The Cure May Kill You: A Cassidy Hudson Mystery

by Carlie Lemont

  “Hoo-ah!” Cassidy cried out and, raising both arms above her head, elbowed her opponent hard in the gut. Bertha flinched, but held fast, so Cassidy stomped on Bertha’s foot, then head-butted her face. Bertha relinquished her grip, stumbling backwards.

  A deeply suppressed rage flowed through Cassidy and, as she regrouped, launching a counterattack came easily. She rocked back onto her right foot, then delivered a side-kick to Bertha’s chest, which Bertha managed to block with her thick, jiggly arms before closing in to again grab ahold of Cassidy. Instinct drove her back and to the side, and she used the larger woman’s forward momentum to push her away. This turn of events positioned Cassidy to slam her elbow into Bertha's back. She immediately collapsed to her knees with a thud. Cassidy shuffled back, preparing to continue her defense, only to stand and watch Bertha struggling like a cow on ice to get up from the floor, no doubt winded and unable to re-muster her energy.

  “I did it! I won!” Cassidy jumped up and down, arms raised and waving about.

  “Congratulations,” Jagger said as he and his assistant helped Bertha to her feet. “I want you two warriors to shake hands.”

  Reluctantly, the two women did so, then wiped their palms clean on their pants. JJ appeared behind Cassidy with a tube of hand sanitizer, and Cassidy welcomed the cool, evaporating liquid with a smile, rubbing her hands with it until they dried. Like frosting on a cake, it completed her.

  “This was a great class,” Jagger said. “One of the best I’ve had in a while. I’ll be teaching another one in a couple weeks, and you’re all invited to attend. I sincerely hope you’ll never have to use what you’ve learned here today, but if you do, remember: stay focused.” Then, he waved his hands over his head. “You’re all dismissed.”

  Everyone gathered up their belongings and stopped long enough to thank Jagger for his time. Afterwards, Cassidy and JJ strolled back to her car.

  “That was fantastic,” Cassidy said once they were both inside.

  “I guess. Personally, I don’t like fighting. It’s just so aggressive.”

  “Hey, it’s kill or be killed out there. I plan to be on the winning end.”

  In the silence that followed, JJ fidgeted in his seat, then cleared his throat. “Cassidy, I saw the word scratched into your car door.”

  Cassidy sagged. “Did you? I tried to block it. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “No, but I’m going to try to find out, and when I do ...” Cassidy slammed her fist into her palm.

  JJ’s phone beeped, and he flinched at the sound.

  “Who keeps texting you?”

  “Nobody. Don’t worry about it.” And JJ turned off his phone, turning to stare out the window.

  “You look frightened. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Nothing’s going on! I just don’t want to talk about it right now. Can’t you just let it drop?”

  “Geez, fine,” said Cassidy, and she started her car, put it into gear, adding JJ’s mysterious texts to her ever-growing list of things to get to the bottom of before it was too late.

  CHAPTER 20

  A

  fter their dinner together and taking JJ back to his place, all Cassidy really wanted to do was take Max out for a potty break. He deserved a little sniff-and-squat time, after all. And once his needs were met, she’d pour herself a large glass of wine and sit in a hot bubble bath with a good book. Her favorite author had just released a new murder mystery that promised to be chock-full of intrigue, suspense, and steamy romance. Considering the strange day she’d just had, Cassidy planned to relax the rest of it away.

  She pulled into her assigned parking space, her plan all set for the evening, and quickly grabbed the baseball cap and oversized sunglasses from the glove box to make herself incognito. But just as she was getting out of the car, the annoying downstairs neighbor pulled up next to her. Cassidy grimaced and pretended to rummage through the center console, waiting for the woman to go through the gate and out of visual range.

  “Finally,” Cassidy muttered, and she shoved all of the miscellaneous paperwork back into the console, where it would stay until she had to pretend to look through it in the future. One of these days she’d clean and organize the mess, though that wasn’t likely to happen any time soon.

