first walked through the door back on her face. “Don’t forget your signs and to kick Mr. Ludington next time you see him.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t forget.”

  6 Six

  My conversation with Honor was interesting, but hardly earth-shattering. Finding out Tad was a douche with sexual harassment tendencies was hardly life-changing information. Still, I knew Honor would be a good source of information down the line … as long as I kept her happy and tortured Tad without him knowing it was on her behalf.

  I was more than up for that.

  On my way back to Mount Clemens I swung by the rougher neighborhoods hidden behind the pleasant downtown area. I stopped long enough to spray paint derogatory statements on the pilfered election signs and place them on lawns in front of vacant houses. They actually brightened up the neighborhood, which was a little sad.

  This wasn’t my normal milieu, but ever since meeting a few rough-and-tumble faces from the area I’d made a point to keep up relationships and occasionally stop by for brief chats. Eliot wasn’t thrilled that I insisted on hanging out with “thugs.” That was his word, by the way. I thought the group of twenty-something toughs hanging out on the wrong side of Gratiot was a fun diversion and occasionally good for a laugh. Eliot would have a fit when he found out I’d decided to visit, but he’d survive. Of course, lying about my visit was also an option I hadn’t ruled out. It would depend on what sort o
f mood Eliot was in when I saw him next.

  Andre (no last name because he thought he was too cool for school … like Madonna) sat on a chair in the driveway, a beer in hand, and raised an eyebrow when he snagged my gaze as I got out of the car. The smart thing to do would’ve been to lock my vehicle given the number of aggressive faces staring in my direction, but I’ve never been known for my brains. My brashness, though, that was a different story.

  “What’s the haps?”

  Andre snorted rather than being offended. “You’re a trip, girl. Anyone else saying something like that to me wouldn’t like the outcome. When you say it, it’s somehow funny.”

  “I have that effect on people,” I agreed, taking the open chair next to him and accepting the soda one of his cohorts handed me. “What’s the word on this side of town?”

  “What’s the word on this side of town on a normal day?”

  I had no idea. “I don’t know. Why do you think I asked?”

  One of the few girls hanging out with the gaggle of guys shot me a dirty look. I didn’t often see girls hanging around Andre and his crew – mostly because I figured it was too dangerous – but this one seemed comfortable with the setup and her eyes were constantly on Andre even as her butt cheeks hung out the bottom of her shorts. Hmm.

  “I think you asked because you say whatever you feel like saying and don’t care if you piss anyone off,” Andre shot back.

  “So?”

  “So I think it’s funny, and that’s why I don’t mind when you stop by even though it gets the neighbors talking,” Andre replied. “They think we’re having an affair or something.”

  Oh, well, that was interesting. “Do they think I’m one of your hos?”

  “You know that’s racist to say stuff like that, don’t ya?”

  “How? I call women hos all the time and I don’t care if they’re black or white. As for the other thing, half the guys in your yard are packing and you’ve already admitted to being gangbangers. I don’t know why you’re suddenly so delicate and whiny. It’s really unattractive.”