avery shaw 08 - misprints & mistakes Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  MISPRINTS & MISTAKES

  AN AVERY SHAW MYSTERY BOOK EIGHT

  AMANDA M. LEE

  WINCHESTER SHAW PUBLICATIONS

  CONTENTS

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Mail List

  Acknowledgments

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Copyright © 2016 by Amanda M Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  To my cousin Chuck Avery, who makes inspiring Mario look effortless and cool.

  Prologue

  Fourteen years ago

  “I expect both of these children to be alive and have at least half of their limbs in working order when I get back.”

  I fought the urge to roll my eyes as I regarded my mother. On a normal day she was a pill. On days when she kicked into bossy mode she was … something else. It rhymes with “witch.” I can’t say the word until she leaves the house. I swear she has supersonic hearing or something. She could hear a fart in a windstorm, which she would prefer to the constant swearing I do behind her back.

  “You’re going to the grocery store for fifteen minutes,” I reminded her, grabbing my video game controller from the couch and locking eyes with my cousin Derrick for a moment. We were obviously both thinking the same thing: She’s crazy. “It’s not like we’re going to burn the house down while you’re gone.”

  Mom made a face that would’ve terrified most people. I couldn’t muster the energy to care. I’d seen that face too many times before. It was a cross between a satanic clown and a rabid opossum. All she lacked was the hissing and spitting. “I’ve left you and Derrick to take care of yourselves,” Mom clarified. “You two usually can’t be bothered to get up from the couch. It’s nice because you’re too lazy to get into trouble. I’m leaving you in charge of your cousins, though. Lexie and Sarah are only ten. That means you actually have to watch them.”

  “Uh-huh.” She’s still talking, right? I think she is. Her voice sometimes shifts into muffled mode – like the teacher in a Charlie Brown cartoon – when she talks for more than two minutes. It’s a weird phenomenon I’ve never been able to fully grasp.

  “What did I just say to you, Avery Shaw?”

  If she’s using my first and last name she means business. “You said that you’re going to the grocery store and that you’re leaving Lexie and Sarah for us to watch.”

  “You also said if they are missing more than half of their arms and legs when you get back you will kill us,” Derrick added, his gaze fixated on the television. “Now can you move? We’re trying to play a game.”

  Mom scowled. “Those girls are in the basement playing Barbie dolls right now,” she said. “Don’t go down there and be mean to them, and don’t let them die.”

  “I think I can handle that,” I said dryly. “I promise they’ll be alive when you get back.”

  “They’d better be more than alive,” Mom countered. “If either one of them is crying, missing, bleeding, burnt or otherwise mistreated, the two of you won’t see the outside of your respective houses for two weeks. Do you understand?”

  “You can’t threaten to ground me,” Derrick argued. “You’re not my mom.”

  Mom jerked the controller out of Derrick’s hand and forced his attention to her serious face. “Do you want to push me, Derrick?”

  “No,” Derrick said, reaching for the game controller. “I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll watch Sarah and Lexie. You’re only going to be gone for fifteen minutes. We’re just messing around.”

  “I think he’s saying you need to stop being a spaz and get out of the way,” I said, waving my hand to shoo my mother. She was wearing on me. “You’d probably be back by now if you weren’t making such a big deal about this.”

  Mom dropped the controller on Derrick’s lap and narrowed her eyes. “You drive me crazy, Avery. Do you know that?”

  “If that were true you’d be committed and I’d have free reign over the house,” I replied. “I think you like being dramatic because you crave attention.”

  “That’s rich coming from you,” Mom shot back, cuffing my head as she moved toward the front door. “Don’t screw up while I’m gone.”

  “I’m going to write that little gem down and sell it for a million bucks when I get older,” I called to her back.

  “You do that!”

  I vaguely registered the front door slamming and had almost forgotten I was technically babysitting when Lexie and Sarah approached five minutes later. “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I’m hungry,” Sarah announced, her blond hair tied in pigtails that bounced as she bobbed her head. “I want something to eat.”

  “Mom will be back in ten minutes,” I said. “She’ll feed you.”

  “I’m hungry now.”

  “You’ll live.”

  Sarah stomped her foot on the carpet and made an annoying screeching sound, dragging my attention from the mutant monsters of Silent Hill. She’s prone to dramatic fits, and not in a good way like me.

  “I’m hungry right now,” Sarah wailed. “I’m going to starve to death if you don’t feed me.”

  “Good grief,” Derrick muttered. “Shove a cookie in her mouth and shut her up.”