  She got out of her car and hurried through the gate onto the complex premises, hastening toward the sanctuary of her own home and away from any possible weirdos. Around the last corner, her front door came into view, and she prayed that Max would make quick work of his potty time. She planned to promise him lots of treats, games, hugs, and scratches behind the ears. Then, it would be her alone time. How great it would feel to sit shoulder-deep in the tub with warm, soothing water and lavender bubble bath washing away the remnants of her day. She just had to make it to the front door.

  A smile spread across her lips, and Cassidy picked up the pace, stride lengthening the closer she got to the stairway.

  “Almost there,” she said, taking the first two stairs in a single bound. Not an easy feat in four-inch heels.

  “Almost where?” A familiar voice came from behind her.

  She halted mid-stride and spun around. Despite the dark sunglasses and the brim of the cap, the bright sun shone into her eyes making it difficult to see. She was forced to squint and shield her face with her hand, which wasn’t the most flattering pose, in her opinion. But she was pleased to see Cruz’s face smiling at her.

  “Sneaking up on me again, I see.”

  “You always think the worst of me.” Cruz grinned, then looked down at his feet, seeming uncomfortable. Unusual, from what Cassidy remembered of their previous meeting.

  But the long, awkward silence began to unnerve her, and before she could come up with something funny, charming, or flirtatious to say, she blurted out, “What do you want?”

  “Wow. Straight to the point. I like that.” He cleared his throat and cocked his head with a semi-flirtatious expression. “Well, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in... um... having dinner with me tonight?”

  “Sorry, but I just ate. Maybe next time,” she said, trying to be nonchalant despite her rapidly beating heart. In her book, it was never good to seem too eager around men.

  “That’s too bad. I had a great feast planned.”

  Cassidy waited for him to continue, to elaborate on this “great feast” of his, but he didn’t. Instead he stood there, eyeing her.

  “Well... okay, then. I guess I’ll see you later.”

  “I guess so,” Cruz said with a nod.

  Cassidy hitched one shoulder, then turned to stride up the steps again, when Cruz cleared his throat for a second time.

  “Maybe I can come by after I finish eating dinner. We can have a relaxing drink and get to know each other better.”

  Cassidy half-pivoted toward him. “Sounds nice.”

  “Good. I’ll drop by around nine o’clock. You like red wine?”

  “Of course I do!” Cassidy laughed. “But... how about we meet over by the pool, instead? Quite frankly, I don’t know you that well, and I don’t let strangers into my apartment. Sound good?” She crossed her fingers behind her back.

  “Of course. One can never be too careful these days. I’ll see you at nine, poolside.” He smiled and strolled off down the path.

  Cassidy rushed up the stairs, fumbled with her keys, and upon entering her apartment, was greeted by Max.

  “What am I doing?” she said to her beloved canine companion as she bent down and loved on him. “I barely know this guy, I have nothing to wear, and it’s been at least a month since I’ve done a sit-up.” She groaned at the situation, scratching Max’s ears and under his chin for solace. “Come on, Max. Let’s make this a quick potty break. It’s been forever since I’ve gone on a date—if you can even call this a date—and I need as much prep time as I can get. I’ll make it up to you later this evening, I promise. I’ll even give you extra puppy treats.”

  Ma
x wiggled around in her arms and gave her a head bump in the chest, nearly knocking her to the floor.

  Cassidy laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes. Thanks, buddy.” After feeding Max, she grabbed his leash, and Max held up his end of the bargain.

  After coming back inside and dishing out twice as many treats as Max would normally receive, Cassidy skipped to her bedroom to find the perfect first-date ensemble.

  In the center of Cassidy’s closet was a chair she’d sometimes sit in to contemplate the day, to dream of dates she might have, and to plan for special events that might someday occur. Always—always—something would come to mind.

  This time, however, as she sat there waiting for a spark of inspiration... nothing happened. No mind-blowing revelations, no visions of the perfect outfit, not even a hesitant whisper from the closet that would so often scream to her, “Wear this outfit!” For the first time ever, it remained silent.

