3 Buried Leads Read online

  “Yeah.”

  I went back into the bedroom and shut the door. “Dinner and a movie will be fine. She’s going to visit her boyfriend back at rehab.”

  The incredulous silence on the other end of the phone stretched into what felt like infinity. Finally, Eliot broke it. “She picked up a guy in rehab?”

  “Yeah.” I don’t know why he was so surprised.

  “He must be a real winner.”

  “I picked up you in a pawnshop,” I pointed out.

  “First off, I picked you up,” Eliot corrected me. “Second off, I happen to own that pawnshop.”

  I didn’t want to point out that his clarification wouldn’t exactly work for everyone, but I didn’t feel like now was the right time. “The good news is that she will be out of here in two weeks,” I said brightly.

  “What’s the bad news? Wait . . . I’m not sure I want to know.”

  He definitely didn’t want to know. “She’s moving in with this new guy. They’re soul mates.”

  “Nope. I didn’t want to know.”

  The next morning – well, mid-morning – Lexie and I went to downtown Mount Clemens for breakfast. I didn’t particularly care where we went – but Lexie wanted a good old fashioned Coney Island breakfast, so I took her to the best one in the area.

  We both ordered eggs and hash browns. I had tomato juice, while Lexie had coffee. We shared a copy of The Monitor, with me perusing the news section and her looking through the classified ads. After a leisurely breakfast, we both got up to leave. Lexie grabbed my wrist and twisted it hard. “Don’t turn around,” she whispered.

  I was momentarily confused. “Why?”

  “Just trust me.”

  “How am I going to leave the building if I don’t turn around?”

  Lexie bit her lip. “Okay, turn around. Try not to scream, though.”

  I slowly turned around. I don’t know what I was expecting. A naked guy with a hangover, perhaps, or maybe a guy dressed up like a clown. What I saw, though, was something completely different. Jake was entering the building. He was dressed casually for the day – obviously he wasn’t working – and he wasn’t alone.

  A tall and willowy blonde followed him into the building and they were chatting amiably. He hadn’t seen me yet.

  “Do you want to crawl under the table?” Lexie offered helpfully.

  “No,” I scoffed. I considered it silently for a second. No, that will never work. He’d eventually see me.

  “What do you want to do?” Lexie’s eyes were so big I thought they were going to pop out of her head. She was panicking. I had no idea why. All I knew is that now that she was panicking, I was starting to panic, too. What a mess.

  “We’re not going to do anything,” I cautioned her. “If he notices us, fine, we’ll say hi and go on our way.”

  “And if he doesn’t notice us?”

  “Then I’ll know I’ve suddenly been imbued with that super power I always wanted,” I mumbled.

  “I thought you wanted to be able to turn into the Incredible Hulk?” That would be cool.

  “Just, let’s go,” I grabbed her wrist and started to lead her out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, I’d inadvertently grabbed her arm so hard she yelped in pain. All eyes in the restaurant swiveled to us – including Jake’s. Crap.

  Jake smirked when he saw us. “Avery,” he greeted me stiffly. He was clearly amused by our antics, but still mad from the previous case we had all been involved in together.

  “Jake,” I smiled back at him. I could only hope the smile looked genuine and not deranged.

  “Lexie.” The tone of Jake’s voice dropped a decibel. He sounded even more disappointed to see her than me. That was at least something.

  “Hey, Jake,” Lexie said smoothly. “How are things?”

  “How are things with you?” He raised an eyebrow and regarded her speculatively.

  “You know, I just got out of rehab.”

  “How did that go?”

  Lexie shrugged. I could tell she was nervous. Still, she was trying to hold it together for me at this point. “You know shaking, vomiting, meditating – the usual.”

  “Sounds like you learned a lot,” Jake said, motioning for his super model date to take a seat in the booth across the aisle from us. She hadn’t spoken yet – which I was profoundly grateful for. “Hopefully it will stick,” he admonished Lexie.

