Cassie McGraw Box Set: Books 1-3

by David Archer

  “You think I’m not?” he asked, without turning around. “I survived fire, just like you did. I survived war, which you haven’t done. I’ve survived just about every kind of pain and heartache you can imagine, so don’t give me that ‘I’m a survivor’ crap like it explains anything. Yeah, I know you’re a tough gal, it’s one of the things I like about you. I know you’re smarter than most anybody I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re human. You are just as vulnerable as anyone else, Cassie, just as vulnerable as my friends were when they were pinned down back in Afghanistan. Why are you so damn stubborn about letting anyone care about you?”

  “Because it hurts!” I yelled, and then I threw my hand over my mouth. I couldn’t believe what I had just said. “No, that’s not what I meant,” I said quickly. “I mean it hurts if somebody gets hurt because they care about me. Look at what happened to Abby, she died because…”

  He turned and looked at me, finally. “Abby died because she did what she felt was the right thing to do. Sometimes, bad things happen. The thing is, if it was her time to go, it wouldn’t have mattered if she was with you or at the zoo. At least she had the knowledge that her best friend was with her when she died. I know a lot of people who didn’t have that when they passed on.” He turned back to the eggs.

  I sat there and stared at him, and part of me wanted to lash out at him for what he said about Abby. The other part, the rational part, knew that he was telling the truth. Abby’s death wasn’t my fault, because I wasn’t the one who decided we needed to die. All of the fault, all of the blame, had to go on the man who poured the gasoline and dropped the match. True, if I had not called her, she probably wouldn’t have been there, and it was possible she would still be alive.

  It would also mean that I would be dead. The thing that had saved me was Abby’s ability to think under pressure, something I didn’t have at that time. When Mike, my ex-fiancé, insisted on taking us out of the hotel room where he had found us, Abby had seen my cell phone laying on the floor, where I had thrown it. She managed to call 911, apparently with her toe, and then shoved the phone up under the bed. The operator heard bits and pieces of what was going on and sent police to investigate. When they got there, they found Abby’s little portable TV with the videotape showing Mike and three of his police buddies raping a woman. It was enough to make the police want to talk to him, and they were able to locate us with his cell phone.

  Unfortunately, they only got there after Lex Stuart had already killed Mike and poured the gasoline on me and Abby, and they caught him just as he dropped the match that ignited it all. The cops did all they could, using fire extinguishers and braving the flames to get us out, but Abby ended up dying of her injuries. As terrible as that was, I still had to live with the fact that it was her presence, her actions, that saved my life.

  Did I really have the right to tell Dex not to try to help me if I got into trouble? Would Abby have listened if I had told her to stay away?

  Not a chance, I heard her voice say.

  “Dex,” I said softly. “If I ask you to, will you make me another promise?”

  “Making promises to you seems to have side effects,” he said without turning around. “What kind of promise?”

  “This one might be better for you,” I said. “I want you to promise me that if the alarm does go off, you’ll at least call Niles before you come looking for me.”

  He kept right on stirring the eggs for a few seconds, and then he turned halfway and looked at me over his shoulder. “What happened to sit back and do nothing?”

  I grinned. “Do you honestly think I believe you would do that, anyway? At least promise you’ll let the detective know what’s going on before you come after me. Deal?”

  The smile on his face was worth it. “Deal,” he said. “You have my word.”

  “Good. Now, hurry up with those eggs, will you? I’m getting hungry over here.”

  The eggs were ready a few moments later, and I was delighted to find that he had added some of the shredded cheddar cheese I had bought. There’s something about scrambled eggs with cheddar cheese that just makes my taste buds happy. Between that, the coffee, and the big smile Dex was wearing, the morning seemed to be getting back to where it should be. When we finished breakfast and he was ready to leave for work, he even grabbed me and kissed me before he opened the door.

  I definitely like kissing him without the mask better.

