by David Archer
“Dex, if you could do any kind of work you wanted, what would it be?”
“Me? I’d probably have my own shop, and do nothing but build classic cars. Build them right, and you can make a fortune doing that.”
“Then why aren’t you doing it?”
He chuckled. “I think I know where you’re going, and I think you know what I’ll say. The reason I’m not doing it now is because it would cost a hell of a lot of money to get started. If you’re thinking of offering to bankroll me…”
“I am, but not just for the reason you think. If you had your own business, then you could be available if I needed you, right?”
He was quiet for a moment, and I started to worry that I had insulted him.
“That’s true,” he said. “To get set up right would probably cost a hundred grand, maybe more, and that isn’t even counting what it would take to buy a car to start with.”
“I could write the check today,” I said. “Interested?”
“I’d have to think about it,” he said. “My problem would be that it might be quite some time before I make any money doing that, so I wouldn’t exactly be able to make payments back to you, like on a loan.”
“You wouldn’t have to pay me back,” I said, but he cut me off before I could say any more.
“Cassie, I couldn’t handle taking your money that way.”
“Would you let me finish a sentence? What I was going to say was that you wouldn’t have to pay me back, because we could be partners. You can run it however you want to, and someday when it makes money I get my share.” I thought for a moment about just how stubborn and independent he could be. “You take sixty percent, give me forty. Would that work?”
There was silence on the phone for ten whole seconds. “Give me an hour,” he said. “I’ll come to your office for lunch again, okay?”
I smiled. He was hooked, and we both knew it. “Okay, honey,” I said sweetly. “See you then.”
I sat back in my chair and put my feet up on the desk. I was suddenly feeling a lot less stressed, and I needed only a moment to figure out why. See, as independent as I am, I’m not stupid.
Dex was in the Army, and he’s a pretty tough guy. I had asked Alicia to check him out when I first met him, which is how I found out that he had earned two medals for bravery, and once kicked the snot out of six gang bangers in a bar because they were threatening a couple of women with unnecessary roughness. If there was anybody in the world I would trust to watch my back, it was him, so my sudden lightness of heart probably had to do with the fact that his presence would help me stay alive and healthy.
He showed up right on time, and brought pizza with him. We took it into my office and ate at my desk, and I didn’t even bring up the idea. I waited until we were done eating, then just looked at him.
“So,” he said, “I really thought long and hard about what you suggested.”
“Okay. And what did you decide?”
“I have to go back this evening and pick up my tools. It means I’ll have to go rent a truck after you close down for the day, and I’m afraid they’re going to take up a lot of your garage until I find a shop building. Cassie, are you sure about this? It’s not too late for me to go back and tell the boss I changed my mind and want to stay.”
I smiled, then leaned forward and kissed him. “I’m sure,” I said. “Dex, having you to watch my back for me is going to mean a lot to me. There’s nobody else I would trust that far, do you know that?”
“Good,” he said. “There’s nobody else I would trust that far, either. If anyone is going to watch your back, it’s going to be me.”
“I’m just surprised you got away with quitting already. Didn’t they demand a two week notice?”
He grinned. “Jerry tried,” he said. “I explained to him that somebody was apparently trying to kill you, and that I needed to be with you, and he understood.”
The look in his eyes told me that he probably said more than that, but I suspected it was things I wasn’t ready to hear. One of the agreements we had made when we moved in together was that we wouldn’t talk about any long-term future plans until we were both ready to do so. I just wasn’t ready, yet, and Dex knew that.
Dex did not have a concealed carry permit. It’s not that he couldn’t get one, it’s just that he never wanted one. He told me once that he didn’t trust his own temper, that there had been times in his life when it had gotten the best of him. He didn’t want to be armed should such a thing happen again, because he wasn’t certain he would not draw a gun and use it.
Playing bodyguard to me was going to be a whole different ball game, though. I hesitated for just a moment, then looked him in the eye.
“I think it’s time you started to carry a gun,” I said.
He frowned. “Do you really think that’s necessary?”
“I think it’s like my daddy used to say,” I said to him. “It’s a whole lot better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it. I’m sure you know how to handle a gun, right?”
He snorted. “Of course,” he said. “I even have a couple, but they’re put away. I just don’t think it’s a smart idea for me to carry one all the time.”
“Dex, how long has it been since you actually lost your temper on anybody?”
He shrugged. “Couple of years, I guess. That time in the bar.”
“How many of them did you kill? Don’t give me that look, you and I both know that the way you beat them could have been a lot worse than it was. You didn’t kill any of them, and you know why? Because you’re not a killer.”
He looked me dead in the eye. “Frank Rawlings might disagree with that,” he said.
“That was different,” I said. “If you hadn’t done what you did, he would’ve killed me. Everybody understood, remember? Nobody even threatened to charge you with anything.”
“You’re right, that was different,” he said. “But what do I do when I get mad because some guy is flirting with you?”
