Cassie McGraw Box Set: Books 1-3

by David Archer

  I turned my head and looked their direction, and two kids, a boy and a girl who might have been ten years old, met my gaze steadily. That was unusual, so I smiled.

  “Are you Kathy McGraw?” the boy asked.

  I chuckled. “My name is Cassie McGraw,” I said. “You guys must be from around here, right?”

  Both of them nodded, and their parents turned to look at me. Their father smiled and leaned slightly toward me.

  “It is you, isn’t it?” he said. “Please forgive my kids, but you’re something of a hero to them.”

  My eye shot open. “I am?”

  “Yeah, I’m afraid so. We lived next door to Kendra McCoy and her daughter Melanie. I’m afraid the kids heard all about how you rescued Melanie from her stepdad. To hear Melanie tell it, you’re tougher than Batgirl. All three of them clipped your picture out of the newspaper and have it on their walls.”

  “Oh, great,” I said with a grin. “I’m surprised it doesn’t terrorize them in the night.”

  “Not at all,” his wife said. “Forgive me if this comes out the wrong way, but we actually used your picture, and their fascination with it, to point out that being scarred or injured or different in any way shouldn’t matter. What matters is who a person is, and you’re the kind of person we would prefer them to have for a hero. Especially compared to pop stars and other celebrities, and especially with the way some of them act nowadays.”

  My smile grew wider. “There’s nothing to forgive,” I said. “In fact, thank you. That’s something that a lot of us with scars would like people to know. It’s nice to hear that children are being taught something like that.”

  “Can we get your autograph?” the boy asked. He held out a napkin and a crayon toward me, and I smiled as I reached for it.

  “What are your names?” I asked, and then I wrote, “To Bobby and Lisa, All the Best, Cassie McGraw!” When I handed it over, both kids beamed from ear to ear as they showed it to their parents.

  We chatted with the family a bit until their food arrived, and ours showed up just a few minutes later. We lingered over our lunch and an extra cup of coffee afterward, and were surprised when we asked for a check to find out that it had already been paid.

  “The couple with the kids?” I asked Clarice.

  “Actually, they tried, but somebody beat them to it. It was the older couple that was sitting behind them. As they were getting up to leave, they pointed you out to me and asked for your check, too.”

  Dex pulled a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and pressed it into her hand. “Well, I can at least leave the tip,” he said.

  She pushed it back at him. “Believe me, you don’t need to. The old gentleman was quite generous.” She smiled and insisted he take the money back.

  We left the restaurant feeling grand, delighted to have run into a couple examples of the good parts of human nature. Too many times in my line of work, I see the other side.

  We sat in the car for a moment and talked about what else we might do for the afternoon, but both of us were still pretty tired after our late night. We stopped at a Red Box and got a couple of DVDs, then headed for home.

  The rest of the day went pretty nice, as well. We actually went back to bed for a while and took a nap, then got up around five and made popcorn to munch while we watched our movies. We sat on the couch, with me leaning comfortably against Dex, and Critter curled up in the spot where our laps met. It was a wonderful Saturday, and I remember telling myself to hold onto the memory of it.

  Maybe there was a part of me that knew it was going to be the last good Saturday I would have for a while.

  TWO

  Sunday was our loafing day, so Dex and I stayed around the house all day on Sunday. He went out and mowed the yard, first time in the year, and I fiddled around the house. I did a little cleaning, washed a couple loads of clothes and folded them, but mostly I sat on the back deck and watched Dex pushing the mower. He had his shirt off because he was sweating, and I could see his own burn scars that came up to the middle of his chest.

  When I was a kid, Sunday was the day my parents took me to church. As that thought drifted through my mind, I looked up at the sky and whispered a little prayer of thanks to God for letting me have Dex in my life. I wasn’t sure how long it would last, but I wanted to be grateful for him while I had him.

  Weekends pass, and I woke up again to a Monday morning. Dex had to leave for work before I did; he’s a mechanic at the Ford dealership, and they get backlogged if he isn’t there. From what his coworkers have told me, it seems he has to solve a lot of the problems the other mechanics run into.

  I kissed him goodbye and he left, and then I went back to the bathroom to get my shower and make myself as presentable as possible before heading to the counseling center. I volunteer my time at St. Mary’s Outreach for Battered Women and Children, and sometimes it’s hearing the story of what happened to me and gave me the scars that gives these women the strength to encourage them to get themselves and their children out of abusive situations.

  When that happens, I do two things. First, I thank God that my story might help save a life. Second, I tell Abby that we managed to save another one.

  That’s because they can tell you know what you’re talking about, Abby replies, or something like that. Yes, you’re not mistaken and you don’t need to look back at the first chapter. Yes, I did say Abby died the night we were burned, and I’m fully aware that the voice I hear in my head is nothing but my own subconscious trying to reassure me that she doesn’t blame me for her death. I do have a degree in psychology, remember? Now, let it go.

  I decided to dress as if it were already spring. I put on a bright yellow skirt and added a light pink top. A yellow sweater and a pair of pink boat shoes seemed to go just right with it all, and I finished it off with a pink leather eyepatch I had made. I grinned at myself in the mirror, then walked out and got into my little Kia Sportage and headed off to the Outreach.

