3 Buried Leads (15 page)

If I was smart, I would have listened to Jake and returned to the office. I would have filed a mundane story. I would have gossiped with my friend Erin. I would have made fun of Duncan. I would have listened to whatever dating havoc Marvin had wreaked the night before. Then I would have let Eliot drive me to family dinner.

No one has ever called me smart.

Instead, despite my own mind telling me to do just the opposite, I found myself driving out to Romeo. I hadn’t been out to the house in days, but I was relieved to find the streets empty – no media presence in sight. They were probably all getting lunch before coming back out here. If the evening news reports were any indication, trucks were parked out here for the 5 p.m. and 10 p.m. news shows every night.

I parked on the street in front of the house, grabbed my notebook and exited my car. Brian Frank had told all of us that he was available for interviews, so I technically wasn’t invading his privacy. The fact that I hadn’t told anyone where I was going was probably not one of the smarter things I had ever done – but that list was short anyway.

Still, it was broad daylight. I didn’t think anything would happen to me in the rich suburbs a full six hours before darkness hit.

I knocked on the door. I was surprised when Brian Frank answered it almost immediately.

“Mr. Frank, I’m Avery Shaw from The Monitor,” I introduced myself.

“I remember you,” he said. He was staring at me with an emotion I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I was leaning towards disdain. He wiped the look off his face just as quickly as he expressed it, though, and plastered a wide smile on instead. “What can I do for you?”

“I wanted to just check-in with you and see how things are going. I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I’ve done interviews with the television reporters every night.”

“I’ve seen them,” I acknowledged.

“What do you think?”

That was a weird question. “What do you mean?”

“How do you think I’ve been doing?”

“Really good,” I lied. “You’re a natural at this.”

He shrugged sheepishly. “I’m doing the best I can. I just need to find my wife, and I have to stay in the news to do that.”

“That’s really smart,” I smiled at him wanly.

“Yeah, as long as it brings my wife back, it’s all worth it.”

Brian Frank opened the door and ushered me in. “Why don’t you come in?”

I made my decision in an instant, stepping over the threshold and into his garage. I looked around quickly, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It was a normal garage. There were two vehicles, one four-door sedan and one blue SUV. The walls were cluttered with various tools, and there was a stack of plastic bins perched by the back door.

“Your garage is cleaner than my house,” I joked.

“My wife likes things clean.”

“A lot of people do.”

Brian Frank led me into this house, motioning towards the dining room table. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No thank you. I’m fine.”

Brian Frank settled in the chair across from me. “So what do you want to know?’

“Mr. Frank . . . “I started.

“Call me Brian.”

“Brian,” I corrected myself. “What do you think happened to your wife?”

He exchanged a conspiratorial look with me, his eyes bugging out of his head even more than normal, and then started to talk. “I think she ran off with her boss.”

“Dick?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I haven’t told anyone this, but they were having an affair.”

“You’re kidding,” I feigned ignorance.

“No.”

“How long have you known?”

“A couple of months.”

“Have you told the police?”

“No,” Brian admitted. “I thought they would think it would give me a motive.”

“But you’re telling me?”

“You’re obviously trustworthy.”

Obviously.

“So, why are you telling me now?” I glanced around his house, realizing that it was eerily silent for an abode that housed two small children and an au pair.

“I’ve read a lot about you,” Brian replied. “You’re very good at your job. I figured if anyone could uncover the truth about my wife, it would be you.”

The look he was giving me was making me extremely uncomfortable, and not just because his eyes were straining in his sockets like a pimple that desperately needed to be popped.

“Where are your kids?”

“At the park with their babysitter,” Brian said simply.

“Steffi?”

He looked surprised that I knew her name. “Yes.”

“How are they doing?”

“I’m trying to be strong for them. I don’t know what to tell them, though. Do I tell them their slut mother ran off with her boss and abandoned us?”

“Probably not,” I laughed hollowly. I was starting to feel distinctly uncomfortable.

“No, that’s not what a good father would do, is it?”

“No.”

“A good father protects his kids. A good father spends time with his kids. A good father doesn’t spend weeks away from them.”

“You’re obviously a good father,” I blurted out nervously.

“I am a great father.”

I had to get out of here. He wasn’t being overtly menacing, but there was something about the aura he was emanating that was making my skin crawl. “I think you’re a great father. Everyone I’ve talked to has said what a great father you are.
And what a great husband.” Okay, that’s a total lie. I needed him to believe it, though.

Whatever was going on in Brian Frank’s mind, whatever clouded thoughts he had been mired in, they passed. His eyes lost the hard edge they had only moments before, and he broke out in a wide smile. “People say I’m a great father?”

“Everyone says you’re the best father they’ve ever seen,” I lied.

“It’s good to see my efforts haven’t
went unnoticed,” he said. “My wife never noticed.”

“I’m sure she did,” I said lamely. “Some people just don’t know how to communicate.”

“How are you at communicating?”

I was surprised by the question. “Not great,” I admitted.

“I saw you on the news yesterday, you know?”