I burst out laughing, and it was almost hysterical. “Oh! Oh! Oh, I needed that. Dex, you are the only man who has even attempted to flirt with me since the night Freda Krueger came into my life. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it; men don’t see me as a woman, they see me as a freak. The last thing in the world you ever have to worry about is some guy hitting on me, because the minute somebody does, I’m going to turn and make sure he sees both sides. Trust me, they disappear in a hurry when I do that. I can’t imagine that you’d ever have a reason to get mad over somebody flirting with me.”
He just sat there and stared at me for a moment, and it dawned on me that, for all his macho bravado, Dex was a bit on the insecure side. There honestly was a part of him that was afraid somebody might try to take me away, even though I couldn’t imagine it at all.
“Dex,” I said. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
He forced himself to smile. “Okay,” he said. “I guess I can get a permit. You want to run to the house with me real quick, so I can grab a pistol?”
I looked at the clock I had hung on the wall. “I’ve got an appointment coming in about fifteen minutes,” I said. “You can go get one, I should be fine until you get back.”
He shook his head. “Give me yours,” he said. “When your appointment gets here, I’ll take it out and sit at the front desk. I’m not leaving you alone again.”
I smiled as I took the gun out and passed it to him. He carried it out to the front desk and put it in the drawer, then called out to me.
“Looks like your client is early,” he said. I started to get up, but I heard him unlock the front door and tell the lady that I was in the first office on the right.
Beverly Walker had been coming to see me at St. Mary’s for over a month, stopping in once a week to talk about her husband, Chris. Chris would get mildly physical with her at times—never hitting, but sometimes pushing her into a chair she was trying to get out of, or refusing to let her leave the room—but mo
st of the abuse she suffered was verbal and emotional. Beverly was short, only about four foot eleven, and just a bit on the chunky side. According to Chris, she looked like Miss Piggy.
Personally, I thought Beverly was quite pretty. She had auburn hair that she wore just down to her shoulders, and she kept it in beautiful condition and nicely curled. Her eyes were brown, and she had a pert little nose that sat over a pair of the most perfect lips I’ve ever seen.
“Beverly,” I said as she came in. “I’m glad to see you. How are things going?”
“They actually seem to be getting a little better,” Beverly said. “I tried what you suggested, just letting him rant when he starts in, and it seems like he gets tired of it pretty quickly. As long as I don’t argue, he just sort of fizzles out after a couple of minutes.” She suddenly smiled. “In fact, just yesterday, he got all mad about the bills because we didn’t have quite enough to pay them this week, and he started yelling at me that I was lazy, didn’t bother to contribute. Normally, I would always yell back that he didn’t want me to go to work, but this time I just sat there and kept quiet. After a couple of minutes, he just stopped yelling and walked away, and then a few minutes later he came back and kissed me and told me he was sorry.”
I nodded. “He’s what we call an emotionally dominant abuser. He wants to be able to express his feelings, without having to listen to yours. When he gets what he wants, when he’s satisfied, then he’ll become compassionate. How has he been as far as insulting your appearance?”
“You know, it’s funny,” she said. “The last few days, he’s actually told me that it looked like I was losing weight. He complimented my hair and said he liked the way I was dressed, yesterday.”
“Beverly, how does that make you feel?”
She sat there for a moment and just looked at me, and a hint of a smile came onto her face. “You know what? Kinda makes me feel the way I did when we first got together.”
I looked at her and thought carefully about what to say next. “Beverly, are you content to live like that? Keeping your own opinions to yourself?”
She cast her eyes downward for a moment, but then brought them right back up to meet mine. “I don’t know if I can do it all the time,” she said. “But, yes, I could live like this most of the time. I mean, maybe I was more to blame for our arguments and fights than I admitted to myself. When I just let him vent, he lets it go a lot quicker, and even acts more loving toward me.” She licked her lips. “You’re going to tell me that it might not last, right?”
“That depends on Chris. If he’s really being satisfied by getting to vent, then you’ll probably see less of his venting over time. If not, though, then he’ll eventually start pushing, trying to get you to fight with him. It’s what we call an escalation. If he escalates, then there’s a strong likelihood that the escalation will continue over time, and the abuse will eventually return and may become worse.”
“But you don’t know that for sure, right?”
“Of course I don’t,” I said. “I’m not a fortune teller, I’m a counselor. My job is to help you understand the situation you’re in, and to help you get out of it if that’s what you choose. Unless I honestly believe that you’re in danger, I’m ethically bound to leave it entirely up to you. Frankly, I don’t think Chris is dangerous, not at this point. He may never be dangerous to you, but I want you to be aware that it’s a possibility. If you can handle letting him vent, and it seems to be making things better between you, then I think you might have a chance to work things out. If he starts pushing you into fights, though, it might be time to insist on marriage counseling.”
