Bylines & Skylines (An Avery Shaw Mystery Book 9) (7 page)

“You’re so sick,” Jake muttered, shaking his head. For a moment I almost thought he looked sad but his face took on an all-business mask before I had the chance to dwell on it. “Well, here comes the tech team. I guess we’ll have to wait and see what they have to tell me.”

“Where’s the body, sir?” one of the men asked.

Jake pointed to the spot behind them.

“Oh, sir? There’s a photographer from The Monitor taking photographs in the parking lot,” the man said. “I have no idea how he found out there was a body here at this time of night, especially since this didn’t go out over the scanner.”

I felt five sets of eyes move in my direction. I was sure Eliot already put two-and-two together and realized who I texted when he was on the phone with Jake. I had two choices: I could either beg and throw myself on Jake’s mercy or dig my heels in. I opted for the latter. Big surprise there, I know.

“Oh, come on,” I said. “You had to know it was coming. I can’t let a woman being roasted in the ewok village go.”

“She wasn’t roasted,” Jake snapped, annoyed.

“No, but she was trussed up as if she was going to be Thanksgiving dinner,” I said. “I can’t ignore that.”

Jake made a disgusted face. “You’d better start running now.”

I shifted my eyes to Eliot and found his expression unreadable. “It’s a good thing I found my bra, huh? I might need it if there’s going to be jogging involved tonight.”

He didn’t want to smile, but he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from tipping up. “And you worried you never gave me anything,” Eliot said, chuckling hollowly. “I’ve got heartburn right now.”

“At least it’s something to build on.”

“
W
here are
you going to be today?”

Eliot was relatively quiet the next morning, although he did work overtime to muster a smile for me when I proudly poured him coffee. It was part of my new “do more for Eliot” campaign. I’d even pushed the button on the Keurig myself.

“I’ll be at the convention all day,” Eliot said, sipping his coffee. “Unless Jake fires me, that is.”

I frowned, annoyed by his melancholy. “Jake won’t fire you.”

“Avery, did you see his face last night?” Eliot asked. “What we did wasn’t exactly professional.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I agreed. “He wouldn’t have cared if he was alone, though. He only cared because Cara and Dick Aiken were there. Dick Aiken.” I enunciated the name in long, drawn-out syllables. “That sounds like a pornographic country music song, doesn’t it?”

This time Eliot’s smile was legitimate. “Jake still might fire me,” he said finally. “If he does … well … I deserve it. I’ll suck it up and take it on the chin if that happens.”

“You wish you hadn’t taken me, don’t you?”

“No,” Eliot replied, shaking his head. “I wish you’d gotten a perfect night. I don’t regret taking you. I regret having to admit to Jake in front of an audience what we were doing, but I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw the set. I can’t regret that.”

“You have an incredibly sweet nature sometimes,” I said. “It doesn’t fit your tough exterior.”

Eliot shot me a challenging look. “The same could be said of you.”

I was pretty sure that was an insult. “Well, if Jake fires you, text me and I’ll figure out a way to cheer you up.”

“You already have,” Eliot said, tapping the end of my nose. “What are you doing today?”

“I get to organize coverage of the convention,” I answered. “Since it’s now a convention with a murder, I’ll need help.”

“So you’re bringing Duncan with you?” Eliot didn’t look thrilled with the prospect. “Keep him away from me. I’ll have to punch him if he runs his mouth.”

“Oh, you’re the sweetest guy ever,” I cooed, adopting a faux sugary voice. “I’ll be the one who punches him if it comes to that, though. Besides, I’m not bringing Duncan.”

“I thought Fish said you had to run the coverage and Duncan was your only other option?”

“See, he didn’t say it completely like that,” I clarified. “He said that I was in charge of coverage and if I wanted Duncan to cover something I could assign him to do it.”

Eliot drew his eyebrows together. “It sounds as if you’re playing a very dangerous semantics game, Trouble. I’m sure you know what you’re doing, but be careful.”

“I will.”

Eliot dropped a kiss on the corner of my mouth before getting to his feet. “I need to head to the convention now. My understanding is that they’re just now replacing the thing over the fire pit where the woman’s body was found. The scene has already been photographed and cleared.”

“Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Why would it?”

“Because generally the sheriff’s department won’t clear a scene for at least twenty-four hours,” I replied. “This one has been cleared in less than ten. That’s unheard of.”

“Yes, well, this is a big event,” Eliot said fastening his cell phone to a clip on his belt and glancing around the kitchen. “It will bring a lot of money into the area and I’m sure Jake wanted to make sure nothing got in the way of that.”

“I get that,” I said. “It just seems strange.”

