“Probably more than you think. Motorcycles—big business. People are very fussy about their machines.”
“And you fix ’em, huh?”
“I’ve been fooling around with bikes for about…gee, I guess sixteen years or more. Since I was just a kid.” He frowned as he watched her lift her coffee cup to her lips. “Looks like you might’ve hurt yourself there.”
She put the cup down and looked at the back of her hand. One of her knuckles was bluish and puffy. She smiled sheepishly. “I socked him in the face. I think I got his eye.”
“Good for you.” He smiled.
“Listen, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’d like to get out of here now.”
“Sure,” he said, reaching for his back pocket and pulling out his wallet.
“No, let me get the coffee,” she said, her hand in her purse. “It’s the least I can do….”
“Taken care of,” he said, cutting her off. “I’ll just get you to your car—”
“Um, please don’t take offense, but I think I’d almost feel safer alone.”
“I get that,” he said. “But, hey, I know the owner here. Want me to ask one of the managers or bartenders to walk you out? Just to make you more comfortable?”
“No. Really. But thanks for everything.” She scooted out of the booth.
“Cassie,” he said, picking up his card from the table and pointing it at her. “In case you change your mind about the police. Or just in case he gives you some trouble and you need a little help, or want a witness to back you up. Huh?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I just forgot.”
“Not a problem. Be careful now.”
She gave him a wan smile and walked out of the bar. She was barely outside when the darkness and the silence just freaked her out. She turned around, went right back to his booth and said, “Um, sorry, could you please take me out to my car? It got really… It just got so quiet out there.”
“Sure. Be glad to. You have a cell phone?”
“I do,” she said, nodding.
“Okay, you’ll be fine.” He slid out of the booth and cupped his hand under her elbow, escorting her out in a very chivalrous manner. “You’re just going to lock the car doors, get your cell phone handy, watch the rearview mirror. But I guarantee you, he’s going to leave you alone. I mean, come on—he left you with me.” And then he chuckled. “And remember, Cassie, I know the plate number.”
“You didn’t write it down or anything….”
“XKY936, teal-blue Tahoe,” he said. “I think it might be good to go see a friend, talk it out, be around people where you feel safe. But really, your bad date—he’s going to pretend none of that ever happened. Just the same, if he calls you or drops by, no excuses. Call the police first. Then call me—I’ll tell them everything.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
“You’d do the same thing,” he said. They arrived at her car and she used the remote to unlock it. He held the door for her. “You’re still a little upset, so drive carefully.”
“Yes,” she said. “Thank you.”
Cassie drove straight to Julie’s house. She and Jules had been best friends since seventh grade. But while Julie married at nineteen and started her family, Cassie was still single at twenty-nine. Julie and Billy had been together since their junior year in high school. They were like a Lifetime movie—the star quarterback and the head cheerleader. The perfect couple. They were scrapping a little these days, but they’d get it together, as usual. After all, they had three kids and a dog—a lot to bicker about.
What Cassie would give to have a guy like Billy in her life. She didn’t have a crush on him; he’d become like a brother because Julie was like her sister. But still…
She could hear the chaos in the house when she rang the bell. It was only eight-thirty; Julie would be right in the midst of trying to round up the kids and get them to bed. Julie opened the door with a mother-shout over her shoulder to Get in that tub! Then she looked at Cassie. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “Didn’t you have a big date?”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course! You didn’t get stood up, did you?”
“No. Very bad attempt at a date,” Cassie said, stepping into the foyer. The place was suffering that end-of-a-day wreck, as was Julie. Her blond hair had gone limp and was flopping in her eyes, she was braless in a T-shirt, shorts, her bare feet dirty, her face with no makeup. And behind her, chasing each other through the family room and kitchen, were a naked three-and four-year-old with a barking German shepherd in pursuit.
When the kids saw her, they yelled, “Cassie!” and ran to her. She stood in the entranceway with one nude child hanging on each leg.
But Julie just stared at Cassie. “What happened?” she asked.
Cassie said, “I’m going to help myself to a glass of wine, if you still have some. Then I’ll tell you all about it.” She shrugged and her eyes welled up. “I don’t feel like going home right now.” She sniffed back the tears and said, “Go. There are naked children running wild all over the house.” Cassie bent down and kissed the top of each little head.
“The bottle you left a week ago is still in the fridge,” she said, running a hand through her lank hair. “You don’t look so good.”
“I’ll be fine.” The kids broke free and ran off, followed by their mother. Cassie threw her purse onto a chair and headed for the kitchen. Then she turned back and flipped the dead bolt on the front door.
In the kitchen she found a wineglass and poured herself some cold white from the refrigerator; she’d gotten in the habit of bringing a big jug of wine over when she came. Julie and Billy were on a tight budget and didn’t splurge on extras—even the kind that could give you a shot of relaxation at the end of a long day, with a husband working two jobs and a wife managing three kids almost entirely alone.
Cassie went into the family room and sat down on the sofa, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet up on the coffee table. Within what seemed like seconds, Jeffy came into the room. He was nine. He went right to the couch and sat so close to Cassie, he was almost on top of her.
