Shit.
Cass – We’ll talk later. I have to go.
I needed time to think about that one. I had nothing. I was blank.
Becker – Cass?
Cass – Yeah?
Becker – What kind of foundation do you think we’re building if we start off with lies?
Cass – Really? Let’s not talk about lies.
Becker – What does that mean?
Cass – We’ll talk later. I promise.
Becker – Okay, have a good day.
Cass – Thank you. You too.
“I’m about ready to drop your ass off at the next gas station,” Matt said, pulling my attention from my cell phone. The cell phone Becker Cole had made me forget about for two whole days.
“What?”
“What part should I repeat?” Matt asked smartly.
“Hmmm.”
“Forget it. Do you want to swing by your place for a change of clothes or not?”
“Yes. That would be great, but I still shouldn’t have to do this. You’re not the boss of me.”
“Then stay home. I don’t care. I’m doing this because your father asked me to. You don’t belong out here anyway.”
That hurt my feelings. I thought he volunteered to help me because he cared. I should have known my father threatened him. The other thought crossed my mind, too. The one where I could get out of the car, stay home, and lie to my dad. No. That wouldn’t work. Matt wouldn’t lie for me.
“Just take me to get some clothes,” I barked. He was ruining everything. “Why do we have to stay there anyway?”
“I need to stake the place out. The guy’s got a room reserved there. We’re going to catch him with his pants down.”
I rolled my eyes. Great. I was going to be stuck in a room with Matt for god knew how many hours. I would die of boredom and irritability for sure. I pouted most of the two-hour drive, listening to the radio rather than the adultery case Matt was rattling on and on about.
I was wrong. I didn’t have to worry about being stuck in a room with Matt for hours and hours. We were stuck in the car for hours and hours.
“Why the hell are we just sitting here?” I moaned.
“We’re on a stakeout. Is this your first day?”
“It’s so stupid. Why do we have to sit here all day? We didn’t even see him leave the airport. He probably isn’t even coming here.”
“You were standing there when I asked if he was on the plane. I have no idea what time the guy is going to check in. Do you? My time, unlike yours, is valuable. I don’t have time to give this case more than today. We’re waiting until something happens.”
Thank god I had Becker. We spent a lot of time texting. I laughed out loud more than once. I tried not to, but I couldn’t help it. Becker was telling me stories of him and Mason growing up. They were funny little boys. I laughed, picturing the two of them as little boys, pissing on the radiator because it sizzled.
“Who is he?”
“Who?” I feigned ignorance.
“The guy. Who’s got you so riled up?”
“I’m not riled up.”
“You are. I’ve never seen you so bubbly before. Normally, you’d be whining about all this.”
“I can whine.” I smiled. “I’m hungry. Can we eat yet?”
“I just had to open my big mouth. Tell me who the guy is and we’ll run through that drive through over there.”
“I’m not telling you anything for McDonalds.”
“Does your daddy know?”
“There’s nothing for him to know.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“Stop, Matt. It’s none of your business.”
“I’m not that hungry anyway.”
“Screw you. I’m walking across to the street to the gas station. They probably have hotdogs.”
I wasn’t taking Matt’s shit anymore. I wasn’t twelve and I didn’t have to. I walked to the gas station and stood outside the building, consuming two hotdogs, a chilli cheese fry, and a large grape slushy. I was so full, I didn’t think I’d ever eat again. I sat on the curb to the side of the building and called Justine. Sometimes she could answer and sometimes she couldn’t.
“You and I are no longer friends. You can’t do that. EVER!” Justine answered on half a ring.
“I’m sorry. I forgot I even had a phone.”
“Oh my god, Cass. Don’t you ever do that again. I almost called your dad.”
“Oh, lord. Don’t ever do that.”
“Did you do it?”
“Sort of, but not really. We did it over the phone Saturday after he dropped me off.”
“Did what? You had phone sex?”
“Yes,” I giggled not believing I did that.
