Cassie McGraw Box Set: Books 1-3

by David Archer

“Monday? Really?”

  “Yes, Marsha,” I said patiently. “I’m planning to come back on Monday, if you still want me.”

  “We do. We really do. I’m just wondering, I thought you wanted to go ahead and be a private detective. What happened to that?”

  “I am a private detective,” I said. “And sooner or later, there will probably be another case that I will need to take time off for, but I hope it won’t be very soon. To be honest, I could use some time back on this job to help me recover from that one.”

  Marsha was all smiles. “Of course,” she said, “and we’ll understand. I’m just glad you’re not quitting.”

  “Of course I’m not quitting,” I said. “I do this because I feel like I’m making a positive difference in the lives of these women, and I’m certainly not going to stop. Most likely, my PI license will end up being used to help the same way. Sometimes these women need a little extra help that just a counselor can’t give, but a private detective might be able to. We’ll just have to see how it goes, right?”

  And then on Friday, Dex and I finally got time to sit down and talk. We discussed a lot of things, like what we each would expect from the other if we lived together, and how we wanted to divide things like the household costs, chores, etc. We talked about how we would handle it if we broke up sometime down the road, and we talked about how long we’d want to be together before we considered taking it any further.

  By Saturday night, we had come to the conclusion that living together might not be that bad, and we borrowed a pickup truck from one of Dex’s work buddies and spent Sunday moving all of the stuff he couldn’t live without from his place to mine. Mostly, that constituted his clothes and, as he put it, a few other little personal items. One of those little personal items turned out to be a gun safe with a half-dozen rifles and shotguns inside. I didn’t mind, because I definitely like the taste of venison and Dex said he enjoyed deer hunting, so the gun safe ended up in my living room.

  Critter was delighted. On Sunday night, when she finally seemed to realize that he wasn’t going to be leaving to go home that night, she crawled up into his lap and made herself a nest, then lay down and began to purr.

  Dex and I were sitting on the couch together, and I was leaning against him with his arm around me. I glanced down at the cat that was curled up in his lap and smiled, then turned my face to give him a kiss.

  “I guess that makes it official,” I said.

  “Makes what official?” Dex asked.

  “What Critter just did. That’s her way of saying welcome home.”

  “Really? So, if the cat likes me, that means I’m accepted?”

  “Well, it isn’t that simple,” I said. “Getting the cat to like you is one thing, but now you have to make me like you, too.”

  “I do, huh?”

  “That’s right, that’s how it works. First you win the cat over, then you learn to please me. If you can achieve both those things, then you have a good chance at having a happy life.”

  “Well, let me think about this, now. I’ve already scored with Critter, so that’s half the battle. Now I’ve got to score with you.” He seemed to think about it for a minute, and then he pushed me off of him, picked up the cat and put her in my lap, and got up. I wondered what he was up to until he walked right out my front door.

  I sat there on the couch and stared at the door for a moment, but then I realized he wasn’t going to be gone long, because he didn’t bother to put a coat on. Since it was only twenty-nine degrees outside, I was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be outside for more than a minute or two, at most.

  I was right. He came back in less than ninety seconds later, holding something behind his back.

  “What have you got?” I asked.

  “Well, you know, we did miss the Christmas party, right?”

  “Yeah, but you brought me bath oils you said they gave you, anyway.”

  “That’s true, that’s true. Of course, it is only three days until Christmas, you remember that, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “Which means, this will basically be our first Christmas together, is that right?”

  I was trying my best not to break out into a smile. “You know it is.”

  “Well, since I didn’t get to take you to the Christmas party, and since our very first Christmas together is only three days away, I decided I wanted to give you an early Christmas present. I think it might help me in my quest to score with you, but I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  He put his fist up to his mouth and made trumpeting noises like a fanfare, then spun around quickly and ended up on one knee right in front of me. I almost started to panic, but the box he was holding in his hands, beautifully giftwrapped, was far too big for a ring.

  I reached out and took it carefully, then pulled the ribbon and untied it. It was laced through a couple of parts of the box, so it took a moment to get the lid off, but when I did—wow! Dex had pointed out a few pieces of lingerie at Victoria’s Secret that he said he would like to see on me, and I had toyed with the idea of eventually buying one or two of them.

  It looked like I wouldn’t have to. The box contained four different outfits, all of them luxuriously beautiful, sinfully slinky, and incredibly oo-la-la! I looked up at him and found him smiling like the cat that ate the canary.

  “What? You think buying me sexy lingerie is going to get you somewhere? Maybe you need to think about that a little longer.”

  “Oh, no, no, no,” he said. “I don’t think buying you anything would get me anywhere. You’re not the kind of girl that is going to be swayed by a pretty gift, I know that about you. On the other hand, I also know that, if you go put these on, and then I…”

  He leaned forward and whispered the rest to my good ear. I sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead and letting my mind explore the things he had just whispered, and then I jumped up so quickly that Critter screeched while she was still in midair. I took off into the bathroom and looked through the different items, then chose one and put it on. When I stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Dex was already in bed.

