4 Shot Off The Presses (8 page)

I thought about following them – but I wasn’t exactly trained for that. Who am I kidding? I can barely drive when I’m not distracted. Thinking about Brick laying pipe in a truck with Chelsea in the middle of the afternoon was enough to make me crash into a stop sign – or drive off a bridge – without noticing.

Instead, I drove back to Macomb County, and headed towards The Monitor instead. Someone there had to know something about Brick – like why his name was Brick and what he was doing with Chelsea in the middle of the day.

When I got to the paper, I fobbed my way into the building, and headed straight for the sports department. I didn’t spend a lot of time with them – except for an ill-fated bowling league that made me realize that bowling was inherently stupid and I had subpar hand-eye coordination when it came to resin balls with holes in them. What I did know is that they were a unique group of guys that were mostly easygoing – which meant Brick would be the odd man out.

They were also gossipy – and I was banking on the fact that they would be chatty enough to give me the insight I was looking for.

The Monitor’s newsroom is long and rectangular, with one half of the room boasting tall cubicles (the better, in theory, to cut down on our incessant chatter) and the other featuring shorter cubicles so the editors and copy desk could communicate with each other easier. The sports department was in the taller cubicles, with the reporters, and they were lodged one aisle over from where I sat.

I rounded the corner and ran into Steve Planter, the paper’s Red Wings reporter first. “Hey.”

If Steve was surprised to see me, he didn’t let on. “What’s up?”

“No Red Wings game today?”

“They’re out of town,” Steve said. We only cover the professional teams when they’re in town – or deep in the playoffs.

“Bummer.”

“It’s fine,” Steve waved off my concern. “It let’s me catch up on some other stuff. What are you doing here, by the way? Big story breaking?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“Me?” Steve looked more alarmed than impressed. My reputation precedes me, I guess.

“Well, someone in sports,” I corrected myself.

“You need tickets to a game or something?”

“No.” Well, maybe. Eliot loved hockey. “I want to know about Brick.”

“Brick Crosby?”

“Is that his last name?” Now that I thought about it, I guess I had heard that. It was just such a ridiculous name.

“Yeah.” Steve wasn’t looking impressed with my investigative reporter skills. I didn’t blame him. “What do you want to know?”

“What do you have?”

“He’s a little intense,” Steve admitted.

“I got that, trust me.”

“He’s an avid hunter.”

“The scary guy that constantly wears camouflage and expounds on a person’s right to own forty guns likes to hunt? That doesn’t really surprise me. Does he mostly kill deer?”

“And birds.”

“What kind of birds? Like parrots?”

“I think more like turkeys and guinea hens.”

Like I know anything about bird hunting. Although, on retrospect, the parrot comment probably did make me look stupid.

“What else?”

“I don’t know him that well,” Steve shrugged. “He’s only been here for a few months. Maybe you should tell me what you’re looking for.”

“Okay, why is his name Brick?”

“Oh, that,” Steve chuckled to himself. “His name is actually Brandon Richard. He just goes by Brick.”

“Why?”

“Brandon Richard. B Rick. Brick.”

Ah. Well, that was just stupid. “Did his parents give him that name?”

“No, we asked,” Steve admitted. “He gave it to himself.”

That made it even more ridiculous.

“Is he married?”

“Why? You’re not interested in him, are you?”

“Not in the least,” I said. “I’m just wondering about his personal life. I would think a guy that was getting sex on a regular basis would be a little less . . . militant.”

“Well, there is actually a story about that,” Steve glanced around conspiratorially.

Finally.

Steve leaned in closer to me. “So, Brick is in the middle of a messy divorce.”

“Someone really married him? I was just fishing for information.”

“This is his second divorce.”

“He found two women dumb enough to marry him?”

“His first ex is down in Tennessee,” Steve said. “He has two daughters with her. They’re both in high school.”

“And the second wife?”

“She’s living out in Romeo with her parents and the kids they had together,” Steve continued. “He’s living in the house that they bought together a few months ago in Marysville.”

“Why did they buy a house together if their marriage was on the rocks?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “I’ve never met her. I just know, according to Brick, she’s a crazy bitch. He claims she tried to smother him in his sleep.”

“I admire her restraint,” I said. “I would have tried to stab him in his sleep.”

“I guess she once said that woman that cut off her husband’s penis while he was sleeping – and dumped it in a field while she was driving – was her hero,” Steve said. “Brick said that was his first inclination that maybe their marriage was a little rocky.”

“I bet.”

“So they moved up here from Tennessee and immediately broke up?”

“Pretty much.”

“Is he seeing anyone?”

Steve narrowed his eyes at me curiously. “Why do you want to know?”

“I just saw him with a woman,” I hedged. I didn’t want to tell Steve the whole story. The gossip mill at The Monitor is notorious – and by the time the rumor got around Brick would be doing her in the parking lot of the insurance agency. I didn’t want to be responsible for that.

“What did she look like?”

“She was short, brown hair,” I said.

“Were they in the parking lot?” Steve looked interested, like he wanted to go and check her out.

“It wasn’t here,” I said hurriedly. “It was in Oakland County. It just took me by surprise.”

“Her name is Chelsea,” Steve said. “They went to high school together.”

Well, that was interesting, she really had known a Brandon in high school and he did, technically, work on our copy desk. “And they both just happened to end up here together?”

Steve looked confused. “Brick grew up here.”