  “If I shove something in her mouth I’m going to choke her with it,” I replied. “Go back downstairs and play with your stupid dolls. Mom will give you something to eat when she gets back.”

  Lexie stood behind Sarah, her arms crossed, studying me. She was the same age as Sarah – which made her almost three years younger than me – but she
was ten times smarter than Sarah. She was shrewd and mischievous, which was a bad combination.

  “I have an idea,” Lexie said.

  “No, you don’t,” I argued.

  Lexie ignored me. “I think you should play dolls with us,” she said. “That way you could take Sarah’s mind off her hunger.”

  Here’s the thing: I hate dolls. I don’t just hate them I also think they’re evil. I think there’s a good chance they’re haunted and when no one is around they have group meetings and plot how to take over the world. I think we’ve got a possible mutant invasion on our hands and I’m the only one who realizes it. Lexie knows I hate dolls. She doesn’t really want me to play dolls. She simply wants to irritate me. It’s working.

  “I think you and Sarah should go back down to the basement and play dolls until Mom gets home,” I countered. “She’ll be back in ten minutes and then she’ll feed you.” And take you completely off my hands, I silently added.

  “I want you to play with us,” Sarah whined.

  “I’m playing video games with Derrick,” I replied, nimbly moving my fingers over the control pad. “I’m winning. I don’t want to play with your stupid dolls. Go … do something else. You’re bugging me.”

  “You’re supposed to be watching us,” Lexie pointed out, purposely needling me. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be playing that stupid zombie game instead of watching us.”

  “Something tells me you’ll live, Lexie,” I said. “By the way, this is not a zombie game. It’s a sophisticated horror world that involves a lot more than zombies. Go away.”

  “I need something to eat,” Sarah said.

  “I think she’s starving to death right in front of my eyes and you’re going to be in big trouble if she dies.” Lexie’s tone was full of faux sweetness.

  “I think you both need to shut up,” Derrick said. “You’re ruining the game.”

  “They’re definitely ruining the game,” I grumbled. “Just … go back downstairs for five minutes and then Mom will take care of you when she gets back.”

  “You’re supposed to take care of us,” Lexie reminded me.

  That did it. I paused the game and pressed my lips together as I swiveled, locking gazes with Lexie. She knew exactly what she was doing. “I have a new game to play,” I said, forcing a broad smile as I shifted my eyes to Sarah. “You’re going to like this game. It will go by really quickly, and before you know it Mom will be home to feed you.”

  “What’s the game called?” Sarah asked.

  “Survivor.”

  “Like the television show?” Sarah looked intrigued.

  “Exactly like the television show,” I said. “Do you know the woods behind our house?” The trees could only be described as “woods” in the broadest sense of the word. There were basically ten rows of trees with a little grass on either side. It definitely wasn’t a forest, by any stretch of the imagination.

  Sarah nodded.

  “You need to go and set up your camp, and if you win I’ll give you an entire box of cookies,” I said.

  Sarah didn’t appear thrilled with the suggestion. “But … you want me to go out into the woods by myself?”

  “You’ll be fine,” I said. “You want to win cookies, right?”

  “But … can Lexie go with me?”

  I knew Lexie wouldn’t fall for the same ploy. “No,” I answered. “Lexie is going back downstairs to play dolls. You’re too cool to play dolls. You’re going to play Survivor and win all of the cookies in the house.” I was pretty sure that if we had any cookies they were of the Weight Watchers variety. My mother was on another diet kick. They seemed to pop up every six months.

  “And Lexie won’t get any of the cookies?” Sarah pressed.

  That was her sticking point. I had to admire the simplicity associated with it. She didn’t care about winning the game. She didn’t even care about eating. All she wanted to do was beat Lexie. I could understand that. “There will be no cookies for Lexie,” I confirmed.

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “If something bad happens to me, though, you’ll be in big trouble.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to you,” I said, clicking the button and resuming the game.

  I heard the back door shut and leaned back on the couch so I could glance out the window. Sarah’s blond head was visible as she bounded toward the trees.

  “That was mean,” Lexie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “You just wanted to get rid of her.”

  “We want to get rid of you, too,” Derrick warned. “Go downstairs or I’ll hang you from the back of the bathroom door by your underwear.” As her brother, Derrick could make those threats and follow through. Lexie knew he would do just that if she didn’t acquiesce to his demands. “What happens if Sarah gets lost?”

  “The woods aren’t big enough to get lost in,” I replied.

  “Your mom is still going to be ticked,” Lexie said. “I’m going to laugh when you get in trouble.”