  Panic set in.

  Within minutes, Cassidy had torn apart the entire closet, sifting through everything, and now clothes were strewn over every available surface, even Max. He shook his head to rid himself of at least two outfits that hadn’t made the cut. Cassidy settled on a cute, hot pink-and-black string bikini she hoped wouldn’t actually be seen, and to hide a couple problem areas, she picked out a great Armani beach cover-up she’d purchased, but never worn. Its white knit material would allow enough of a sneak peek to make someone curious about the details.

  Cassidy stood at the mirror to examine her look, which she’d finished off with a pair of four-inch sandal wedges by Steven Madden, Ltd.

  She turned to Max. “What do you think, boy? Sexy enough to tempt, but not give anything away?” If this guy had any class, he’d know that she had some, too.

  Max wagged his tail in approval, which earned him extra scratches and a belly rub, his favorite. After re-hanging two shirts, Cassidy scanned the walk-in closet, which was now a disaster area, and Max had already made a new bed out of the clothing on the floor. Sighing in resignation, and not having thirty minutes to put everything back, Cassidy pushed the task of cleaning up to another time. She glanced at her watch—five minutes left to get to the pool. Usually, she didn’t worry about irrelevant things like promptness, but she didn’t want Cruz to think she wasn’t coming and leave before she’d arrived.

  Cassidy glanced back at her reflection. “Well, this is as good as it’s going to get.” And since she’d made her mind up to go to the pool as-is, she hurried to the kitchen for a single shot of tequila, just to take the edge off and settle her escalating anxiety. But after opening her third pantry door, she discovered she had no clean glasses anywhere in her apartment. She wouldn’t resort to drinking directly from the bottle like some boozehound, so Cassidy did what she’d often done in college: emptied out a small salt shaker and took a shot from it. She and a friend used to keep shakers in the car’s glove box to take calming shots from before going to various frat parties. Ah, college days.

  Satisfied and sufficiently calm, Cassidy opened the front door and took the first step toward what she hoped was a fun evening. After a thirty-second walk from her apartment to the pool area, Cassidy smiled at the sight of Cruz, who’d already arrived and had secured two chairs and a table in the corner where they could have some privacy. Not that many people sat poolside. In fact, only one or two stragglers waded through the shallow end, and by the looks of them, they were completing their weekly bath-time. She wouldn’t be getting in the water tonight. Cruz would need to put extra chlorine in the pool the next time he cleaned it, that’s for sure.

  “Hey! I’m glad you made it,” Cruz said as Cassidy approached.

  He stood and pulled out the other chair for her, wearing a warm smile that made her melt, starting with her heart and ending in her knees. He also had a good sense of style: a nice pair of jeans that hugged his butt and hinted at well-muscled thighs, with a fashionably fitted name brand shirt, first three buttons undone. Cassidy fought hard not to stare, but his intoxicating scent pulled her right back in. She couldn’t place the cologne, though it should have been named “Irresistible.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Smiling, she took the seat across from him. “So.”

  “So... here we are.”

  They both laughed.

  “This is so awkward," Cassidy said.

  “I know. I’m sorry. It has to be my fault. I haven’t dated much recently, and I’m a bit nervous.”

  “Who said anything about us dating?” Cassidy blurted out, immediately chastising herself for such a moronic comment. “I mean, there’s nothing about tonight that should make you nervous. It’s just two people having drinks by the pool. Right?”

  Cruz shifted in his chair. “Of course. I didn’t mean that we were on a date. Just meant it’s been so long since I’ve shared a drink with such a beautiful woman.”

  Now it was Cassidy’s turn to shift in her seat. “And speaking of drinks, did you bring something to share?”

  “Oh right, yes.” Cruz reached under the table and pulled out a small wine bottle chiller filled with ice and a brand of wine she didn’t recognize. “I hope you like my choice,” he said. “I picked it out for a special occasion.”

