3 Buried Leads Page 8

  I fixed Tony with my best PMS look. “Okay,” he conceded. “Derrick might have mentioned it.”

  I knew it!

  “And Jake might have mentioned something about it yesterday at the gun range.”

  Uh-oh.

  “You went to the gun range with Jake?”

  “Yeah. He was in a bad mood. That’s where we always go when he’s in a bad mood.”

  “Why was he in a bad mood?” I asked cautiously.

  “I don’t know,” Tony shrugged.

  My rampant narcissistic streak was hoping he was jealous of me and Eliot. My practical side figured it was probably something more. I decided to change the subject. “Is Eliot a licensed private investigator?”

  “Isn’t that something you should ask him?”

  “I guess,” I said finally. “It just didn’t occur to me.”

  “He’s been involved in quite a few cases,” Tony said.

  Eliot was still trying to extricate himself from Ariel, I noticed. Maybe I should go save him? Instead, I was surprised to see Brian Frank step in front of me.

  “Ms. Shaw,” he said, extending his hand in greeting. I took it warily. “I just wanted to thank you personally for coming out here.”

  “It’s my job,” I said simply.

  “I know. It’s just that you’ve got a sterling reputation and I’m so glad that a reporter of your caliber is on my wife’s case.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was making fun of me or not. The fact that Tony was shaking with silent laughter beside me didn’t fill me with a lot of hope that he was being sincere.

  “Well, thank you,” I said finally.

  I noticed Eliot making his way over to the two of us. He was regarding Brian Frank somewhat warily. “Mr. Kane, this is Avery Shaw. She’s a reporter for The Monitor.”

  “I know Ms. Shaw,” Eliot said finally.

  “You do?” Brian seemed surprised.

  “We’ve crossed paths before,” Eliot said briefly.

  “I bet,” Tony snickered under his breath. I shot him a dirty look.

  Brian Frank seemed oblivious. “I was just telling her how happy we are to have her on the case.”

  Eliot nodded, but he didn’t say anything. I was starting to feel decidedly uncomfortable, so I excused myself. “I have to go back to the office and write my story,” I explained.

  “Of course,” Brian said. “It’s such a glamorous job.”

  I shook my head briefly and started to move away. I saw Eliot mime a telephone near his head. I nodded and kept moving away. His message was clear; he would call and explain as soon as he could get away from Brian Frank.

  I couldn’t wait for the explanation.

  As I started to move away, my own cell phone started to ring. I answered it without looking to see who was calling. I was stunned when I realized who was on the other end of the line.

  “Hey, Jake,” I said warily.

  I saw Eliot stiffen next to Brian Frank out of the corner of my eye.

  “I need to talk to you,” Jake said.

  “About what?”

  “The Frank case,” he said briefly.

  “Okay,” I said warily.

  “Can you meet me for lunch?”

  “I guess I can do that,” I said reluctantly.

  “You want to go to the Coney?” If Jake was aware of my uncomfortable situation right now, he didn’t let on. Of course, if I had to guess, he wouldn’t care either way. Bothering Eliot would just be a bonus in his book right now.

  “That’s fine,” I sighed.

  “Good. See you in a half an hour?”

  I glanced at Eliot, who was still staring at me with a grave look on his face.

  “Better make it forty-five minutes,” I said.

  Thirteen

  I could tell Eliot wanted to question me about my call from Jake – but he also didn’t want to cause a scene in front of his new client. He settled for standing at Brian Frank’s side and casting me speculative looks from a few feet away.

  Tony Winters wasn’t as subtle. “What did Jake want?”

  I felt a sudden urge to smack Tony – or gag him. “He said he had something specific he wanted to talk to me about regarding the case,” I said carefully, glancing up at Eliot briefly. He didn’t look happy.

  Tony was as oblivious as ever. “That’s weird. Why would he want to give you special information?”

  Maybe because he wanted to talk about our ridiculously uncomfortable run-in yesterday. “I have no idea.”

  I said my goodbyes to everyone, exchanging one last furtive look with Eliot, and then headed off to my meeting lunch with Jake. During the half hour drive, I couldn’t help but run crazy scenarios of what was about to happen through my head.

  In one, Jake announced he had fallen in love with Shelly at first sight and they were getting married because she was pregnant. Unlikely, I know.

  In the second, Jake announced he had dumped Shelly right after he saw me because he couldn’t live without me anymore. Even more unlikely.

  In the third, Eliot raced into the Coney and he and Jake fought to the death to see whom I would end up with. You can see why I shouldn’t be left with my own thoughts very often. My mind is a dangerous – and preposterous – place.

  By the time I reached the Coney, I had worked myself into a nervous little ball of energy. This wouldn’t be good.

  I stopped outside the door long enough to catch my breath. Then I squared my shoulders, caught my reflection in the glass of the door briefly, and entered the restaurant. I wasn’t surprised to see Jake already sitting at a booth and sipping from a cup of coffee.

  He looked up when he heard the door open. He didn’t smile when he saw me. I guess he wasn’t about to admit his undying love. I was so focused on Jake, I didn’t notice when I stepped in front of a waitress – causing her to veer off to the left and drop the tray she was carrying with a loud clatter. Everyone in the restaurant turned in my direction.