“You’re strange,” Eliot said, smacking another kiss on my lips. “If I haven’t been fired, find me when you get to the convention center. We might be able to have lunch together.”

“Jake won’t fire you.”

“I’m not sure I wouldn’t fire me under the same circumstances,” Eliot said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I don’t regret it, though. Up until finding the body, I think it was one of my favorite nights ever with you.”

“Does that count the time I agreed to go skinny-dipping in the neighbors’ pool when they were out of town?”

Eliot’s grin was impish. “Nothing matches that night. I’ll call you if I get fired.”

“Call me if you find out any information I can use for a story, too,” I ordered, earning a dark look from Eliot as he moved toward the door. “We still don’t have an identity, and I’m going to have to hit the ground running.”

“You know I can’t actually help you if Jake orders me not to, right?”

I did not know that. “Why?”

“Because he’s technically my boss.”

I made a loud derisive sound in the back of my throat. “Does Jake have sex with you?”

“No.”

“Then we’ll figure something out.”

“I just know you’re going to get me fired before this is all said and done,” Eliot muttered. “I can feel it.”

“If that happens I’ll cook you two dinners.”

“Oh, that won’t be even remotely enough,” Eliot said. “We’ll talk about punishments later. I have to get moving.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you in a few hours.”

“We’ll see if you feel the same when Jake lays down the law,” Eliot said. “Either way, I’ll talk to you in a bit.”

“I’ll be there with an offensive
Star Wars
shirt on.”

This time Eliot’s smile was genuine – and infectious. “That right there … you gave me that.”

“What?”

“A good laugh,” Eliot replied. “I love you. Try to behave when you do whatever mean thing you’re about to do to Duncan. If he touches you, though, I’ll kill him.”

“My day just keeps getting better and better.”

“
D
ID
MY
story make it in?”

I leaned over the side of Fish’s cubicle and stared at the front page of today’s edition of The Monitor, not bothering to greet him properly or ask if he wanted his personal space invaded. That’s not really my style.

“We did,” Fish replied, pointing to the top spot above the fold. “You wrote it to the perfect length and we didn’t jump it. We were the only ones who had it.”

“So I’m queen of the world.”

“Only in your own head, but you did a good job,” Fish said. “We didn’t have time to talk last night. How did you find out about it?”

“I was with Eliot when he discovered the body,” I admitted. There was no sense lying. He would figure it out eventually.

“You were there?” Duncan asked, moving up behind Fish’s chair and glaring at me. “You got to visit the convention center early? How is that fair?”

“If you want things to be fair you’re going to have to sleep with the guy running security,” I said with faux sweetness. “I think you’re a little butch for him, though. I’ll ask if he’s interested if you like.”

“You’re sick.” Duncan made a disgusted face. “I don’t understand what he sees in you.”

“I’m talented in bed,” I sneered, earning a stern look from Fish. “Too far? I figured as much the second I said it.”

“Now if you could just get to the point where you see you’re going too far before the words actually come out of your mouth,” Fish said. “That would be miraculous.”

“Yes, well, I’m not sure I want to go that far,” I said. “I’ll consider it, though. What’s the deal with the sheriff’s department? Are they having a news conference to release the name of the victim?”

Fish nodded as he dug through the stack of papers on his desk, ultimately coming back with a release from the sheriff’s department. I took it and studied it, frowning when I realized what it said.

“He did this on purpose.”

Fish chuckled. “You saw that, too, huh?”

“Saw what?” Duncan asked, leaning over my shoulder. I elbowed him to maintain a safe distance and shot him a nasty glare. “I was just looking!”

“Don’t touch me or I’ll report you to Human Resources for sexually harassing me,” I warned, earning a snicker from Fish. Duncan reported me to Human Resources every chance he got. “Or I’ll tell Eliot you tried to get fresh and we can see what he wants to do about the situation.”

Duncan swallowed hard. He was understandably terrified of Eliot. My boyfriend was a big guy with broad shoulders who liked to fight when the chance arose. Duncan was a tiny man (and I was pretty sure he was overcompensating for something tiny elsewhere) but he fancied himself strong. The only thing strong about him was his aftershave … and his absolute refusal to be a decent human being. “I’m not afraid of him,” he said, although he didn’t look convinced.

“You should be,” I said. “He’s even more protective now that we’re moving in together.”

“Yeah, I heard about that,” Fish said. “Does he really think he’s going to be able to put up living with you?”

“We practically live together now.”

“Yes, but he can still take off when he needs a break,” Fish pointed out. “That’s going to change when you live under the same roof.”