I swallowed hard.
“Yeah?”

“I asked the sheriff, but he said you didn’t find anything at my dad’s shop.”

“We didn’t,” I lied. “The cops were really there to bust me for trespassing. They just didn’t want the rest of the media to know.”

Brian Frank visibly relaxed in his chair.
“Really?”

“Really.”

Thankfully, the silence that had engulfed us was suddenly broken by the sound of the garage door opening and a multitude of feet running into the room. Brian Frank greeted his children with a wide smile and loving hugs, while I fixed my attention on the young woman standing in the doorway.

Eliot had lied when he said she wasn’t hot. She had long blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, and wide-set blue eyes. She was also stacked.

I opened my mouth to greet her, but Steffi ignored me and walked into the living room and out of sight. I didn’t want to follow her, especially given Brian’s unusual behavior. I decided to take advantage of his momentary distraction and excuse myself.

“You don’t have to go,” he protested.

“I have a story to file and then I have a family dinner tonight,” I explained. “I have to be going anyway.”

Brian Frank walked with me to the door, patting my back when I paused at the outside door. “Good luck, Ms. Shaw. I’m sure you’re going to be important to this story – before everything is said and done.”

I turned back to him with a bright smile on my face. “Reporters aren’t supposed to be part of the news, Brian. We just report it.”

I drove to a coffee shop in downtown Romeo and called Fish. I told him I had interviewed Brian Frank, and that I would be emailing my story shortly.

“You shouldn’t have gone out there alone,” he admonished me. “You should have taken Duncan with you.”

“Then he wouldn’t have talked to me.” Despite the fear I had been feeling inside of the Frank house, I was now calm and mentally chastising myself for my ridiculous behavior.

“You still wouldn’t have been alone,” Fish pointed out.

“Do you think Duncan would have protected me or helped Brian Frank kill me?”

“I have no idea.”

I disconnected from Fish and cranked out my story, waiting until I got confirmation from him that he had received it. Then I called Eliot.

“I’m just going to meet you at the restaurant,” I told him.

“Where are you?”

“A coffee shop.
I just finished my story.” That is not a lie.

“What happened at the press conference?”

“Nothing. Jake said that they were still investigating the evidence at the scene. He wasn’t exactly chatty.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to ride together?” Eliot asked. Since I was so far north, that would be unnecessary and needless travel on my part. I decided not to tell him I was in Romeo, though. I didn’t want him to blow a gasket.

“No. I have to stop at the pharmacy anyway. Let’s just meet there.”

“Okay, but we’re not spending the night out there,” Eliot countered.

“No one wants that.”

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh, yeah? Is it like a bedroom surprise?” I could really use that about now.

Eliot laughed throatily. “No, but I think I can arrange that, too. It’s more like an interview surprise.”

Steffi.

“You got the au pair?”

“She’s agreed to meet us at a coffee shop in Romeo at 9 p.m. tonight, so we have to keep your family drama to a minimum.”

I decided to let that slide. “I’m going to owe you a big thank you,” I said flirtatiously.

“I plan on collecting.”

During the drive to Oakland County, I ran what I knew through my head. Brian Frank is a weird guy. Sarah Frank was having an affair. Brian Frank knew about it. The au pair might be sleeping with Brian Frank. Dick, Sarah’s boss, was still vacationing in the Bahamas – even though the woman he was having an affair with was missing. The whole thing was a giant mess
..

When I got to the restaurant, I looked around the parking lot. There was no sign of Eliot’s truck. That wasn’t surprising, though, since I had been a full half an hour north of him when we talked.

I went into the restaurant and greeted my mom. She raised her eyebrows at my shirt, but didn’t say anything about it. “Where is Eliot?”

“He’s coming. We drove separately.”

She was still staring at my shirt. “What do you think?”

“I think that you have a strange sense of humor, but I’ve decided not to give you the reaction you want. I’m not going to comment on your clothes anymore.”

“Good. Next week I’m wearing my
Shark Week
‘Bite Me’ shirt.”

“Don’t you
dare!”

The front door chimed and I looked up expectantly. The smile that was initially on my face disappeared when I saw Derrick and Devon enter the establishment. Shit. I so did not want to see her. Thankfully, Eliot walked in the door right after them.

Eliot slid into the booth next to me, greeting my mom warmly. She was just as happy to see him. Any animosity she had once harbored for his long hair and tattoos had since disappeared. I couldn’t decide if that made me happy or not.

Derrick and Devon situated themselves at the middle table. Neither of them acknowledged my presence.

We ordered dinner. I hadn’t eaten all day – and I was still slightly hung-over – so ordered my grandpa’s special spaghetti. Eliot ordered the same.

After the waitress had left, my mom turned to Derrick and Devon. “How are you guys doing? I keep seeing you on television every night Devon. You’re doing a very good job on this Brian Frank story.”

What am I? Chopped liver?

“Thank you,” Devon said graciously, shooting me a pointed look. “I appreciate you watching my newscasts.”

