Protected by the Damned BoxedSet 2

by Michael Todd

Slave to many stories,

  Laurie Starkey

  Excerpt from my not-yet-named Cozy Mystery:

  (Forgive the editing mistakes. We don’t edit until we’re all done in my camp)

  “I’m not sure why we torture ourselves week in and week out.” Velma glanced at her sister-in-law, and Ethel let out a tight sigh. “We don’t need a damn hobby. We’ve done all we should have! Our race is over. Give it a rest.”

  Without missing a beat, Ethel reached up and tuned the radio to some church music. “You obviously need a little Jesus in your day.”

  “Not this again.” Ethel turned and let her eyes scan the mounds of bluebonnets they were driving by.

  “You like to crochet. I know you do.” Ethel was cut off by the car jerking. “You pretend with everyone else that you hate crafts, but you’ve been doing them for the better part of fifty years.”

  “It’s better than killing folks and drinking myself into an early grave.” Velma gripped the armrest on the door as the car lurched again. “When are you taking this piece of shit into the shop? If we got stuck on the side of the road, we’d end up having to walk a mile to get to the nearest station. That’d take all damn day with you and that bum hip you got.”

  “If we made it to the station,” Ethel murmured under her breath, and pressed her foot to the gas. “You know these country people. We might end up in someone’s supper.”

  Velma croaked out a laugh. “Someone’s supper? Like in their stew?”

  “Too hot for stew right now.” Ethel reached over to play around with the air conditioner, only to get blasted in the face with hot air. “Jiminy Crickets.”

  Velma rolled down the window and shook her head. “No one is going to eat us.” She glanced down and smirked. “Well, they might eat me cause I’m good eatin’, but you? Not a chance.”

  “I’m ignoring that.” Ethel turned the wheel and forced herself not to smile. They’d lived together for twenty-six years—since Alfred died—so she was more than used to Velma’s quipping. She quite preferred it. Kept things interesting.

  “Those two yellow lines are there for a reason.” Velma unbuckled as the car stopped and turned toward Ethel, lifting an eyebrow for good measure. “Not worried about those buggers?”

  “No clue what a bugger is.” Ethel got out of the car, taking her time. The bum hip was no joke, especially when the Texas humidity hit in full force. “And don’t be complaining about crochet class to me. You know it’s all we have, other than each other. We’re biding our time until we meet Jesus.”

  “And then the real party starts.” Velma’s gravelly voice carried over the car.

  Ester let out a soft laugh, straightened her new frilly shirt, and moved to the back of the car to grab their stuff. “Come get your bag.”

  “Promise me that no matter what, you’re not going to hate me today.” Velma walked toward the trunk and waggled her eyebrows.

  “Oh dear Lord. What did you do?” Ethel opened the trunk, pulled out both bags and handed Velma hers. Ethel’s pink bag had crocheted flowers all over it; the little things were a pain in the ever-loving rear to get done.

  Velma’s was plain and black. “Like my soul,” she’d muttered the last time Ethel had brought it up.

  “I did what I was told to do.” Velma took the bag, turned slowly, and walked toward the long strip center in front of them. “Just giving you a fair warning because we’ve been friends so long.”

  “Well, thank you…I think.” Ethel moved up beside Velma, noticing that her friend had slowed down a little to wait on her. It was the little things in life that kept Ethel’s spirits up. It had been a lonely life since Alfred had passed, but they were making do. Ethel knew that Velma missed her brother, but she never said a word. Typical Velma.

  “I do miss the good old days. Teaching was a pain in my big jiggly ass, but it was something to do.” Velma reached out and pulled open the door to the crochet class. “Now I spend my time tangled up in yarn and avoiding horny mailmen.”

  “Velma! Mr. Wallace is a nice guy. He’s not…” Ethel struggled to say the word.

  “Horny?” Velma asked as they walked in.

  The pretty girl that instructed the class spat her coffee halfway across the room. “Ladies. Good to see you again!”

  Velma snorted as Ethel gave her a stern look. “Please don’t embarrass us today.”