  “I’m so sorry,” I bent down to try and help the waitress pick up the plates she had just scattered across the floor.

  “You should watch where you’re walking,” she admonished me.

  “I didn’t see you,” I offered lamely.

  “I’ve got it,” the waitress growled.

  “Let me help.”

  She slapped my hand away anxiously. “I said I’ve got it.”

  I stood back up and turned back towards Jake. I could see he was doubled over the table and shaking with laughter. “It’s not funny,” I grumbled as I slid into the booth across from him.

  “It’s pretty funny,” he sputtered.

  Whatever.

  A different waitress made her way over to the table. She slid a glance over to her co-worker, who was muttering under her breath as she continued to clean up the dishes, and then turned back to us. “Do you know what you want?”

  “I’ll have two Coneys, an order of chili fries and a large diet pop,” I said.

  Jake raised an eyebrow as he regarded me. “Quite a refined palate you’ve got there,” he said. “I especially like how you ordered 2,000 calories of food and then finished it off with a diet pop.”

  “I don’t want to get fat,” I shrugged.

  Jake smirked. The tension was obviously broken – for the time being, at least.

  I watched as he ordered a Greek salad – with dressing on the side – and then waited until the waitress had walked away. He then turned his attention to me. “I’m glad you agreed to come,” he said finally.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” That was a loaded question, I know.

  “Yesterday,” Jake said simply.

  I decided to play dumb. “What happened yesterday?”

  Jake shook his head. “Don’t do that. I don’t have time to sit here and watch you play games.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I sniffed.

  “Avery, let’s not do this. Let’s pretend we’re adults.”

  Pretend being the operative word.

&nbs
p; “Fine. What about yesterday?”

  “I want to apologize for introducing Shelly to you that way.”

  “You don’t owe me anything,” I reminded him.

  “I know I don’t. It’s just that . . . I don’t know . . . our lives are so intertwined. The whole situation was surreal. Especially with Lexie there.”

  “Lexie never helps any situation,” I reminded him. “You’ve been around her long enough to know that.”

  Jake ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “I know. It was just such a ridiculous situation.”

  No more ridiculous than any other situation in my life.

  “Shelly seems nice,” I said finally.

  “She is,” Jake nodded.

  “How long have you been dating?”

  “About six weeks.”

  Wait, what? I ran the math through my head. That didn’t quite add up. “You were dating her during that whole Oxy trade scandal?”

  Jake met my gaze evenly. “I had just started.”

  I wracked my brain. If that were true, why did I remember him flirting with me? What an ass. “Well . . . good for you,” I forced out.

  “I didn’t know, back then, if it was going anywhere,” Jake clarified.

  “You don’t owe me any explanations,” I repeated. “It’s really none of my business.”

  Jake watched my face. I don’t know what he was looking for, and quite frankly I was so infuriated I didn’t care. I had been dreading telling him about Eliot, feeling guilty about it, and he had been lying for weeks. I felt like such an idiot.

  “You sound angry,” he said.

  “I’m not angry,” I lied.

  “You sound angry,” he repeated.

  “I’m not angry.”

  “Well . . . you sound angry.”

  “I’m not angry!” My voice was starting to carry across the restaurant.

  “Fine, you’re not angry,” Jake acquiesced.

  We sat in silent for a few minutes. Thankfully, the waitress picked now to deliver our food. I dug into the greasy goodness and steadfastly tried to pretend that Jake wasn’t staring at me from across the table. After eating in silence for a few minutes, Jake couldn’t take the uncomfortable vibe emanating from the table. For my part, I had chosen to ignore it.

  “I don’t see why you’re so angry,” Jake started.

  “Don’t start that again,” I growled.

  “Seriously. You’ve been dating Kane for weeks, and yet you’re angry at me?”

  “I have not been dating him for weeks,” I scoffed.

  Jake looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve only been dating for a couple of days,” I corrected him. “Our first official date was Friday.”

  Jake took in the new information and mulled it for a minute. “I thought you had been dating since he got shot,” he admitted.

  “Why would that possibly matter? You’ve been dating Shelly since before that time.” For the life of me, I couldn’t explain why this was bothering me so much. It’s not like I didn’t know Jake dated – it’s the fact that he had hidden it from me for so long that was driving me insane.

  “I know but . . . if I had known . . . I,” Jake was stumbling over his words.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. This conversation wasn’t going to get us anywhere, and I was done trying to pretend that I wasn’t completely irritated with him. “It doesn’t matter now. What did you want to talk about regarding the Frank case?” I was suddenly all business.

  Jake noticed the shift in my attitude. If he wanted to challenge it, he obviously thought better of it. “I know you’ve been asking Tony some pointed questions,” he finally said.

  “Define pointed.”

  “You keep insinuating that we’re hiding information from you,” Jake said.

  “You are.”

  Jake shot me a dark look. “Why do you say that?”

  “I’m not new, Jake. I know it’s weird for the sheriff’s department to hold press conferences on a missing woman at the home of that missing woman – and in conjunction with her husband.”