“We’ll have guestrooms. It will be fine.” I said the words, but I’d secretly been worried about the same thing. I’m a lot to deal with. I often think Eliot has infinite patience, but even he was bound to run out of it eventually. “Um … what were we talking about again?”

Fish sent me a knowing look but then turned back to his computer. “I’m assuming you want to handle the murder and have someone else do a story on the opening day of the convention. Am I right?”

I kind of wanted to do both, but I knew stretching myself too thin wasn’t a good idea. “Jake is holding the conference in front of the convention center,” I reminded him. “I can do both. He’s doing it because he wants everyone to believe the center is safe – and he’s doing it after the noon news but before the evening news, which is strategic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because today is a preview day for guests with passes,” I replied. “The convention isn’t open to everyone until tomorrow. I can do a preview and cover the murder. It shouldn’t be a problem. I can take my laptop and file both from there.”

“What if you can’t find a spot to write?” Fish asked.

“Eliot is working security. I have an in.” Of course, Eliot could’ve gotten fired, but I decided not to share that tidbit with Fish.

“Wait a second,” Duncan sputtered. “What about me? I’m supposed to be helping with the coverage.”

“Yeah, what about him?” Fish asked, his eyes twinkling.

“I don’t need him.”

“That’s not fair,” Duncan whined. “She can’t get her own way just because she’s spoiled … and rotten … and so very annoying.”

“Hey, pot, this is kettle,” I said, miming talking into an invisible phone. “You’re black.”

“And you’re the Devil,” Duncan snapped.

“That’s enough of that,” Fish ordered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Why is it that I always feel as if I’m babysitting when you two are in a room together?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s him,” I answered, not missing a beat. “I’m a joy to be around.”

“You’re … something,” Fish muttered, his eyes contemplative as he considered my plan. “You need to take someone with you. I’m sorry. I’m not convinced you can cover a murder and the convention without help. You’re good, but that’s a lot of work.”

Duncan looked triumphant, but I’d already considered an alternate scenario. He just didn’t know it yet.

“In that case, I think I should take Marvin.” I kept my features flat, making sure not to lock gazes with Duncan and thump my chest to prove my superiority. I was trying to act thoughtful. Marvin Potts was my best friend at the newspaper. He was spacey and often out of a control, but he has tremendous news sense and would come in handy when working on the murder.

“Marvin?” Duncan was furious. “He doesn’t know anything about comic books.”

“No, but he knows a lot about murder,” I said, hoping I sounded pragmatic rather than vindictive. “There are going to be a lot of workers there to question. The sheriff’s deputies are going to be everywhere. I need someone who understands how to talk to the police and security officers. We both know that’s not Duncan.”

“I can talk to the cops,” Duncan protested. “I’m just as much of a journalist as she is.”

I was ready for that argument, too. “Do you remember two months ago when the Shelby Township Police Department said they wouldn’t deal with him because he’s a douche?”

“She’s making that up!” Duncan howled.

“Fine,” I conceded. “They didn’t use that word. They said you were a pain in the ass and they were sick of dealing with you. I’m not sure how that’s better than calling you a douche, but there it is.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help today,” Duncan argued.

“This could be a huge story and he might ruin it from the start if we’re not careful, Fish,” I cautioned. “Think about how glorious our front page will look tomorrow. We’ll have ‘villains lurking at the comic book convention’ with great art.”

I knew I had him when he widened his eyes. He could picture the photos, too.

“You can’t be serious,” Duncan said. “Are you considering letting her do this?”

Fish made up his mind. “It’s done,” he said. “We’ll send Marvin out there with Avery today. The murder is the big story since the convention doesn’t officially open until tomorrow. We need Marvin and Avery to combine their efforts.”

“But I can go tomorrow, right?” Duncan pressed.

Fish glanced at me. “That’s up to Avery.”

“And I say no,” I added.

“And she’ll make her decision tomorrow,” Fish said, shaking his head. “As for now, I like her plan. We need to blow everyone else out of the water on this murder and Avery and Marvin are the team to do that.”

“We’re like the dynamic duo,” I said, smirking.

“I wouldn’t go that far but … have fun,” Fish said. “Also, keep me posted. If you get something important we’ll be ready to push the button on the website as soon as possible.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I said, smirking at Duncan as I shifted around his body, so rigid now that he trembled, and headed toward the back of the building. “Maybe you’ll get a chance to be part of a dream team one day, too.”

“Oh, shut it!” Duncan was furious. “You can’t keep me away from that convention all week. I won’t allow it.”

I had every intention of messing with him whenever the chance surfaced. I didn’t want him to know that, though. Er, well, to be fair, I didn’t want him to be able to point to anything overt in my actions and get me in trouble. I wanted him to know it, though.