  I looked at him, and I think the smoldering light in my eye might have made him just a little bit nervous. He smiled at me, and the smile froze in place when I looked at him and said, “Prove it.”

  BOOK 3

  ONE LAST GAME

  ONE

  Something soft was touching the right side of my face, and I smiled. Dex was kissing me good morning, the way he sometimes did, and I loved it. I opened my eye and turned my face to kiss him properly, and Critter’s paw smacked me in the mouth.

  “Critter! What are you doing?” I spit a couple of times, just in case cat fur had gotten into my mouth.

  “She’s trying to tell you to get up,” Dex said from behind me on the bed. “She’s not used to us sleeping in this late, her bowl is probably empty.”

  I picked up my phone from the nightstand and glanced at it. Holy cow, it was almost noon! I didn’t panic because it was Saturday and I was off, but I still couldn’t believe it was that far into the day. “How on Earth did we manage to sleep so late?” I asked. “It’s eleven forty-nine.”

  “Probably has something to do with how late we got in,” Dex replied. “As I recall, it was around four o’clock this morning.”

  “Yeah, but I never sleep this late. Even when I’m up most of the night, I still wake up when the sun shines through the windows. I always do.”

  Dex rolled over toward me and wrapped an arm around me, pulling me back to him. “Then maybe it has something to do with after we got here,” he said, nuzzling the back of my neck. I tried to pull away, because he knows what that does to me, but there was no hope. The tickle and the tingle began at the same time, and I told Critter she was gonna have to wait.

  Luckily, neither of us was up to any long-term gymnastics. It was only about twenty minutes later when I made it to the kitchen in my bathrobe. Critter was waiting, sitting patiently beside her b
owl. I reached into the cabinet and pulled out a can of cat food and showed it to her, then watched her face as the can opener made the music she loves to hear.

  I don’t care what anybody says, a cat can smile. Critter does it all the time.

  “I agree with Critter,” Dex said as he made it into the kitchen. “It’s lunchtime.” He opened the freezer and looked inside, then closed it again. “What have we got that’s quick and easy?”

  “I can make chili-mac,” I said. “Or you could put some clothes on and run down to McDonald’s. I think they still have the rib sandwiches.”

  “Or we could both put clothes on and go out to lunch. I like that idea better.” He smacked me on the butt as he turned and went back toward the bedroom.

  I turned and looked at him as he walked, a mock look of annoyance on my face just in case he cast a glance over his shoulder. When he didn’t, I started after him. I caught up with him in our bedroom and stood with my hands on my hips, just staring at him.

  “In what universe did I ever give you permission to slap my bottom?” I asked.

  That got him to look my direction. “And in what universe did I ever ask? You know how it works when two people get together. What’s mine is yours and what yours is mine. Why would I ask permission to slap my own bottom?”

  I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing. Dex has that effect on me, and pretty damned often. My boss at the counseling center where I work, Marsha, says he is the best possible therapy for someone who’s been through the things I’ve been through.

  Just in case you don’t know, my name is Cassie McGraw. A few years earlier, while I was in college, I was engaged to what I thought was a wonderful man. To give you the short version of a very long story, it wasn’t very long before I discovered that he was actually a monster. Mike, despite being a decorated police detective, was the type of man who thoroughly enjoyed abusing women, to the point that he and four other cops had raped and murdered several prostitutes. That was before I met him, of course, but when he began to abuse me, I stumbled across evidence of his crimes. I took the evidence and fled, then reached out to a close friend to help me decide what to do.

  The two of us got together and decided to contact his superiors in law enforcement, but Mike found us. He and one of his buddies took us to a cabin in the middle of nowhere, intending to kill us. At some point, though, Mike had a change of heart and didn’t want me to die. His buddy killed him, and then poured gasoline on me and Abby, my friend, and set us on fire.

  Abby died from her burns. I survived, but the flames somehow took hold of the left side of my body. From the right, I look perfectly normal, and a little girl once told me that was my “pretty side.” On the left, however, all of the skin on my leg, my left arm, my side, and the left side of my neck and face was burned away. I lost my left ear and my left eye, and the two outer fingers of my left hand are fused together. Doctors said it was the only way to avoid amputating them.

  After I recovered, I returned to college to get a bachelor’s degree in psychology. After what had happened to me, I decided to devote myself to helping other women escape abusive situations. My degree allows me to work as an abuse counselor.

  To finish out this short version, the city of St. Louis, where Mike had been a detective, ended up giving me a massive settlement, based on the fact that other cops had actually suppressed evidence that would have gotten Mike arrested and convicted long before I ever met him. As a result, I don’t need money, so I work as a volunteer.

  And then, in a weird twist of fate, I ended up rescuing a young girl who had been kidnapped and was being abused by her stepfather. I was forced to kill him in the process, but somehow that turned me into some kind of hero. More than one person suggested that I consider becoming a private eye, but I basically just laughed it off.

  After that, Dex, a man I had met while working on that case, asked me to try to locate a missing friend of his, which ended up solving another mystery and allowed a young woman to regain a life she thought she lost. It was another feather in my cap, as far as local law enforcement was concerned, and I started to actually think about getting my PI license.