  There was an awful lot of traffic that morning, and I was running a little late. This was compounded by the fact that I seemed to hit every red light between my house and the Outreach, and I was really starting to get frustrated by the time I got to the corner where I would turn so I could reach the alley behind it. I always parked in the back, because the one time I had parked my car on the street, the driver side mirror got broken off by a kid on a skateboard.

  Don’t laugh, it cost me almost 200 dollars to get it fixed.

  Of course, the light at that intersection was red, so I had to stop before turning, and then I had to wait a moment as a van with a cloud on the side cruised past me. The Outreach was actually half a block ahead of me, and I was just about to turn when the most horrendous noise made me slam on the brakes.

  At first, I thought someone had hit my car, because it felt like the whole world was shaking for a moment. I looked around, but there was nobody even terribly close, so I shrugged and was going to go ahead and turn.

  That’s when I saw the billowing smoke up ahead of me, and my gut twisted into knots as I realized it was coming from the Outreach.

  The light turned green, and I floored the car and shot straight ahead, cutting off the car in the lane beside me. I pulled up in front of what was left of the building and threw the car into park, turned on my emergency flashers and jumped out.

  The building was a shambles. Half the front wall was gone, and there were flames everywhere. I stood there in shock, just wondering what in the world could’ve happened, and suddenly there were dozens of people around me. Some were asking what happened, others were trying to get the rest of us to move away, but I pushed aside one man who dared to try to move me.

  Sirens rent the air, and two police cars slid to a stop around my Kia. One of the cops recognized me and asked if I knew what happened, but I only shook my head. I was in shock, I just couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

  The cop was talking to me, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I turned and looked at him an
d forced myself to focus.

  “What? What did you say?”

  “I asked you if anyone was in there,” he said. “Do you know if…”

  I whipped my face back toward the ruined building, and then I screamed.

  “My God, yes,” I said. “I was running late, that’s the only reason I wasn’t in there when it happened. Marsha, Angie, Nicole, Brenda… Oh my God, you have to get them out!”

  Fire engines had arrived without me even noticing them, and firemen were hooking up hoses and water began spraying into the building. Two of them put on oxygen masks and special clothing and actually went into the building, and I dropped to my knees where I stood and began praying.

  There was a fireman standing close to me, holding a radio. It suddenly crackled to life, and a voice came out of it.

  “Found a body,” the voice said. “looks like the receptionist, maybe.”

  The receptionist? I thought. A body? But that means Angie—Angie is dead?

  Everything went black.

  When I woke up, I was in the back of an ambulance. The paramedic was holding an oxygen mask over my face, but I pushed it away.

  “Cassie, take it easy,” I heard, and looked up to see Dex. He was standing just outside the ambulance and looking in at me.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “It came over the radio in the shop,” he said. “A special news bulletin. They said a bomb went off at St. Mary’s Outreach, and I just dropped my tools and ran for the car. I got here a few minutes ago and one of the cops told me you passed out and they put you in an ambulance, and that’s how I found you.”

  I was staring at him. “A bomb? They said it was a bomb?”

  He nodded. “That’s what it looks like at the moment,” he said. “They found Nicole, she’s alive but hurt. From what they tell me, they think she’s going to be okay, but a big section of the ceiling fell in on her. Some of the others weren’t so lucky.”

  I looked at him, my one good eye boring into both of his. “Marsha?”

  He grimaced, and I knew. Marsha was the director of the Outreach, my boss. She was the driving force that kept it going when even the bishop wanted to shut it down. The place would be finished without her, even if the diocese would provide the money to rebuild it.

  I started to cry, then, and I didn’t even bother to try to hold it back. Marsha was more than my boss, she was also my friend in many ways. Angie Milligan, the receptionist, had taken a while to become accustomed to Freda, but she and I had also become friends. There were other counselors who would have been there, as well.

  “Oh, Dex,” I cried. I pushed myself up off the stretcher and climbed out of the ambulance, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me as I bawled myself dry of tears.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder, and looked around. Alicia Perkins, the police detective who handled domestic abuse cases, was standing there.

  “Cassie? Are you okay?”

  “Hell, no,” I said. “Marsha is dead, and so is Angie. I don’t know about anybody else yet, except Dex said Nicole is still alive.”

  “I know,” Alicia said. “I’m not really on this case, but when I heard what happened I came anyway. I—I was afraid you were inside when it happened.”

  “I should have been,” I said. “I was running late because I wanted to get dressed up nice, and then I hit all the red lights. If not for that, I would’ve been inside the building at my desk when this happened.” I let go of Dex and forced myself to stand. “Dex says they’re saying it’s a bomb?”

  “It looks like it,” she said. “The firemen say the damage seems to have started a few feet behind the reception desk, probably right about where your office was. Jim Pennington is taking lead on the investigation, and I might as well tell you now, he’s asked me if I think someone might have been trying to target you.”

  I stared at her. “Me? He thinks someone was trying to kill me with a bomb?”