“When are you seeing him again? What was he like? Does he look like he did on Picked?”
“I was supposed to see him tonight, but I’m with Matt in freaking Davenport, trying to catch a guy cheating on his wife. I had to cancel. He is way better looking in person, and his brother Mason, oh my god, Justine, he’s so funny. And the hot guy on the game doesn’t do him justice. He’s so freaking hot.”
“When do I get to meet him? Is Mason single?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask Becker.”
“Becker?”
Shit!
Silence…
More Silence…
“Cassandra?”
“Yeah, hey. I better get back to Matt. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Don’t you dare hang up on me. Isn’t Becker the guy you were going on and on about a couple weeks ago? The one with three wives?”
“I’m not getting serious with him. Don’t worry. I’m just curious. That’s all.”
“You sound like you’re floating on air. Your voice is lighter. You’re more than curious. Are you fucking nuts?!” Justine loud whispered. “Your dad will kill him and you. Since when are you into suicide?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later,” I said. I needed time to think about what to say. I shouldn’t have told her about it. I really didn’t think she was paying attention when I did. We were in line at Gino’s Pizza Bar. She never even questioned it.
“Did you meet his other wives?”
“No. He doesn’t know I know about that.”
“This is going to end badly, Cass. Mark my words. Nothing good will come from this.”
“Justine, I’m not doing anything. I’m fine. I’ll call you later if I can. Matt’s with me. I don’t want him to hear any of this.”
“Matt’s heard enough.”
“Fuck,” I audibly said the word that I rarely used.
“She’ll call you back, Justine,” Matt spoke, taking my phone from my frozen state. I was dead. I would never live to tell Becker I died. Justine was right. This was going to end in a nightmare.
“You’re joking? You’re fucking joking me right now,” Matt yelled, irate.
I didn’t respond. The only thing I could do was stand and spin to look at him.
“Becker Cole? The polygamist? You into sharing now, Small Fry?”
“Shut up. You don’t know anything about me or what I do. And furthermore, it’s none of your business. Stay out of my life,” I demanded.
Matt spun me by my arm. “This is my business. You put a stop to it right this second or I’m going right to your dad. You hear me? You stop it right this second. I’ll pound the fuck out of this guy if he thinks he’s pulling his sick sadistic shit on you. It’s not going to happen. Stop it before I do.”
Damn. Shit. Hell. Damn. Shit. Hell.
Matt was pissed. Matt was beyond pissed, and I knew he meant business. Now what the hell was I supposed to do? Great. Just great.
Chapter 10
I was planning on telling him the next day. Becker made plans to pick me up at six. I was full of mixed emotions. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but yet I did. It was best to end it now before it went any further. I could never accept his way of living. No sense in stirring soup I wasn’t going to eat.
“I’m not even kidding with you, Cassie. You end that shit now!” Matt threatened, dropping me off at my car.
Thank god I had the entire day to clean my house before Becker got there. Hopefully, I had time for a nap, too. It was nearly three in the morning before cheater guy showed up drunk with his girl-thing. I’m not so sure he was cheating on his wife with another woman. Her gender was questionable to me.
“Whatever. Go to hell,” I countered, knowing I’d do just what he told me to do. I had to. He would go to my dad. Besides the fact that Matt was an ass, and had no business telling me who or what I could do, it was best I stopped it anyway. I didn’t give Matt time to answer. I slammed the door in his face. That would teach him.
My brows lowered as I walked up the four steps to my townhouse. The steps were swept. All the tiny pieces of concrete and paint were gone. Who did that? I didn’t do that. My brows rose when I saw the pretty new rug beneath a white Bistro table and chairs. The lavender cushions matched the rug. Becker. That was the first thing that came to mind. Nobody else would have done this for me. Nobody I knew could afford to do that. Good thing my dad never came around. He’d be on to me in a heartbeat.