Beverly smiled. “The thing is, I really do love him, and I believe that he loves me. I just can’t really handle the fighting and yelling and everything, but so far this seems to be working.” She leaned forward, as if to get closer to me. “Cassie, I don’t know how to thank you. It’s talking to you that gave me the strength to try doing things your way, and just seeing him apologize—that was such a change, such a difference from the way things have been lately.”
I winked at her. “Has it made any difference as far as intimacy goes?”
She giggled, and she blushed. That was pretty much all the answer I needed.
Every once in a while, one of the women that comes to me is willing to listen to some advice and try some things to see if the situation will improve. It’s extremely gratifying to me when I see even the slightest sign that a marriage might turn around. Chris and Beverly had a chance, now, and I truly hoped they could find happiness together again.
But I still scheduled her for another appointment the following week.
I followed her out front and waved goodbye as she left, then sat down in one of the extra chairs and looked at Dex. “So, how do you like your new position as receptionist?” I asked.
“The job is easy,” he said. “Of course, the pay sucks, but I have a great boss.”
I giggled at him. Sometimes, this man knew exactly how to make my day.
ELEVEN
Dex was looking at something on the computer, so I moved my chair to let me look over his shoulder. “What’re you doing?” I asked.
“Taking you at your word,” he said. “I’m looking for shop buildings that might be available at reasonable rent. Look at this one.”
He turned the monitor slightly so I could see it better, and showed me an old gas station.
“It’s got three full mechanical bays, with a lift in each of them. It sits on a corner lot that’s a full acre, and it’s already fenced in. It’s just about ideal for what I’ve got in mind, but would you like to hear the best part?”
“Sure,” I said. “What’s the best part?”
“If you go out your front door here and turn right,” he said, “then go to the corner and turn right again, you will walk right into it. It’s on the other side of this block.”
My eyebrow went up. “Really? You’d actually be that close?”
He nodded. “Yep. I could install a panic button in your office and out here in the reception area, so if something was going wrong, you could push the button and it would sound a buzzer or something. If I came to the back door, I could be here in less than thirty seconds.”
I smiled. “Call them,” I said. “Let’s get it.”
“Not so fast, Ms. Moneybags,” he said. “The rent is pretty high for this area. They want fifteen hundred a month, but I think that’s because they’re trying to sell it.”
“But it’s a whole acre? How much are they asking for it, to buy it, I mean?”
“A hundred and fifty thousand,” he said. “That’s why I think the rent is too high. At that price, it should go for less than a thousand a month.”
I smiled at him and took out my phone, then dialed a number from my contacts.
“Hey, who are you calling?” Dex asked, but I held up a finger to tell him to wait.
“Tulsa Maxwell,” a receptionist answered. “How may I direct your call?”
“I like to speak to David LaBarre, please. Tell him it’s Cassie McGraw calling.”
She put me on hold for a moment, and then David came on the phone. “Cassie? Hey, how are you?”
David LaBarre was my personal banker. When I moved to Tulsa, I brought my money along, and put it into investment accounts at Tulsa Maxwell, an investment bank with an outstanding reputation. The principal in my accounts earned me eleven percent interest, giving me close to three hundred and twenty-five thousand a year to live on, after taxes and everything.
In reality, more than half of that went back into the principal each year, so it was actually growing. David was the guy who monitored the investments my money was tied up in, to make sure that it continued to grow for me. He also handled all of my other banking business.
“I’m pretty good, David,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m great,” he said. “My wife and I just had our third baby, a girl.”
I gave him my congratulations and we chatted for a c
ouple of minutes, then I got down to business. “David, the reason I’m calling is because I want to make a direct investment into something. There’s a piece of property I’m interested in buying, and I’d like to set the financing up through you.”
“Sure, Cassie,” he said. “Give me the particulars.”
I gave him the address of the property, and the MLS number from the webpage. As my investment banker, David had my power of attorney for investment purposes, so he could actually handle the whole thing on my behalf. He told me to hold on for a moment while he looked it up on the Internet.
“Oh, the old Amoco station. Back when I was a kid, my parents used to buy gas there all the time. It’s been a towing service the last few years, but I guess they went out of business.”
“I guess so. I have a tenant all ready to rent it, so I’d like to get this locked down pretty quickly.”
“Okay, not a problem. Do you have an idea what you want to offer on it?”
“Now, David, you know I’m no good with money. I’ll let you handle that, all right?”
He chuckled. “I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” he said. “To be honest, I think I can get it for about a hundred, maybe a hundred and five. Let me get started, and I’ll call you back.”
I thanked him and ended the call, then looked at Dex. He was staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t expect you to just up and buy it,” he said. “Isn’t that going to take a bite out of your principal?”
“Oh, not at all,” I said. “David will negotiate the best price he can get for the place, then he’ll set up financing for it. Because I have so much money in his bank, I’ll get an extremely low interest rate, so the payments won’t be very high at all. Since we’re partners, I just figured this was the best way to handle it. We don’t have to worry about the owner deciding to sell the place out from under us sometime down the road.”