“Wanna see what I’m doing?” he asked, balancing a small laptop computer on his lap. Cassie remembered—this was an old laptop handed down by Julie’s brother.
“You bet. Whatcha got here?”
“I’m making skyscrapers. See? You can get between them with ships and catwalks.”
“You’re a genius,” she said. “Where’d you get your brains? You get them from me? Nah, I’m just the auntie. Jeff, this is so cool.” She ruffled his dark hair, kissed his temple. “You have your bath?”
“Not till after them,” he said. “Look, I can make ’em fly.” He maneuvered some keys, clicking away, and sure enough the small airships moved between tall buildings.
“Can I try that?” Cassie asked.
He showed her how and they entertained themselves for about twenty minutes before Julie reappeared. Now she was water splashed and even more wilted. Billy was at his second job. He was a paramedic for the fire department and, on off days, worked in a builder’s shop cutting wood for cabinets and everything from marble to granite for countertops. Firefighters worked twenty-four-hour shifts, during which they didn’t get much sleep. He’d get home at eight in the morning, grab a nap, go to the shop for a few hours, then go back to the fire department for another twenty-four the next morning. After three twenty-four-hour shifts in six days, Billy would get four days off in a row from F.D. and those were the best days—he only worked one job, at the shop. The best thing about his second job was he could make his own hours, as long as he got the work done. And he put in a lot of hours; money was real tight. Usually Julie would be coming to the end of her rope after days of managing on her own, as she clearly was at the moment.
Julie pulled the small computer out of Jeff’s hands. “Can you get your bath before you do any more virtual building or flying?”
“Yeah, ok
ay.”
“Can you pick up your dirty clothes and throw them in the hamper?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Then they disappeared, leaving Cassie alone.
When Cassie and Julie spotted each other the first day of seventh grade, it was an instant bond. Tall, thin, blond Julie and short, round, dark-haired Cassie—they were an odd-looking pair. A couple of years later Cassie’s stepdad was transferred from California to Des Moines and Cassie couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her friends, her school. Plus, Cassie’s mom had married Frank when Cassie was eight and they’d proceeded to have two babies and had a third on the way. Cassie couldn’t put it into words at the time, but she didn’t really feel like a part of their family. It had gone from Cassie and Francine alone to Frank and Francine and the kids, and Cassie as babysitter and guest.
Some begging and negotiating evolved into Cassie moving into Julie’s house, right into her crowded little bedroom, sharing a regular-size double bed. Their parents didn’t think it would last long; they assumed they’d start to fight like sisters or Cassie would miss her mom and the little half sibs too much and want to move back. Neither happened; Cassie and Julie were best friends and roommates all through high school.
Cassie got her first job at fifteen, paying her way so she wouldn’t have to rely on help from her mom and stepdad or put a strain on Julie’s folks when she needed essentials like underwear or school supplies. She supported herself but for room and board. At graduation Julie’s mom handed her a check; she’d saved every penny of support Cassie’s stepdad had sent, from the piddling fifty dollars to the rare two or three hundred. “If you decide to use this for college, you can stay here rent free as long as you’re in school. If you do something else with this, we’ll work out a reasonable rent for you.”
It was an unexpected opportunity for Cassie; her mom and stepdad didn’t have a cent to spare. Birthday and Christmas presents had always come in the form of plane tickets to visit the family. So she went to college, studied nursing and got her R.N. degree, working while she went to school to support herself.
Julie went to college, too, but didn’t make it through a whole year. She got pregnant, dropped out and married Billy, the love of her life. When Jules and Billy got their first little apartment, Cassie stayed on at Julie’s parents’ house, finished college and landed her first job in emergency room nursing.
And then Cassie’s mother died. That left Frank with three kids to support on his own. The plane tickets stopped coming; they were replaced with gift cards from Starbucks or Borders.
When Cassie was twenty-five, she managed to buy her little house, not coincidentally real close to Julie and Billy’s. And she got Steve, her Weimaraner.
She briefly considered going back to the house to pick up Steve and ask Jules if she could sleep on the couch tonight, but quickly decided she’d brave going home, after a glass of wine and a little decompression time. She’d never leave Steve alone all night—he was such a baby. Right now she wished she’d taught him to bark and snarl menacingly, just in case she ever needed him to be protective. But he was so sweet just the way he was.
It was a long time before Julie finished with the kids, getting everyone settled, though it was obvious she’d hurried through bedtime rituals. Instead of picking up the house, she passed Cassie and went immediately to the kitchen, pouring herself an apple juice in a wineglass. She brought the bottle of chardonnay to Cassie, offering to top off her glass. Then she plopped herself on the other end of the couch, with her legs tucked under her, facing Cassie.
“Tell me what happened,” Julie said. “You’re actually a little pale.”
“You won’t believe it. I don’t believe it. He attacked me—right in the car, right in the parking lot of the bar where I met him for our date.” Julie gasped and covered her open mouth with a hand. “It was bizarre. Otherworldly. It took me by such surprise, for a minute I couldn’t even move, couldn’t even push or yell.” She went through the details, right up to the breaking of the window and the cup of coffee with Walt, her friendly neighborhood thug.