“Oh, my god!” I said out loud. My house. It was. Oh my god. It was. Beautiful. Someone broke into my house, painted the walls from the ugly turquoise my grandmother had done—probably in the sixties—to a bright white. The room looked twice the size as it did before I left the previous morning. How the hell did he pull this off in twenty-four hours? Money and manpower. That’s how. Money always talks. That’s one of the first life lessons anyone learns.
My twenty-year-old tweed sofa was replaced with a dark burgundy leather couch with a matching chaise. My grandma’s boxy television was gone and a—well, I don’t know the measurements, but it was huge—flat screen took up the center wall. I couldn’t wait to watch it. Wait. Don’t like any of it, Cass. I talked down my excitement with facts. None of it is yours. He’s going to take it all back as soon as you tell him your interest in him has changed. It’ll all be gone. The TV, the dining room set, the OH MY GOD! The bedroom set!
My grandma’s metal bed frame was replaced with a black, shiny headboard and matching dressers. The walls were painted gray with a silver tone. The tightly pulled covers went perfect with the modern décor. I loved this house. I felt like I was on that show that used to be on HGTV. What was it? The homeowners would leave and the crew would come in and remodel their rooms, surprising whomever the room was for? Anyway.
My mouth fell to the floor when I saw the bathroom. It was an imposter. There was no way that was the same bathroom. Ha! You can’t have the tile back, I boasted. Surely he wouldn’t take the beautiful tile, would he? Turning the handle on the faucet, I smiled. The sink illuminated purple. I was in love. Everything was neatly in a place. Everything had a home. I could see my grandmother grinning from ear to ear. She would have loved to have done this for me. I was just happy she left me her house. I would have committed suicide if I was still under my dad’s roof.
I hadn’t heard from Becker at all that morning. The last message I got was at ten the night before when he said he was tired and would see me around six. I wanted to call him, yell at him for all this. I couldn’t. I was too happy and excited.
Lying on my new, comfortable sofa, I sighed, feeling how tired I was, too. Stupid Matt. Snowball curled between my feet and we both slept. I was glad I was tired. I didn’t want to think about what I had to tell Becker. I would never be this comfortable on my couch again. I would be lounging on my broken down plaid couch the next night.
I felt much better after a nap, excited even. I didn’t know why. It was the shower. That’s what it was. I had water pressure. Real water pressure and the massage. Oh my god, the massage on that thing…
Searching through my clean, organized, structured closet, I wondered what I should wear. He did mention going to his house for supper. I presumed a nice pant suit would suffice. I was dressed in black slacks with a white shirt. I should have gone shopping. I needed nicer clothes if I was going to continue impressing Becker. No, Cass. You’re not impressing Becker. This is it. The last night you’re seeing him. Shaking my head, I reminded myself what I had to do.
Seeing Becker’s car pull to the curb, I brushed Justine off with a quick hello, can’t talk. Promising her I’d call as soon as I got home, no matter the time, and I hung up. I stopped dead in my tracks when I giddily opened the door, happy to see him.
“You look as lovely as ever. How are you?”
“Hi, Mason. Where’s Becker?”
“He’s waiting for you back at his house. He had an unexpected call he had to deal with. So. What do you think?”
“Did you help with this? This is crazy. Who does this? You guys know this is like off the top, not real life, right?”
“It’s real life. We like helping people out. It makes us feel all warm and fuzzy inside,” Mason teased. “How’s Snowball like his new place?” Mason asked, squatting to rub the meddling Snowball under his neck.
“He loves it. I think he climbed up that thing ten times today.”
“Kitties need things to do. Huh, Snowball?”
He got that, he had plenty to do now. I never had that cool of a toy growing up. The carpeted tree went clear to the ceiling, branching out with dangling toys, holes for him to hide in, pockets for hidden treats, and a cozy bed three feet from the floor. Snowball was in kitty heaven. He had a mansion, just like me. I still couldn’t believe it was my house. It was so bright and clean, un-depressing like it had been the day before.