  Dex has to be at the Ford dealership at seven thirty every morning, so it was barely after seven when he left. I busied myself cleaning up the kitchen, washing the dishes and putting them away, things like that for a little while, and I was surprised when someone tapped on the door at a few minutes before eight. I called out, “Just a minute,” then ran to check the mask in the mirror. It was still in place, but I was only wearing a nightgown that exposed my arm and leg. I didn’t have a long bathrobe with me, so I snatched the blanket off the bed and wrapped it around myself as I went to the door. I checked once more to make sure my left hand was out of sight under the blanket, and then pulled the door open as far as the safety chain would allow.

  Donna was standing there with a plate full of cookies. “Hi, Emily,” she said. “Want a cookie?”

  I looked at her for a moment, and her bright smile got to me. “Sure,” I said. I pushed the door shut long enough to take off the safety chain, then opened it wide so she could come in. “I hope you don’t mind me wearing a blanket,” I said. “I think I got a bit of a chill last night.”

  She grinned at me. “Yeah, I get chills sometimes, too.”

  The look on her face told me that she thought the blanket was there to cover up bruises, but that was right in character with what we were trying to do, so I gave her a sheepish grin and let it slide. We sat down at the table and I offered her coffee, but she passed.

  “Listen,” she said after a moment, “I don’t mean to stick my nose in where it doesn’t belong, but I kinda heard you guys fighting last night. Are you okay?”

  I tried to brush it off. “I’m fine,” I said. “It was just a broken cup, nothing to worry about.”

  “Okay,” she said, obviously unconvinced. “How long you guys been together?”

  “Just a couple of months,” I said. “Darrell’s a great guy, he just gets a little noisy sometimes.”

  She chuckled. “Then he and Gary ought to get along very well. Gary makes a lot of noise around here, I’m sure you’ll hear it sooner or later.” She picked up a cookie and took a bite, and I did the same. “Emily, when he gets upset, does he hit you?”

  My first instinct was to be honest and say no, but then I remembered what I was doing there. I tried to think of how I should respond, but then I just acted like most of the women who came into my office. “Oh, no, no,” I said, far too quickly. “No, everything is fine, really.”

  “Yeah,” Donna said, “it’s pretty fine over at my apartment, too. Emily, I’ve been with Gary for going on three years, now, I know the signs. Yesterday you were wearing long sleeves and a high neck, today you open the door wrapped in a blanket. Are you honestly going to tell me I wouldn’t find bruises under there, if I looked?”

  You’d find something a lot worse than bruises, I thought to myself. On the other hand, I didn’t dare take the risk she might actually try, and continuing to deny might cause her to do exactly that. I lowered my eyes to the table and put my hand over them, which helped conceal the fact that only one eye was blinking.

  “Okay, sometimes—sometimes he gets a little rough, but I can handle it. Just promise me, promise me you won’t say anything. Especially not to your husband, ’cause if he were to ask Darrell about it, I’d be in so much trouble. Please?”

  Donna smiled and patted my shoulder. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to say a word. Believe me, I know exactly what you mean about being in trouble.” She rubbed my shoulder for a moment, then gave it a squeeze. “Look, I really just want you to know there’s somebody here you can talk to, if you need
to. I really will understand what you’re going through, and I always have time, if you need to talk.”

  Time. That was my way out of this. I moved my hand and looked at the clock on the wall, then let out a gasp. “Oh, my goodness,” I said. “I’ve let the time get away from me. I have to get dressed, I’ve got to be at work in less than an hour.”

  “Oh? Where do you work?” Donna asked.

  “I work for Marcus Brothers, the mail-order company. It’s a brand-new job and I’m just starting today, as an order picker. I’m sorry, please forgive me, but I’ve got to get ready to go.”

  Donna looked a little disappointed, but she got up from the table. I walked her to the door, thanking her for coming over to talk, and she almost forgot her plate. She left a few of the cookies sitting on a napkin for me, and then she was finally gone.

  I leaned against the door and took a deep breath. I really did need to go and report to the new job, but I wasn’t on a set schedule that day. I grabbed the cheap little phone Alfie had given me and sat down at the table again, then dialed the number for the Harvest of Hope domestic abuse hotline.