“He climbed over the console?” Julie asked.
“Yeah. That threw me, but I realized later, there was an awful lot of room in that front seat. He had both bucket seats back as far as they’d go. And where he parked—real far away from most of the cars—he must have done that deliberately before we met for the evening.” She shook her head with a short, unamused laugh. “I remember thinking he was worried about dents and scratches. But no—he planned it. He was prepared to take matters into his own hands if I insisted on going to the concert.”
“God! You must have been terrified! How did that biker guy know you were in trouble?”
“He said he heard me, that the car was rocking. I was fighting so hard, it made the car wobble.” She showed Julie her knuckles. “I don’t know if I got this from banging on the window or punching him in the face.”
“Holy shit, Cassie. You think about calling the police?”
“I thought about it, yeah. Thing is, I’ve run rape kits on victims for detectives, and even when they’re banged up, torn apart and hysterical, the police can hardly make a case. What am I going to say? A guy I accepted a date with—who I let kiss me in the parking lot and again in the car—held me down while he kissed me? He never hit me, never got to my clothes, never unbuttoned his pants…. The fact that we both knew what he was going to do will be completely irrelevant.”
“But you’ve got that guy—”
“Yeah, Walt. He called it assault. It was an assault, but it only got as far as an attempt.” She shrugged. “Although it still scared me half to death.”
They heard the sound of the garage door opening and Julie threw an unmistakable look of disgust over her shoulder toward the door. Billy came in, wearing his jeans and T-shirt covered with sawdust, putting his tool belt on the washer in the laundry room, which connected the garage to the kitchen. He looked pretty wiped.
“You’re early,” Julie said.
“I finished up. I could’ve found a little more to do, but I thought maybe you could use some help.”
She laughed. “And what the hell kind of help were you going to give me after the kids are already in bed?”
“Jesus, I don’t know, Jules—want me to paint the house or sand the floors?”
Cassie put her fingers against her temples and rubbed. “God. Do you two have to do this right now?”
“You’re a witness, Cass. You can see all I did was walk in the goddamn door!”
“After nine at night, to help!” Julie said.
“Okay, I’m going home to Steve,” Cassie said, starting to get up.
“No,” Julie said, grabbing her hand. “No, you’re absolutely right. We’ll stop. Besides, you need to tell Billy what happened.”
“Why?” she said wearily, sinking into her place on the couch.
“Because the guy said he was a paramedic, Cassie,” Julie said.
“Who said he was a paramedic?” Billy asked. He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and brought it into the family room. He sat down on the coffee table and faced Cassie. “Something wrong?”
Cassie went through the story again. Billy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, holding his beer with both hands, and several times he just looked at the floor. He ignored his beer till the end of the story. Then he took a long drink out of the can.
“The only thing I’d really like to know,” Cassie added, “and there’s no way to find out, not even by going to the police, is if he’s attacked other women. I don’t know if I drew the wild card or if he’s a chronically dangerous guy.”
“Maybe you can’t find that out, but we can check if he’s a paramedic,” Billy said, getting to his feet. “If he’s even with the fire department. I’ll tell you what, if he’s a firefighter and he’s doing this to women, he’s going to be sorry.”
“I have a feeling if you make him sorry, I could pay the price.”
“But, Cass, I gotta k
now. We have some bad apples sometimes, but I never heard anything like that before.”
“It’s not like you introduced us,” she said. “It has nothing to do with you.”
“I feel like it has everything to do with me. I don’t love everyone in the department, but it kills me to think one of our boys would do something like that to a woman. Kills me. I’m going to find out right away.”
Billy insisted on following Cassie home—the whole two miles—and coming inside with her to be sure everything was secure. While Billy busied himself doing the man thing of checking windows, locks, et cetera, Cassie was on her knees loving on Steve, kissing and being kissed. It’s not as though she’d been gone long; she’d had the day off and had only left him a few hours ago for a date that should have worked out, should’ve been late and fun. It was just after ten-thirty and Steve had been fine, curled up on the couch on his special blanket with several of his babies—small stuffed toys that he carried around with him like a cat carries kittens.
When Billy was getting ready to leave he asked, “How are you feeling, Cass?”
“A little edgy, but mostly disappointed. Very disappointed.”
“Are you scared?”
“I admit, I’m a little shook up, but the whole incident was over in five minutes or less. And I have good locks, a phone with a backup cell phone and we know Steve’s a killer. Really, I’m so disappointed with the way things turn out most of the time. You and Jules—I know you’ve been fighting lately, but you just don’t know how rotten it is to be looking, waiting, hoping to find the right person….”
“Lotta people love you, Cassie.”
She smiled. “Thanks,” she said. Not exactly the kind of love she was hoping for, but nice.
He shook his head and looked away. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Jules,” he said. “I can’t do anything right. I have no idea what’s eating her.”
Cassie had some ideas. Three kids, tight budget, hard work, absent husband. But it wasn’t her place to get into their squabbles. They’d work them out, as always. “Maybe you should ask her” was all she said.