  “I told him I doubt it,” she said quickly. “He’s just looking at all possible motives, Cassie. That’s his job, don’t get upset.”

  “I’m not getting upset, I’m wondering if he could be right. Geez, do you think he could be? I mean, let’s face it, there are a lot of men out there who hate my guts. Every time I get a woman to leave her abusive husband, I’m the one he blames. Do you honestly think one of them might have tried to get back at me this way?”

  “I told you, I don’t think that,” Alicia said. “Jim just has to consider all the possibilities. Cassie, don’t get yourself all torn up over this. We’re going to need your help just to figure out what happened.”

  A thousand thoughts raced through my mind in a matter of seconds, but the one that stood out from all of them was this: if someone planted a bomb to try to kill me, then all of the others who died would have been nothing but collateral damage to him. It would mean they didn’t matter, and the more that thought bounced around the inside of my skull, the angrier I became.

  “Where’s Pennington?” I asked. “I’m going to help, all right. I’m going to find the son of a bitch who did this.”

  Alicia started to say something, but I guess she thought better of it. She closed her mouth and motioned for me to follow her. I didn’t need to look to know that Dex fell in right behind me.

  Pennington was a big man, probably six foot six and a good two hundred and eighty pounds. He wasn’t fat, not by any stretch of the imagination. Everything about him was solid, and I guessed he probably spent hours each week at a gymnasium.

  “Jim?” Alicia said. “This is Cassie McGraw.”

  Pennington looked me up and down, but I didn’t see the disgust I normally spotted in someone’s eyes the first time they got a good look at me. Instead, I saw that he was measuring me up, trying to decide whether I was going to be worth putting any effort into.

  I guess he liked something about what he saw, because he held out a hand. “Detective Jim Pennington,” he said. “I understand you worked in there. First, let me say I’m sorry for your losses. I didn’t know any of these women personally, but I respect the work they were doing here. That you all were doing here.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “They were my friends, not just my coworkers.” I looked him in the eye. “You probably already know, but I’m a licensed private investigator. I want to know how I can help.”

  “Yes, I know,” he said. “It’s probably going to be a little while before I get time, but I’m going to need to sit down and talk with you. From what I’ve been told, the bomb was apparently planted somewhere around your office, possibly even inside it. That makes me wonder if someone was trying to get you. Can you think of anyone who might want to blow you to hell?”

  “Our records are all backed up in the cloud,” I said. “When I get to a computer, I can print you out a list, but it may be pretty long. Every husband whose wife left him over abuse after she talked to me would probably love to see me blasted this way. Unfortunately, I can’t point to any particular one who might actually try it, but it’s definitely a possibility.”

  Pennington nodded. “That’s pretty much what I thought,” he said. “I’ve already got our IT department trying to track down your records, but if you can get into them, that will help.”

  I nodded my head. “I can,” I said. “If you get them on the phone, I’ll give them my login and password.”

  He took out a phone and dialed the number, then handed it to me. I spoke with a girl named Melissa and told her how to get into the cloud server we had used. A moment later she told me she was in, and would begin printing everything out for the detectives to look over.

  I gave the phone back to Pennington and looked at him. “Now, how else can I help? And don’t tell me to go home and stay out of it, because that’s not going to happen. I want this bastard caught.”

  “Cassie, I understand that,” he said. “At the same time, you need to let us do our job. However, it’s pretty obvious to me that you have no intention of doing that, so I’ll make you
a deal. You promise to share anything you find out with me, and I’ll do the same with you. Shake on it?” He stuck out his hand again.

  I grabbed it and shook it firmly. “You got a deal. When do you want to sit down and talk?”

  He looked around at the scene for a moment, then looked back at me. “There’s not really anything for me to do here,” he said. “How about now? You got time to come to my office?”

  “You bet,” I said. I turned around and found Dex standing right behind me, and I threw my arms around him. “Thank you for coming,” I said. “It means a lot to me.”

  “Yeah? Well, thank you for not being inside that damn building when it blew up. Cassie, I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you. I know you’re not ready to hear it, but…”

  I put a finger to his lips to stop him. “Dex,” I said, “I know. I know, but right now I have to concentrate on this. You go back to work, and I’ll call you when I get done with the detective.”

  He pushed my finger away gently, then kissed me and turned to walk away. I started toward my car as I heard the Mustang fire up and drive away.

  It took a few minutes to get to the police department, and it still seemed like I was hitting every red light. Pennington had made it back before I did and was waiting for me in his office when I arrived. He had a print out of all of the clients of the outreach on his desk, and was concentrating on my cases.

  “You have been a busy lady,” he said. “If I’m reading all this correctly, you’ve actually gotten more than a hundred women to leave their husbands and boyfriends and go into shelters. Does that sound about right?”

  “A hundred and seven,” I said. “I don’t know if you’re aware of my history, but the way I look is connected to my own abusive relationship years ago. I’m very proud that I had something to do with the fact that a hundred and seven women, and an awful lot of their kids, are no longer suffering from abuse.”

  “You should be,” Pennington said. “I’ve worked abuse cases, and they suck. Half the time, you can’t get the victims to show up and testify.”