  It rang three times, and then it was answered. “Harvest of Hope hotline,” said the voice. Alfie’s little idea had worked, because this was the voice I had heard on the recording. “How can I help you?”

  I had been planning this for the last thirty-six hours or so, but now it was time to put it in action.

  “Hi,” I said nervously. “Somebody gave me this number and said maybe I should give you a call.”

  “Okay,” the voice said. “What would you like to talk about?”

  “Well, I…” I deliberately stalled for a couple of seconds. “I’m kind of wondering, you know, how do you know if—if you’re being abused. Like, in an abusive relationship kind of thing.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, are you asking for yourself?”

  “Well, yeah, maybe…”

  “Can I ask you your first name?”

  “Oh, yeah, it’s Emily.”

  “Well, Emily, there are many different kinds of abusive relationships. There are also different types of abuse. For example, if someone is insulting you a lot, yelling at you, that’s what we call verbal or emotional abuse. If someone is forcing you to do things, particularly sexual things, that you don’t want to do, we refer to that as sexual abuse. If someone is hitting you or pinching you or doing other things to cause pain, then that’s physical abuse. Are you going through something like one of those?”

  I held back a few seconds. “Well, sometimes—sometimes he yells a lot. Like, if I don’t get the dishes clean enough, or if I burn the potatoes, sometimes he yells.”

  “I see. Does this happen pretty often?”

  “Well, yeah, I guess, maybe. I—sometimes I think maybe I’m not a very good girlfriend. I mean, sometimes he—sometimes he does more than just yelling, but not all the time.”

  “You mean that he hits you? Strikes you?”

  “Well—well, yeah.” I sniffled a bit, and swallowed loud and hard.

  “Emily, how often does this sort of thing happen?”

  “Often? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, does it happen every day? Once or twice a week?”

  “Oh. Well, just, just whenever he gets mad. Like, sometimes it happens three or four times a week, I guess. I mean, it kinda happened a couple days in a row, last week.”

  “Emily, I’m so sorry. Yes, I’m afraid this is what we would call a very abusive relationship, and one that you should probably try to get out of.”

  “Oh...” I said softly, as if I was on the verge of tears. “I don’t know… He gets so mad whenever I even talk about leaving.”

  “Has he threatened you, Emily? Has he said he would hurt you if you left him?”

  “Well,” I said, letting my voice crack a bit. “Not, like, in so many words. I mean, yeah, once he said I’d regret it if I left, and I asked him what he meant, and he said it would be the biggest mistake I’d ever make, and maybe the last one. I guess you could say that was a threat, do you think?” I sniffled again.

  “I think I would, yes. Emily, what makes him so mad?”

  That was the kind of question I was expecting, and I felt a momentary sense of excitement, but I pushed it back down.

  “Well, I mean, I guess a lot of the time it’s my fault, you know? I mean, sometimes I know he’ll get mad if I don’t have dinner ready when he gets home, but I get tied up doing something or something like that. And I probably need to pay more attention when I’m cleaning up, you know, or doing dishes and stuff.”

  The voice was quiet for a moment, and I thought for a moment I had blown it. Then I heard a deep breath on the other end of the line, and listened closely.

  “Emily, are you in love with him?”

  “What? Well, yeah—I mean, yeah, I think so.”

  “How are other things at home? Does he take care of your personal needs?”

  “Personal needs?” I asked, letting my voice squeak as if I was surprised by the question. “Well, um, I mean, we don’t—well, once in a while we…”

  “That’s another kind of abuse, you know. We call it deprivation abuse. Can I ask how old you are, Emily?”

  “Me? I’m twenty-two. Darrell, he’s twenty-six.”

  “And would you tell me what you look like?”

  “Um, is that normal on this kind of thing?”

  “Oh, yes, it tells us a lot about your self-confidence and self-respect. It’s all in how you describe yourself.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’m five foot one, and I weigh a hundred and five pounds. I’ve got blonde hair and blue eyes, and everybody always tells me I’m pretty. Well, everybody but Darrell.” I put a touch of animosity into the last few words.