“Oh, we put the headboard in the basement. We weren’t sure if it was sentimental or not,” Mason explained like he was worried I’d be mad about the old metal headboard.
They could have pitched it. I was with my grandma when she bought it at a garage sale. It didn’t mean anything. My house could get broken into anytime for results like this.
“It wasn’t sentimental. I love this, Mason. Like you don’t even know how much I love it. I can’t even express how much I love it,” I rattled on and on, taking his elbow.
Mason and I talked the whole ride. I was never at a loss of words with him or Becker. He would have been the best brother-in-law ever. They could do stuff, too. Like man stuff. I guess I’ve always had this perception of men with more than six figures in their income to be sort of man-dumb, you know, like they didn’t know how to change their own oil, fix a leaky faucet, or change a tire. Mason and Becker could do those things. I was sure of it. Mason told me how funny it was when Becker busted his knuckles when the bolt finally let lose under my kitchen sink. I loved my new sink and the shiny new handles.
“Where do you live, Mason?” I curiously asked. He seemed to always be around.
“On the same property as Beck. We live about two miles apart. I’ll show you sometime.”
I won’t be around for that, I sighed, looking out the window. For the first time in my life, I felt like I belonged somewhere and I couldn’t have it. It was so close but so far out of reach.
The house, just like before, was quiet. Mason walked me through to a patio area where Becker paced the white concrete. I turned when I heard the faint sound of laughter—girls’ laughter. They were at the far end of the house. I knew it.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Mason smiled with a sad nod. Why did he look like that? Something was going on. I could feel it. I was an investigator, you know.
“Don’t go far,” Becker ordered Mason. What did that mean? I didn’t like the look on Becker’s face. I’d never seen it before. Not that I had witnessed all his expressions, but I could read this one. It made me extremely apprehensive.
“Becker?” I questioned, walking to him.
He ignored me, nodded for me to take a seat, and poured me wine.
I was so confused. I wanted to jump up and down, thank him for what he’d done to my living quarters, and wrap my arms around his neck. I didn’t. I timidly stared up to the expression that I now read
as anger. What the hell?
“So, Cassandra. What’s your next step?”
“Excuse me?” What the hell was he talking about?
“Your next step, you know, where do we go from here? Do I need to worry about the feds busting my door down at any second? Your daddy and all his little cop buddies, hiding out on my property somewhere?”
“Becker, what the hell are you talking about?” I asked. I started to get up, but quickly dropped back to my chair when Becker dropped his hands to the table. Hard. I jumped, thinking about my dad doing the same thing to get my attention.
“I’m talking about you, Miss McClelland. Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I just wish I would have found out before I dropped seventy grand in your house.”
“Seventy grand?!” I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
“Nobody is here against their will. Go report that back to your daddy and move on, investigate someone else. There is nothing to investigate here.”
“What? No, you’ve got it all wrong, Beck. I wasn’t investigating you. Marti was.”
“What?” Becker gave me that look Matt and my dad did when I didn’t make sense. It happened a lot.
“Please just listen to me. Not that any of it matters because we can’t see each other after tonight anyway, but I still need to explain it.”
“Who’s Marti?”
“Marti is the one that was supposed to be investigating you. She didn’t really. One of your, um—”
“Wives, Cassie. They are called my wives. But guess what? There is not one legal document stating that fact, so you can take your meddling ass back to Philly and tell your daddy to back off. I don’t bother anyone out here and I don’t want this.”
“Nobody is after you for anything, Becker. That’s what I am trying to tell you. I was never given your case. Marti was. I don’t get cases like this.”
“I’m not a case.”
“Will you shut up for five minutes and let me explain?”
“Explain what? How you hacked into my game so that I would pay attention to you? How you ruined the one room that I worked months on creating—you’re still stuck in there, you know? How you’ve been using every second of it to report back to your daddy?”
Picked Page 9