  “Oh, I’m sure it will,” Lexie twiddled her thumbs nervously. “I’m staying at Avery’s for the next two weeks – and she won’t let me fall off the wagon.” I think Lexie meant for that to be encouraging. Jake grimaced when he heard it, though.

  “She’s staying with you?”

  “Yes.” The word came out in an uncomfortable squeak.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “Why not?”

  “You know why,” he said. “Why don’t you stay in the apartment above the restaurant?” He turned to Lexie.

  “Sally is staying there.”

  “Why is Sally staying there?” Jake had grown up in close proximity to my family. He knew who all the players were.

  “She left Steve,” Lexie said.

  “Why?”

  “He’s a dick.”

  “Hasn’t he always been a dick?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Watching Lexie and Jake converse, felt like I was in a weird episode of the Twilight Zone for a second. Their distraction with each other allowed Jake’s girlfriend and me to size each other up. I didn’t get the feeling that she felt all that intimidated.

  “So Sally left Steve? Why don’t you go home and move in with your mom?” Jake suggested. What was his deal? Why did he even care?

  “I’m only staying with Avery for two weeks,” Lexie pointed out. “I have a new boyfriend and when he gets out of rehab we’re moving in together.”

  “You met a boyfriend in rehab?” I could tell Jake wasn’t exactly impressed by that fact.

  “Yeah. We want to get our own place in the city. And, besides, with Avery sleeping with Eliot now, I don’t think she wants me around that long.” As soon as she said the words, Lexie realized her mistake. She shot me an apologetic look.

  I was frozen in fear – well, not exactly fear, but shock. I knew Jake would have to find out eventually, but I couldn’t imagine a worse time for him to hear the news.

  I saw the muscle in Jake’s cheek work for a second. Then he fixed a set glare on me. “You and Kane are officially an item now, huh?”

  I thought about lying. I figured that was the wrong move, though. Not only would the truth eventually come out, but if the fact that I lied about our relationship ever made it back to Eliot he would be hurt – and I didn’t want that. I decided to do something I wasn’t accustomed to: tell the truth. “We are.” I squared my shoulders and waited for the diatribe about how dangerous Eliot was to rain down on me. It never came, though.

  “I’m happy for you,” Jake said stiffly. I could tell he wasn’t really happy. Still, he was trying not to unload on me – so that was at least something.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “This is Shelly,” he finally introduced the woman at his side. For her part, she had watched the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and rampant jealousy. I knew the feeling.

  Since Jake was being such an adult, though, I decided I should probably try to do the same. I extended my hand to Shelly and introduced myself. “I’m Avery.”

  “You’re the reporter for The Monitor?” I could tell Shelly wasn’t completely up to speed on my past with Jake. I figured that it wasn’t exactly my job to tell her.

  “I am,” I said.

  “The one that stole evidence from a crime scene?”

  I shot a dark look in Jake’s direction. So much for being adults. “I didn’t steal evidence,” I corrected her. “I borrowed a flash drive and I forgot I had it.”

  “That’s called stealing,” Jake challenged me.

  “No it’s not,” I shot back.
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  “Yes it is!” Jake’s face was starting to get red. He was going to pop a gasket.

  “I guess we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” I huffed.

  “I guess so.”

  Jake and I stared each other down for a few minutes. Finally, Lexie stepped in and started to pull me away. “We should be going,” she said apologetically.

  I let Lexie pull me out of the building, but not before I shot one last dark glare back in Jake’s direction. “He has a lot of nerve,” I grumbled.

  Just before the door swung shut behind us, I heard Shelly’s melodic voice waft through the open space. “It was nice to meet you.”

  I made a move to charge back through the doors but Lexie stopped me. “It’s not worth it.”

  “She did that on purpose,” I challenged.

  “Oh, she’s a total whore,” Lexie agreed. “But if you go back in there things are going to get ugly.”

  “They’re already ugly.”

  “Uglier,” Lexie corrected herself.

  “Great,” I growled.