“I thought he was from Tennessee?”

“No, he just moved down there when he met his first wife. His parents are still here. He went to high school in Birmingham.”

“Birmingham? He doesn’t seem like a Birmingham native.”

“No,” Steve agreed.

“So he went to high school with this woman and just met up with her again?”

“Kind of,” Steve said. “I think they reconnected on Facebook.”

Huh. “Before or after his second marriage went south?” I asked.

“That is the question, isn’t it?” Steve’s blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

“What do you think?”

“I think that Brick was in contact with this woman on Facebook before he moved up here – and that’s why he pushed to move back to Michigan,” Steve said. “I think that his wife found out and that’s when she moved out.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I heard him screaming at her on his cell phone outside one day,” Steve explained. “That’s the way it sounded to me.”

“So, it’s not really a theory, you have actual knowledge of this?”

“I don’t have any confirmation from his wife,” Steve said.

“Still . . .”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “It sounds like Brick was at least emotionally cheating on his wife with this woman.”

“And now he’s actually involved with her?”

“She brings him a home-cooked meal every night.”

“You’re kidding. I thought he cooked?”

“He used to cook his own stuff every night. Now she brings huge meals to him. In Tupperware.”

“Nice.”

“Then they rendezvous in the parking lot for his fifteen-minute break before he brings the meal inside to eat.”

Gross. “By rendezvous do you mean . . .”

“Yeah, he’s having sex with her in the parking lot.” We were both as excited as teenagers. It really wasn’t a ringing testimonial to our maturity level.

“How do you know that?”

“We might have spied,” Steve admitted.

I was about to tell him that was both immature and disgusting, but then I realized I would have done exactly the same thing. “Do you know anything about this woman?”

“No,” Steve replied. “I just know she thinks Brick is the greatest guy in the world.”

“So, maybe she has brain damage?” I was joking – kind of.

“Brick seems happy,” Steve said. “He’s a lot easier to be around when he’s happy. Trust me.”

I didn’t doubt that. I thanked Steve for the information and then dropped back by my desk. I checked my email to see if anything new had come in and then got back up. I didn’t have enough for a new story but I did have some interesting new leads. Now I just had to figure out what it all meant.

I was momentarily distracted by the sound of my cell phone going off. I glanced down and internally cringed when I saw Carly’s phone number pop up on the screen. This couldn’t be good.

“What’s up?”

“I’m going to kill her!” Carly has been prone to dramatic outbursts since I met her. This wedding, though, was on the verge of tipping her over into a 48-hour involuntary psych hold.

“Who are we talking about?”

“Harriet, who do you think? And you call yourself an investigative reporter.”

I could tell, by the shrill tone of Carly’s voice, that things were about to explode in Chesterfield Township.

“What did she do now?”

“She wants the wedding moved to Chicago.”

“Why?”

“Because she doesn’t feel safe bringing her family to Detroit – where random people are getting shot on freeways,” Carly seethed.

“They’re getting shot in Chicago, too,” I pointed out. “Chicago’s murder rate is pretty much the same as Detroit’s now.”

“Not in the neighborhood they live in,” Carly shot back snottily.

“Just tell her everything is already set,” I replied pragmatically. “It’s already paid for. You’ll lose too much money.”

“She says she’s willing to cover the money.”

“What does Kyle say?”

“Kyle doesn’t want to upset anyone so he’s just going golfing for fifteen hours a day. He’s such a wimp.”

That sounded like him. He was actually a good match for Carly, mostly because he tended to be even-tempered while she flew off the handle. However, that easy nature was also why he stretched prone on the ground and let his mother walk all over him whenever she felt like it.

“You’re going to have to be firm with her,” I replied. “Just tell her no.”

“I can’t,” Carly whined. “If I’m too mean to her, things are going to get even worse than they are now. This woman is going to be a part of my life for years – unless I do get my wish and she’s hit by a commuter train.”

“Well, then move the wedding to Chicago,” I said. “Just know I won’t be there. I can’t leave town with a big story brewing.”

“I’m not moving the wedding.”

“Then I don’t know what you want me to do?”

“I want you to tell her.”

“You want me to tell her what?”

“That we’re not moving the wedding.”

“Why me?” Now I was the one whining.

“Because you have no problem being mean to people,” Carly replied. “And you don’t have to ever see her again after the wedding if you don’t want to.”

She had a point. “Fine. Put her on the phone.”

I listened as I heard Carly call for Harriet. After a lot of grumbling, I heard Harriet’s voice through the phone. “Yes, Avery, what can I do for you?”

“The wedding isn’t moving.”

“What?” Harriet sounded surprised by my tone. I don’t know why, it wasn’t even the meanest tone I had utilized with her this week.

“The wedding is staying put.”

“I really don’t think that’s any of your concern,” Harriet said primly.

“Really? Because this is Carly’s wedding and she wants it here. It’s paid for. Stop trying to take things over. This isn’t your wedding.”

“I don’t think I like the way you’re talking to me,” Harriet huffed.

“Well I don’t like talking to you,” I said. “We both have our crosses to bear.”

“You don’t have a vote in this decision,” Harriet reminded me.

“Neither do you,” I shot back. “This is Carly and Kyle’s wedding. She wants it here. You’re not the boss of her. You’re certainly not the boss of me and, quite frankly, I’m sick of your attitude. It’s no wonder your son wanted to go to college and settle in another state. It was to get away from you.”