  “Just because we haven’t done it before, that doesn’t mean it’s weird,” Jake argued vehemently.

  “Right,” I said sarcastically. “Jake, you know I’m not going to believe that – no matter how you try to dress it up – so I have to wonder what your real purpose in calling me here was?”

  “I just want to tell you that you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Jake said, shifting his gaze to the left as he said the words. That’s a sign of lying. I knew it!

  “I think you’re worried I’m going to ruin whatever little operation you’ve got going on,” I countered.

  “I think you’re paranoid,” Jake shot back. “I think you’ve got some little conspiracy theory running around your overactive imagination.”

  “Say you’re right, why do you care?”

  Jake looked blank. “What do you mean?”

  “If it’s all in my head, what are you worried about?”

  I had clearly hit a nerve, because Jake shifted uncomfortably. “I think you’re missing the point.”

  “No, I’m not,” I said triumphantly. “You think she’s dead and he did it and you’re letting him hold press conferences out at the house because it gives you access to the house without naming him as a suspect.”

  “That’s . . . that’s just ridiculous,” Jake sputtered.

  “I’m right. I know it.”

  “You haven’t told anyone else your theory, have you?” Jake looked perplexed.

  I shook my head and smiled to myself. “No, I haven’t, Jake. I’m not in the habit of sharing my news gathering skills with others.”

  “Skills?”

  Luck, skills, whatever.

  “I knew I was on the right track. Tony is a terrible liar.” I was happily patting myself on the back for my superior deductive skills.

  “I don’t want you spreading this theory around,” Jake warned me.

  I met Jake’s gaze evenly. I knew he was worried I was going to start investigating this story – and it would screw up what he was trying to do. “I won’t spread my theory around,” I reluctantly agreed.

  “And maybe you should pass this story on to someone else at the paper,” Jake prodded.

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. “I’m not going to request a change in assignments.”

  “Try to be professional,” Jake said.

  “I’m always professional.”

  Jake glanced at my Harold and Maude shirt and then eyed me doubtfully.

  “We both have a job to do, Jake,” I said, ignoring his dubious wardrobe assessment. “Why don’t we focus on our jobs and let things happen as they’re going to happen and go from there?”

  “Fine,” Jake said shortly. He stood up from the table and tossed enough money to cover both of our meals on the table. “While we’re doing our jobs, why don’t you remind Kane that it’s a crime to infringe a police investigation?”

  Well, that answered the question about whether or not he knew that Brian Frank had hired Eliot.

  “Why don’t you tell him that?” I countered.

  “I don’t particularly want to spend any time with him,” Jake said truthfully. They had a stressful relationship long before I had been caught between the two of them. Years ago they had been Army Rangers together – and something had happened that had driven a wedge between the two of them. I had no idea what that something was – but the curiosity was killing me. Neither one of them would tell me. “Just tell him that if he comes across something he thinks we should know, he’s legally bound to tell us.”

  I had no idea if that was true, but I doubted Eliot would protect a murderer. “I’ll tell him,” I said finally.

  “Good.”

  Jake turned to leave the restaurant, but he swung back suddenly. “Be careful,” he warned me.

  “Of what? Eliot?” Now I was confused.

  “You should always be careful around Eliot,”
Jake said dismissively. “I meant that you should be careful when you’re investigating this story. Things could get dangerous.”

  “Because Brian Frank is a murderer?” I was honestly curious what he would say.

  “Because a woman is missing and we have no idea what happened to her,” Jake replied. “As much of a pain in the ass as you are, and you’re pretty much the biggest pain in the ass I’ve ever met, I would hate to think of something bad happening to you.”

  That was the nicest thing he had said to me in weeks.

  Fourteen

  After lunch, I went back to the office to write my story. I was still flustered by my lunch with Jake. I honestly didn’t know how to feel about the whole situation – so I decided to handle it the only way I knew how: Ignore it.

  When I got to the office I saw that Marvin was in the middle aisle of the cubicles, gesturing wildly.

  “What happened?”

  Marvin looked up when I entered. “I was just telling them about my date last night.”

  Marvin was far too excited. That always made me nervous. “What happened?” What? It makes me nervous, but it’s like a train wreck, you can’t not look.

  “I took her dancing.”

  “And she laughed because you have no rhythm?”

  “No, worse,” Marvin said. “And I do too have rhythm.”

  Is negative rhythm a thing?

  “So what happened?” I dropped my notebook and purse on my desk and turned to him to give him my full attention.

  “Well, we went out for a nice dinner,” Marvin began, rubbing his hands together. “She ordered surf and turf, so I knew I was going to get some.”

  “What does surf and turf have to do with sex?”

  Marvin looked at me incredulously. “You don’t order an expensive meal unless you’re willing to reciprocate.”

  “So you’re buying sex? Like she’s a prostitute?”

  Marvin glared at me. “Do you want to hear the story or not?”

  “I’m sorry, continue. You bought her a sex meal and . . .”

  “And afterwards, I wanted to go for a walk on the beach and she wanted to go dancing.”

  “What beach?”

  “The one along the canal in the Shores.”