  “I’m sure it’ll taste delicious.” Then, she laughed. “Wow, that makes me sound like a lush. I assure you, though, I am not.” Special occasion? I like the sound of that.

  “I’m not much of a wine drinker, myself. I usually prefer a frosty mug of beer. But I just so happened to have these wine glasses, and they looked like they could hold a good amount.” And he poured wine all the way to the top of the first glass, then handed it to Cassidy and did the same for his own.

  Cassidy smiled at his wine etiquette mistake. He really was trying. She liked that.

  For a few moments, they sat sipping their wine, enjoying each other’s company, the discomfort of being together wearing off.

  “So,” Cruz said, breaking the silence, “tell me a little about yourself.”

  Cassidy gave him a sideways glance. “This almost seems like a job interview, or an interrogation or something.”

  His face flushed red. “You’re right. Silly me. Let me start like this, then: What do you do for a living?”

  “I’m a physical therapist. And if you have a sore back, or want a massage, I’m off duty.”

  “Fair enough. Me, too. Where are you originally from?”

  “Chicago. Well, the suburbs, actually.”

  “Do you have family in the area?”

  “No, thank goodness.” She took another sip of wine. “My mom’s a wonderful... no, that’s not the right word. She’s just a person, really, who lives in Hawaii. The Pacific Ocean and the North American continent act as a buffer between us.”

  Cruz smirked. “That bad, huh?”

  “Nah”—Cassidy shrugged—“but we do have a special relationship based on guilt, nagging, denial, and thousands of miles of separation. It works for us.”

  “How about your father?”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “You sure do ask a lot of questions, mister.”

  “Yeah, I know. It’s kind of in my nature, I suppose.”

  “It’s okay... I guess. Do you have any fun questions?”

  “Fun questions...”He paused to mull this over. “Okay, here’s one: What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Worst thing?” Cassidy took a larger sip, and Cruz smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I guess that’d have to be the time I backed over my neighbor’s mailbox and blamed it on my mom.”

  “Doesn’t really seem all that terrible. How old were you?”

  “Oh, that was just a few years ago. Before I moved into this apartment.”

  Cruz laughed. “Really? You sure that’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  “Okay, my turn. What brings you to this dump of an apartment complex? Did they woo you with the broken workout equipment, or simply lie through their teeth like they did with me?” She giggl
ed, finishing off her glass of wine.

  Cruz refilled it to the top. “I guess you can say I was in the right place at the right time. The apartments are decent enough, though, don’t you think?”

  “They’re all right, I suppose. But most of the people who live here are either super annoying or complete social misfits. I thought I’d make friends when I moved here. All I ended up with was Sasquatch for a stalker.” Then, she glanced down at his wineglass. “You know, I swear you haven’t even touched your drink. Are you trying to get me drunk?” And she grinned, chastising him. “I’m used to having a drink, but usually not more than one or two, and these glasses are really, really big.”

  “Nonsense,” he said. “I’m drinking, too. See?” He took a sip of wine. “I did see that big guy talking to you. He was rather hairy, but he seemed really into you.” And Cruz joined her in a round of laughter.

  Soon, a comfortable silence had settled over the table. Cassidy had already consumed half of her second glass, and she was feeling it.

  “So,” Cruz said, “did you hear about the murders? The news said a couple of older people were killed.”

  Cassidy placed her glass down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I’m just curious about your take on it. Personally, I think it’s the same person who did it. I heard a statistic once that one hundred and fifty serial killers are on the loose in the US at any given time. They just haven’t been caught yet.”

  Cruz offered Cassidy more to drink. She waved away the bottle.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I mean, it’s just a terrible way to go, being murdered. These older people are so frail, with limited contact from family and friends. It’s pretty sad.”

  “Absolutely. I was home the other day when I’d heard about the second person. Gossip’s been spreading through the community like wildfire. People are frightened, and I can’t blame them. Do you remember where you were?”