  “Emily, you sound like a lovely girl. In fact, you sound like the kind of girl I wish I could meet. Too bad we’re not allowed to exchange personal information. I’d certainly treat a treasure like you a lot better than Darrell does.”

  “Oh…” I giggled. “Well, I can’t say that wouldn’t sound nice, but he’d probably try to hurt you.”

  “Oh, I’m not afraid of Darrell. And I think it might be worth taking the chance, to make someone like you happy. It’s just too bad I’ll never get the chance to try. You and I might’ve been perfect for each other.”

  “Mmm,” I said. “That would be so nice, to find somebody I’d be perfect for.”

  “You’d like that? Really?”

  “Well, I—I mean, sure, I’d like that. Wouldn’t everyone?”

  “Wow, you sound wonderful. I wish I could tell you my name, but the system is programmed to cut me off if I say my name. And you’re not supposed to tell me your last name, because that would make it possible for me to find you. I guess fate just doesn’t want us to have a chance.”

  “Oh, wait,” I said. “Will it—will it get me in trouble if I tell you my last name? Will it cut us off or anything?”

  “Well, no, because it’s not programmed that way, but it is against the rules.”

  I held back for three seconds. “It’s Keeler,” I said. “Emily Keeler. I just moved here, me and Darrell. We just moved into an apartment on Sixteenth Street.”

  “Well, hello, Emily Keeler. Where at on Sixteenth Street? I know some people who live on that street.”

  “It’s an old building, at fourteen twenty-one Sixteenth Street. We’re up on the third floor, apartment 3G.”

  “Oh, okay. I don’t think I know anyone in that building. But, do you realize you just told me where you live?”

  “Yeah,” I said, coquettishly. “I know that.”

  “I wonder what would happen if I stopped by sometime,” the voice said, “maybe just to meet you and say hello. Would that be okay with you?”

  “Oh, I—I mean, that would be okay, just—it would have to be when Darrell was at work. He goes to work around seven, and he gets home around five or five thirty. Don’t you have to work during the day, though?”

  “I only work here
part-time. I was thinking that maybe I could stop by later today, if you want. Would you like that?”

  “Today?” I squeaked. “Well, I’ve got to go to work for a few hours,” I said. “But I could be back here around two. If you wanted to stop by, I mean.”

  “I might try,” he said. “I can’t be sure I can make it, but I’ll try, how about that?”

  “Okay. Okay, yeah. Maybe you’ll be able to make it.”

  “I’m really glad you called, Emily. I hate to do this, but I need to hang up now. There are other callers waiting to get through, and I might be able to help one of them. Of course, none of them would be as much fun as I’ve had talking to you today. If I don’t get to stop by, could you call me again tomorrow? Around the same time?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, if you don’t make it, I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  The line suddenly went dead, and I sat there and stared at the phone for a minute.

  SIXTEEN

  I got dressed in a hurry, barely remembered to grab the turtle necklace and put it on, and headed out the door, careful to make sure my gloves were on before I stepped out into the hall. It’s a good thing I did, because Donna was peeking out the door, and I waved at her with my left hand, trying to fix the impression in her mind that it was perfectly normal. The conjoined fingers still bend, so with the gloves on they appear perfectly normal when I’m waving with them.

  It was terribly cold outside, and I missed the heated seats from my Kia, but the Camry fired right up. I put it in gear and drove away, carefully watching everything around to be sure I wasn’t being followed. I had no idea where the man I had spoken to was based, so there was no way to know whether he could have gotten to me so quickly, but I wasn’t taking chances. When I had gone more than a mile without seeing anything that could be a tail, I took out my own phone and called Alicia.

  “It’s Cassie,” I said. “I did it, I did it. I talked to him.” I caught myself just before telling her how Alfie had rigged the computer to make sure I would get him. Something told me she might not approve of doing such things without a warrant, but I wasn’t going to waste a lot of time trying to do everything by the book.