  “I already did, apparently.” Velma tugged her bag up on her shoulder and made her way across the room. A few familiar faces smiled her way, but she ignored them and plopped down in a chair just big enough for her. No need to make room for anyone else. Then she’d have to talk. Mingle. She shivered at the thought.

  “Sorry about that.” Ethel smiled at Nicole and reached out to cup the young woman’s shoulder. “I love this shawl you’re wearing. Did you make it yourself?”

  Nicole glanced down and nodded. “I sure did. It’s called the ‘corner-to-corner’ pattern. I’m thinking you probably know this one though, right, Ms. Ethel?” Her blue eyes rested on Ethel’s face, and the warmth in her small smile made Ethel’s lips lift too. The young woman was a joy, and kept the class laughing and fun.

  “I remember trying to do this one as a girl, but it never turned out.” Ethel released her and stepped back. “Where’s Ray? He out today?”

  “Right here, darlin.” Raymond Wetzel had been the hit of the high school in his younger days, but the poor old fellow thought he was still eighteen. “You need some Ray play?”

  Nicole’s eyes widened and she clapped her hands. “Okay, class. On that note, let’s get started. We have a lot to do today.”

  Ethel spun on her heel and shook her head. “You better behave, Mister. Jesus is watching you.”

  “He can take a few notes from this book.” Ray tugged at his button-down shirt and bounced on the balls of his feet. The old guy had way too much vigor for his age.

  “Blasphemy.” Ethel let out a sigh, moved around him, and walked toward Velma. “Did you really sit in that single chair instead of the couch we usually share?”

  “Yes,” Velma barked. “Something’s in the damn air around here. First ol’ Calvin Wallace trying to strike up a conversation, and now Ray’s swinging his—”

  “Velma! Jeeze Louise!” Ethel took the seat next to her and pulled her bag into her lap. “Just don’t talk unless someone talks to you.”

  “This seat taken?” Ray waggled his eyebrows and pointed to the seat on the other side of Velma.

  “Yes, you gigolo.” Velma dropped her bag into the chair and smirked. “Go spread your herpes somewhere else.”

  “Always feisty, Vel.” He winked and turned his attention to Ethel. “You, on the other hand, are still just as pretty as you were the day we all graduated high school.”

  Ethel blushed. “Stop it, Ray. Go sit down somewhere. Nicole is trying to start the class.”

  Velma rolled her eyes, grabbed the walking stick that lay on the floor beside her, and whacked him in the knee with it. “Get on, now! Like a rabid dog.”

  “Damn, Velma. Why are you so violent, baby?” Ray tugged the stick from her hands.

  “Mr. Wetzel? Time to find a chair, please. We’re going to get started on a new pattern here shortly.” Nicole’s sweet voice caused all three of them to stop.

  “No problem, sugar plum.” Ray glanced over his shoulder and winked at the young woman before giving Ethel a wink and Velma an eyebrow waggle. Silly biddies knew they all liked him. Well, there was enough to go around, for sure.

  Velma grabbed the walking stick and shook it at him. “Get on down the road, Herp.”

  He chuckled and found a chair a little ways down.

  “You know, you don’t have to be so darned mean, Velma.” Ethel took the stick from her and handed it to Nicole, who offered a hand to take it. “He’s lonely like the rest of us.”

  “I’m not lonely, and he’s hitting on everything that’s got boobs in here.” Velma reached over and grabbed her bag. “It ain’t right, and you know
it.”

  Ethel huffed and pulled out the blue and yellow bubble-pattern blanket she’d been working on. It reminded her of sunshine and freedom, because it was beautiful and bright.

  “We’re not dead yet, and I for one want to keep on living until I die.” Ethel snorted and turned her attention to Nicole. She’d had more than enough of everyone. Slipping into the warmth of crafting was her great escape, and she did it as often as possible.

  “All right, everyone.” Nicole knelt in front of the half-circle of crocheters and pulled out a green blanket, then stood and lifted it. “This is what I did for my bubble pattern this last month. I know we were all working here and at home on our projects, but today is the day we’re wrapping up this pattern and learning a new one. Anyone else want to share what they did?”

  Crickets.