  For a brief moment I wondered whether Lexie was right. Would I get in trouble? Would I be grounded for two weeks? More importantly, would that grounding involve a removal of my video game system? I decided to risk it. “I’m not going to get in trouble,” I said. “Mom said to make sure you guys were entertained and she would be right back. Is Sarah entertained?”

  “You’re so stupid,” Lexie said, rolling her eyes. “You should never have children. They’ll all end up dead in a ditch because you’re so stupid.”

  “I can live with that,” I said. “Now go play with your dolls.”

  Derrick and I returned to our game, completely losing track of time until I heard my mother enter the house. It didn’t occur to my fourteen-year-old, video game-hazed mind that I hadn’t seen Sarah in almost fifteen minutes – or that I should probably go looking for her.

  “Where are the girls?” Mom asked, striding into the living room a few minutes after dumping the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. “Are they still in the basement?”

  “Huh? Yeah, sure.” Hey, one of them was probably in the basement. That had to count.

  “Hey, Lexie,” Mom said, turning her attention to my tiny cousin as she padded into the living room. “Where is Sarah?”

  Lexie has a lot in common with Satan. There’s no sugarcoating it. When she arched a challenging eyebrow in my direction, I realized my mistake. It was far too late. “She’s out in the woods playing Survivor.”

  Mom was confused. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “Crap,” I muttered, pausing the game and dropping the controller onto the coffee table. “I’ll get her.”

  “Where is she?” Mom asked.

  “I just told you that she’s in the woods,” Lexie said. “Avery sent her there because Sarah was hungry and Avery didn’t want to feed her.”

  Mom narrowed her eyes. “Is that true?”

  “She also told Sarah it was a game, like Survivor, and she had to survive on her own in the trees if she wanted cookies,” Lexie sniffed. “I told her it was a bad idea, but no one ever listens to me.”

  “I’m going to listen to you later, and you’re not going to like it,” Derrick threatened.

  “Are you telling me that little girl is lost in the woods?” Mom was on the verge of losing it.

  “She’s not lost in the woods,” I clarified. “The woods aren’t big enough to get lost in. She’s … wandering around the woods. I said I would find her. There’s no reason to freak out.”

  “No, I’m going to find her,” Mom hissed. “You’re in so much trouble you’re not going to know what hit you. That video game is going. You can count on that. I’ll see what other horrible things I can come up with while I’m collecting Sarah. You’d better hope that little girl has all of her arms and legs!”

  I rolled my eyes. “She’s fine. Stop … being you.”

  “You’re officially the worst babysitter ever, Avery,” Mom announced, stalking toward the back door. “You’re never going to be able to babysit aga
in. They’re going to put you on a blacklist. Children everywhere will run and scream when they hear your name.”

  Did she think that was a threat? “That’s fine with me.”

  “You’re also grounded, and I’m throwing that video game away,” Mom screeched.

  That wasn’t fine with me, but it was still better than babysitting. “I think we’ve both learned a valuable lesson here,” I said, deciding to poke the bear a little more simply because I could.

  “And what’s that?” Mom asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “You really should stop asking me to do things,” I answered. “I think we can both agree no good comes of you trying to make me do stuff I don’t want to do in the first place. This is really on you.”

  “You’re going to be the death of me!”

  She kept saying that but it never came to fruition. “Don’t forget to take cookies with you when you go looking for Sarah,” I suggested. “I promised her cookies, and she’s probably going to be a snot factory when you get out there.”

  “I really dislike you sometimes,” Mom said.

  “I can live with that.”

  1

  Present Day

  “I would rather be stabbed through the heart with a lightsaber than have a kid.”

  As far as announcements go, it was a pretty good one. Given my overt disdain for people in general – I don’t cap my dislike by age – I didn’t think anyone would be surprised. Because my best friend Carly was pregnant – and she was the reason I was in a store with baby animals painted on every wall in the first place – I realized too late I was playing things up for the wrong audience.

  “Really, Avery?” Carly’s hands landed on her tiny hips. She was three months pregnant, but she was still twenty pounds lighter than me. I had no idea where the baby was hiding, unless it was somewhere he could fuel Carly’s rage, that is. She seemed to have that in spades. “You would rather be stabbed to death by an imaginary weapon than have a kid? Do you think now is the time to tell me that?”

  If she expected me to be embarrassed – or apologetic – she was about to be disappointed. “Hey, it’s not my fault that you got knocked up,” I said. “You’re an adult. You’re old enough to know how birth control works.”