Yeah, we’re all thrilled.

“That man obviously killed his wife,” my mom continued. “I don’t see why Jake just doesn’t arrest him.” She turned to me curiously. “What did you find in back of that building?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

“I saw you on the television,” my mom chided me. “The camera does add ten pounds, by the way. I know you were up to something.”

Eliot was shaking with silent laughter next to me.

“They busted me for trespassing,” I lied. “I didn’t find anything.”

As much as I would like to crow about what I had uncovered, I knew that Derrick would wrestle me to the ground and make me eat raw eggs before he let that happen.

“Is that true?” My mom asked Derrick dubiously.

“It is,” Derrick averted his gaze. He could never lie to my mom. That was something I overcame in my teens.

“Well, they should have thrown you in jail,” my mom said.

“Thanks, mom.”

“That’s the only way you’ll learn. You were never one of those kids that would just believe me when I told you the stove was hot. You had to touch it yourself to make sure I was telling you the truth.”

“That only happened once,” I protested.

“Yes, because you burnt yourself.”

“When you play with fire, you get burned,” Derrick said.

“Thank you, Mr. Fortune Cookie.”

Derrick stuck his tongue out at me.

I turned to Eliot. “Still glad you came?”

“Always. It gives me a whole new insight into why you act the way you do.”

“Really?”
I raised my eyebrows.

“These people have driven you to the brink of insanity. I’m just trying to keep you from toppling over the edge.”

“You’re a philosopher now?”

“Maybe I always was.”

Since our dinner had arrived, and my stomach was growling loudly, I decided to let Eliot’s comment go. He watched me eat about half my plate in three minutes and started laughing. “Didn’t you eat today?”

“I didn’t feel well this morning,” I reminded him. “And then I was busy all afternoon.”

“You were sick this morning?” My mom asked.

“Not sick.
Just nauseous.”

“You’re not pregnant are you?” She shot a dark look in Eliot’s direction, and the panic in her voice was evident.

“I’m not pregnant,” I sighed.

“She was hung-over,” Derrick supplied.

If I could choke him with his bacon burger I totally would.

“Hung-over?
On a week night?”

“I was with Carly,” I answered.

“What? Did she call off the wedding again?”

“Yeah, but just for a half hour or so.”

“I don’t see why Kyle puts up with her,” my mom clucked.

“Probably because she’s hot – and she sleeps with him.”

“That’s as good a reason as any,” Derrick agreed.

Devon shot him a dirty look, but my mom’s trumped it. “That’s not funny, Derrick.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

We all looked up as my grandfather seated himself at the far end of the table. When he saw Eliot, he looked surprised. “You’re back?”

“You seem surprised?” Eliot replied.

“You spent a day with us. Most people with any sense run for the hills.”

“I think your family is nice,” Eliot said simply.

“Give it time,” my grandfather said before digging into his own plate of spaghetti.

“This is really good,” Eliot said to the table.

“It’s a secret family recipe,” I teased.

“Can you cook it?”

Like all my cousins, I had spent time working in the restaurant as a teenager. I actually could cook, but more often than not I opted not to. “I can cook,” I said cautiously.

“That’s going to be my thank you,” Eliot decided. “You’re going to cook me dinner.”

“Thank you for what?” My mom asked suspiciously.

Uh-oh.

I kicked Eliot under the table as a warning. “I have a present for her after dinner tonight,” Eliot said evasively.

“What present?”

“Um . . .”

“It’s dirty sex mom,” I blurted out. Such a mistake.

“Avery Elizabeth Shaw! You do not tell people that in public.”

“Then don’t ask,” I grumbled.

The rest of the dinner was decidedly uncomfortable. Once we were done, Eliot and I said our goodbyes. We didn’t speak to each other until we were outside of the restaurant.

“Another fun family night,” Eliot laughed.

His phone started to ring at this point; he looked down at the screen and then up to me. “It’s Brian Frank.”

I waited as he answered the phone. His part of the conversation was brief. When he disconnected, he turned back to me. “He wants me to stop by the house.”

“Okay,” I said. “I can meet the au pair by myself and then just let myself into your apartment when I’m done. I have a key now
..”

“That you do,” Eliot said with a laugh. He closed in on me and gave me a long, lingering kiss. “Don’t fall asleep,” he warned me. “I have plans for you. And be careful with the au pair. I don’t think she’s involved, but she still might be dangerous.”

“I won’t fall asleep,” I laughed.

I watched as Eliot drove away and then headed towards my own car. I pushed the button to unlock it – even though you didn’t need to lock your vehicle this far north – and I heard a crunch on the gravel behind me.

I could only hope it wasn’t my mother and she didn’t want to talk about my sex life anymore. I squared my shoulders and made to turn around, but whoever it was had maneuvered in behind me.

I felt an arm go up across my mouth and press a cloth there. I could smell the faint traces of medicine. I tried to struggle away, I really did, but I fell into blackness again. My last thought was that this had happened to me before – and only a few months before.

Nothing good ever comes from family dinner.