  “Look at it this way, at least you don’t have to tell him about Eliot now.”

  Thank the world for small favors.

  Twelve

  The next day I woke up with what felt like a raging hangover. Since I hadn’t had anything alcoholic to drink, I blamed Jake. It was just like him to purposely give me a migraine.

  I had gone to dinner with Eliot last night, but I hadn’t told him about my run-in with Jake. Until I figured out how I felt about the situation, I couldn’t put into words what had happened. If he asked, I would tell him that I told Jake about us. I wouldn’t give him all the gritty details, though. I didn’t figure anyone needed to know those. I was there, and even I didn’t want to know.

  I left Lexie still asleep. She had promised she would look for a job in the afternoon. I figured that was a 50-50 proposition at best.

  Instead of going into the office, I headed straight out to the Frank house in Romeo. Fish had texted me the night before and told me that I should check in with Brian Frank and do a follow-up on his missing wife. I think Fish was anticipating – like I was – that the story would turn into more in the future.

  When I got out to the Frank house, I wasn’t surprised to see more media than the first time. Two of the four local television stations were there, and both the big Detroit dailies. This was in addition to representatives from three local weeklies and another smaller daily from St. Clair County. Media can smell blood in the water. We’re like sharks that way. I think everyone was holding their breath and waiting for this thing to explode into a media frenzy.

  When I got out of the car, I was surprised to see Eliot’s truck parked up the street. What was he doing here?

  I looked around to see if I could find him, but I didn’t see him anywhere. I stepped up to the media throng. “Where’s everyone at?” I asked.

  “They’re not out yet,” said the Channel 2 reporter I had fought with the other day answered dismissively.

  Devon Lange, the Channel 4 reporter, turned to me with a bright smile. “Avery,” she greeted me with false excitement.

  “Devon,” I nodded. We pretended we didn’t loathe each other on sight – mostly for Derrick’s sake. I could only hope he would be able to see through her façade sooner – rather than later – and I would never have to see her again. Okay, that was wishful thinking. Still, the longer he dated her the more she irritated me. I was convinced that was the only reason he kept dating her.

  I noticed Tony Winters walk out of the Frank house and head our way. I was glad that he was still in charge of the investigation. After my uncomfortable run-in with Jake yesterday, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing him again.

  “Is he on his way out?” I asked Tony.

  “Yeah,” Tony said. “He’s just finishing something up.”

  “Are we expecting any big developments today?” I asked him.

  “No,” Tony feigned surprise. “Should we be?” If I wasn’t convinced before that law enforcement was hiding something from me, I would be now. I don’t know who they think they’re messing with.

  When Tony sauntered over to chat with the Detroit daily representatives, I felt Devon at my elbow. “What do you think they’re hiding?” She asked.

  I was surprised. I didn’t think she had the brain matter to catch on to the fact that something else was going on. “I have no idea. Whatever it is, though, I think it’s big.”

  “Yeah. I think they think she’s dead,” Devon said.

  “Me, too,” I admitted. “I think they think it’s the husband – but they can’t prove it.”

  “Of course they think it’s the husband. Law enforcement always thinks it’s the husband,” she scoffed. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d shared her disdain for law enforcement lethargy to Derrick. Despite myself, though, I liked her a smidgen more than I had before.

  “Who do you think did it?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely the husband,” Devon answered. “Have you seen his eyes? No innocent person has eyes like that.”

  What? That’s a totally reasonable assumption.

  “How do you think he did it?” Devon mulled over the question. We were starting to draw interest from the other reporters, and they were closing in on us.

  “I think he probably shot her,” Devon finally said.

  “There’s no gun registered in his name,” one of the weekly writers supplied. “I did a background check.”

  “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t own a gun,” Devon laughed. “Just that he doesn’t legally own a handgun.”

  She had a point.

  “I think he strangled her,” one of the Detroit daily reporters answered. “He looks like a guy that would strangle someone.”

  He did look like a guy that would strangle someone.