  “Anyone?” Nicole looked around, hopeful. How people could be shy in their seventies was beyond her, but maybe it was a trait for all ages? Yes, that was definitely it.

  “Oh, all right. I’ll share.” Ethel pulled the rest of her blanket out as her hands shook. “I made this one because it reminds me of my mother’s kitchen when I was a girl. Daddy died when I was young and never got to live in the house, so after his passing my momma went into the new house and redecorated all of it. I think she did it to really figure out who she was without him. It was part of the healing process.”

  Ethel’s eyes filled with tears. She reached up and brushed them away. The sniffles around the room surprised her.

  “It’s beautiful,” Velma’s voice was soft and her grip warm on Ethel’s forearm. “She would have loved it.”

  “It is gorgeous, Ms. Ethel. Mind if I show everyone?” Nicole walked toward it and extended her hands. Her eyes were filled with tears.

  “Sure, of course.” Ethel handed it over and scooted her butt back in the chair, her back stiff. Everyone seemed to be having a moment over her confession, but that was all right. Life was precious, and remembering that was enough to take someone back a little.

  “Crocheting isn’t just about yarning over and picking your colors and making something beautiful.” Nicole paused as she lifted the blanket up for everyone to see. “It’s about finding yourself. Remembering and honoring, and like Ms. Ethel said—healing.”

  The group clapped, filling Ethel with a sense of pride.

  “I love it. You did a great job.” Nicole handed Ethel the blanket back. “Who else wants to share?”

  “Velma?” Ethel glanced at her. “I know you’ve been working on something in that pretty gold yarn every night. You want to show it to us?”

  “Nope.” Velma released Ethel’s arm and pulled her bag close to her, hugging it like it was full of hundred-dollar bills.

  “What? Why?” Ethel shifted in her chair a little.

  “That’s all right. Someone else, maybe?” Nicole turned to the rest of the group.

  One by one, each person shared their blankets, bonnets, and shawls in the bubble pattern Nicole had taught them a month earlier. Ray’s half-done baby blanket caused everyone to chuckle, but the old man seemed to enjoy the laughter more than the praise everyone else was after.

  “Velma? Last chance.” Nicole smiled and put her hands on her hips. “You know you’re the best crafter in here. Whether you like it or not, your attention to detail is just fantastic.”

  “Velma. Show the woman what you did with her teaching. Good grief and gravy.” Ethel sighed and tugged at Velma’s bag.

  “All right. Dammit to hell.” She tugged the bag back and rolled her eyes. “Promise not to hate me?”

  Ethel’s stomach tightened. “Oh Lord. Maybe it’s better if you don’t—”

  “I made something practical. I have twenty damn blankets around the house, and if none of y’all have noticed, it’s hotter than Satan’s crotch here. We live in Texas. Ain’t nobody in their right mind wrapping up in a blanket.” Velma pulled out the item she’d been working on and held it up. “I’m sending these to my cousin Belinda up in Maine. I’m pretty sure she needs them more than I do.”

  Nicole pressed her hand to her mouth as her eyes widened. Surely not.

  “Are those panties?” Ray’s voice was pitched higher than usual.

  “Damn straight, and I made them big enough to fit over Belinda’s Depends. She ain’t young like us.” Velma winked at Ethel. “You think she’ll like them?”

  “You’re going to hell,” Ethel whispered before cracking up.

  “And on that note,” Nicole whispered roughly, “get out your needles and some new yarn. We’re learning a new pattern today, which is the one I used on my shawl. It’s called ‘corner-to-corner.’”

  Hope you enjoyed it. Appreciate you beyond what you can understand.

  Laurie aka Lulu Baxter for the project above.

  Metal Up Your Ass

  Metal Up Your Ass

  Chapter One

  It had been a month and a half since Stephanie and Katie had brought the idea of hunting unsuspecting demon assholes to Korbin’s attention.

  After the first one he was sold, though he still had his concerns.

  The two girls had spent the majority of their time on this task, finding the demons and eliminating them where they could. They definitely had started to see a change in the way the rich were doing business, and politicians were up in arms. The word was out that these demons were being hunted, and they did not like that in the least.