  And then, someone started abducting the women I was counseling. The police couldn’t come up with any valid leads, but I’m the sort who can’t sit back and wait. I talked to my friend Dex and another friend at the police department, and another private investigator Dex knew helped me to get a provisional PI license, which allowed me to investigate without breaking any laws. I’ve already told that story before, so I won’t go through it all again, but I caught the men who were doing it and saved several women in the process.

  Of course, those men sort of died. In my defense, I only killed one of them. The other one died as I was being rescued, but I can’t say I lost any sleep over it.

  It was after that when Dex and I, who had somehow sort of become friends-with-benefits, decided that we liked being together enough to share a place. Since I had bought my house and he was only renting, he moved in with me. That was about three months ago, and I have to say that I think it was a good decision.

  Besides, Dex is the only guy I know who can stand to look at me. Men don’t get misty for a girl who’s gone crispy. Dex says my scars don’t scare him a bit, and he’s proven that to me over and over. He was also burned, years ago when he was a kid, and even though his burn scars are covered by his clothing, he has some sense of how I feel. I’m not really self-conscious about the scars on my face and arm, the ones that show, but some of the ones that don’t show are kind of disturbing. Dex is the only person I can stand seeing them.

  Besides that, he just happens to be a fantastic lover.

  It took me a couple of minutes to get my laughing under control, and then I just started getting dressed. I probably needed a shower, but I didn’t feel like taking the time at that moment. As Dex had said, we had come dragging in not long before dawn. We had been out celebrating our three-month anniversary of moving in together, and even though the club had to stop selling drinks at two a.m., the dance floor stayed open until three thirty and the band kept playing, so we kept dancing.

  “You ready?” Dex asked. “I was thinking about going to the Cracker Barrel.”

  I finished brushing my hair, or what was left of it, and dropped the brush on the bathroom counter. “Cracker Barrel sounds good to me,” I said. He took my hand—my burned left hand—and we walked out the front door together.

  The day was nice and warm, with the sun shining beautifully. Even though it was late March, the last few days had been warmer than usual for this time of year, and I was enjoying it. Dex opened the passenger door of his gorgeous ’65 Mustang for me, and I just about bounced inside. He shut the door while I buckled my seatbelt, and then came around and got behind the wheel.

  I always like riding in the Mustang because the people we pass can’t see Freda. Freda, in case you don’t know, is what I call my burned side. I tell everybody she’s Freddy Krueger’s twin sister, hence the name: Freda Krueger.

  I’ve been living in Tulsa for about a year, now, and most of the places Dex and I go have gotten accustomed to seeing me. Sometimes the waitresses still tend to look away when they’re taking my order, but I don’t hold that against anyone. I have a mirror, and I know what I look like. The little sparkly things I put on my eye patches don’t really do much to detract from just how ugly that side of my face really is.

  Cracker Barrel, however, is one of the places where the staff is always gracious and welcoming. We probably eat there at least once a week, and we’ve gotten to know just about everybody who works there. As it turned out, one of the women I saved in the recent adventure I mentioned was the sister of the manager of the restaurant, and he recognized me from the photo they published in the newspaper. I guess he told all the rest of the employees that I was the private investigator who rescued his sister and several other women, and Dex and I have been treated like royalty there ever since.

  This day was no exception. Clarice,
the hostess on that shift, looked up and saw us and broke into a huge smile.

  “Cassie, Dex,” she said. “It’s good to see you. Is it just the two of you today?”

  “Yep,” Dex said, “just the two of us.”

  “We’re kind of busy today,” she said, “but I got a table for two that’s open. I’m afraid it’s right in the middle of the dining room, is that okay?”

  I shrugged. “It’s fine with me,” I said. “Just don’t hold me responsible if other customers get up and run out the door.”

  She stuck her tongue out at me. “If they do,” she said, “we don’t want their business anyway.”

  She led us to the table she had in mind, and it definitely was right smack in the middle of the dining room. The conversations around us suddenly got quieter, as some of the customers saw my scars. I confess to feeling a moment of self-consciousness, but then Clarice looked a couple of people in the eye and they all seemed to go back to discussing whatever it was they were talking about before.

  Dex and I picked up the menus as Clarice went to get the iced tea we ordered.

  “Hey,” I said, “they’ve got the campfire chicken on the menu today. That’s what I want.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Dex said. “I’m having the same thing.”

  “Good, you can have my carrots. I love the chicken and the potatoes, but I’ve just never been a big fan of roasted carrots.”

  “I’ll take ’em,” he said. He started to say something more, but Clarice came back with the tea at that moment and took our orders.

  Dex, who was sitting across from me, suddenly flicked his eyes to my left and frowned. He turned back to me almost instantly, then reached across and took my hand. I didn’t need him to tell me that someone was staring at me, because I could feel it.

  “Don’t look,” he said softly. “It’s a couple of kids, but apparently their parents haven’t taught them any better manners.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I whispered back. “You think it’s the first time kids have stared at me? I look like a monster to them, it’s natural.”