  Devon turned to me expectantly. I had no idea how she had died. Still, I felt pressured to offer some sort of answer – even if I wasn’t serious. “I think he chopped her into bits and hid her in one of the parks,” I finally said.

  The Channel 2 reporter, Ariel Cook, gave me a dirty look. “You shouldn’t be joking about stuff like this. This is a wife and mother here. You guys shouldn’t be acting like assholes. You make us all look bad.”

  Devon and I shared a mutinous grimace. She’d learn. And, if nothing else, a common enemy was now bringing us closer together. I couldn’t help but wonder – for a second at least – if this would make Derrick happy or completely infuriate him.

  I didn’t get a chance to dwell on the question that long. The front door to the Frank house had swung open again and Brian Frank was now heading in our direction. He looked even more disheveled than he had a few days ago. If I had to guess, he hadn’t showered (or shaved) in that entire time. It didn’t look like he was getting more than a few hours of sleep a night either – at least if his red-rimmed eyes were any indication.

  While Brian Frank’s appearance was jarring, my eyes fixed on the figure at his side as he exited his house. It was a familiar figure: Eliot. He met my gaze as he crossed the lawn. His expression was hard to read. Mine was grim. What the hell was he doing here?

  Brian Frank greeted everyone like we were old acquaintances. He even tried to move in for a hug a couple of times – only with women, go figure – but most sidestepped him. That wasn’t how we were used to doing business.

  He started the press conference by saying that hundreds of leads had been called in to the sheriff’s department – including sightings in other countries – and he was hopeful that Sarah would be found relatively soon.

  I tried to gauge Tony’s reaction to Brian’s comments – but Tony barely moved. Brian also announced that thanks to his wife’s company, an accounting firm in Detroit, he was able to offer a $25,000 reward for information that led to her safe return.

  After repeating – almost verbatim – his pleas that his wife come home, Brian Frank turned over the news conference for questions.

  “Who’s
your hot friend,” Ariel asked, smiling flirtatiously in Eliot’s direction.

  “This is Eliot Kane,” Brian introduced Eliot. “He’s a local investigator and I’ve hired him to try and help me track down leads.”

  Investigator? I regarded Eliot solemnly for a second. I didn’t question his credentials, though.

  “That’s probably pretty smart,” Ariel said sagely. “If he’s a professional, he’ll know better places to look.”

  Brian Frank shot Ariel a grateful look. “Thanks. That’s what I thought, too.”

  Oh, gag me.

  After a few more questions, Brian ended the press conference. He reminded everyone that he was available on his own personal cell phone should we have more questions. I sidled over to Tony when I was sure no one was looking and regarded him seriously for a moment. “Where are you guys looking for her?”

  Tony met my gaze evenly. I could tell I was making him nervous. “We’re not looking anywhere specific, Ms. Shaw,” he stressed my name. “We’re asking for the public’s help. She’s out there somewhere. Someone knows where she is. We just need people to call in tips.”

  Right.

  I watched as Ariel scooted in closer to Eliot. She put her hand on his arm to get his attention. “Mr. Kane, I would love to get your thoughts on how the investigation should proceed,” I heard her giggle breathlessly. “Maybe we could talk about that over lunch.”

  I saw Eliot’s gaze lift and meet mine. I could see a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “I’m not here to talk to the press, Miss . . . “ I couldn’t help but smirk to myself that Eliot had no idea who she was.

  “Call me Ariel,” she interjected. “Like The Little Mermaid.”

  “Ariel,” Eliot looked uncomfortable. “I won’t be doing any press.”

  I saw Eliot’s gaze shoot to me again. I could feel my cheeks starting to color.

  “Doesn’t look that way to me,” Tony scoffed.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” Tony said with a false innocent air. “I was just commenting on how it looks like he’s doing at least one member of the press.”

  I gave Tony a dirty look. “Who told you that?”

  “The two of you just did,” he laughed. “I’m a trained investigator – and you two aren’t doing a very good job of hiding your feelings.”