  Stephanie looked at the Golden Gate bridge as she and Katie walked along.

  She loved San Francisco, even with its damned hills and constant fog. Katie could take it or leave it, and was only there for the mission: to take out a possessed California senator. He was more than just pocketing contributions. He was running the Senate like a personal bank.

  He squashed his competition in every way, mostly because Big Business padded his pockets and pushed him to introduce bills that served only his interests. He was a scoundrel and a piece of shit, and he needed to be taken care of.

  “So, after this you wanna go to Fisherman’s Wharf?” Stephanie asked. “I understand they have great food… Hold up.” She put an arm out. “We are here.”

  Katie peeked around the corner to find two tall, muscular bodyguards, their scowls letting her know exactly what they were out there for. They were both strapped, earpieces in their ears, and sunglasses on, even though it was night time. Katie turned back to Stephanie and nodded, then straightened her shirt and fluffed her hair. They turned the corner and sauntered up to the men.

  “Ladies?” one of them growled, not breaking character.

  “Possessed?” Stephanie asked, looking at Katie.

  “Yep,” Pandora replied.

  “We have confirmation,” Katie replied.

  “Aw, what a shame,” Stephanie said, lifting her arm. “They are such handsome fellas.”

  She hit the first guy right in the nose, knocking his glasses to the ground. He grabbed his face as the blood flowed and glared at her with the red rings in his eyes shining brightly. He lunged toward Stephanie and the two rolled across the ground as they battled it out.

  Katie looked at the other guard and smiled before baring her teeth and leaping onto his chest. She dug her knees in and swiped at his face, but she couldn’t hang on and before long he had the upper hand. He threw her to the ground and pulled his gun. Katie swiped her leg up to knock the piece from his hand.

  A little help here? Katie huffed as she asked for Pandora’s assistance.

  I might not always be here. Pandora yawned. You need to learn to protect yourself.

  “OUCH, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” Katie screamed, reaching up to her head.

  The guard had grabbed Katie by the hair and lifted her to her feet.

  Katie threw a punch, but it barely fazed the guy. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

  She finally yanked out her knife and sliced his hand, forcing him to let her go. He hissed and moaned, holding his hand tightly as he glared at Katie with red eyes. She smiled and punch
ed him in the nose as hard as she could.

  He looked at her for a moment in confusion, then his eyes rolled straight back in his head and he fell to the ground with a thud. Katie bent over him as Pandora pulled the demon from his chest and sent it back to hell.

  You’re just mad at me because I wouldn’t get the second dozen DONUTS, bitch. Katie wiped her bloody hands on the bodyguard’s jacket and glanced at Stephanie, who was punching the other guard in the face as she straddled him.

  The guy grabbed her wrist and slowly sat up with Stephanie in his lap, then flipped her over and held her down, growling and hissing. Katie shook her head and ripped a fence post out of the cement.

  “You didn’t even take the lady out for lunch,” Katie bitched, shaking her head. “Where are your manners, asshole?”

  She swung the metal rod hard at his head and he fell on top of Stephanie, unconscious. She struggled to roll him off her, breathing heavily.

  “Thanks,” Stephanie said, watching as Katie pulled the demon from his body and dissolved it. “He wouldn’t have been a fun date at all.”

  “I just hope the Senator hasn’t run out the back door by now.” Katie frowned and helped Stephanie to her feet. “That would be a waste.”

  The two crept to the door and slowly opened it, pausing when they heard a man singing. Stephanie grimaced and raised her eyebrows at Katie.

  “Is that Queen?” Stephanie whispered.

  Katie shrugged and continued into the house, following the singing to a room where the senator was obviously taking some “me time.” He had cucumbers over his eyes, a strange orange facial mask which was mostly dry, and Bose headphones pumping Queen into his skull.

  Katie scratched her cheek and looked at Stephanie, who shrugged.

  The girls flanked him and smiled.

  “I wonder if he is imagining himself onstage right now?” Stephanie giggled, looking down at the senator. “That combover just flappin’ in the breeze, makeup covering his face, tight leather pants with his belly hanging over the edge. You know, the real sexy stuff.”