Embrace the Grim Reaper (21 page)

How she wished she could have those minutes back. Those night interruptions, that exhaustion that comes from raising an active child.

“Okay, I’m going upstairs.”

Casey paused just outside the door of the kitchen to see if she would be followed by Death. Instead, Death stood beside Rosemary at the sink, towel in hand. Casey left, slogging up the stairs, her brain fuzzy. Solomon the cat was nowhere in sight this time, and Casey couldn’t blame him. Death wasn’t exactly hiding at the moment.

Casey went into her room, took off her shoes, and lay down on the bed. She was awakened sometime later by a weight by her feet. She raised her head.

“Well,” Death said. “I’ve been officially unwelcomed.”

“Huh?” Casey rubbed her eyes.

“Rosemary said that while she’s not afraid of me, she doesn’t want me hanging around.”

“And you listened?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“But not with her.”

Death lay across the foot of the bed. “I figured I’d come back up here. She won’t know.”

“Haven’t I been unwelcoming? Why don’t you listen to me?”

Death leaned on an elbow. “You don’t really want me to go away.”

“Yes. I do.”

“No. You want me to go away and take you with me. That’s the difference between you and Rosemary.”

Casey laid an arm over her eyes. “Who did you steal from Rosemary?”

“I’m not a thief. But it was her husband, of course, that I took. Remember? She’s a widow?”

“How?”

“Hiking accident.”

“Hiking?” Casey lifted her arm from her face.

“Oh, yes. Rosemary and her husband were quite the outdoor adventurers. I know, you wouldn’t think it to look at her now, but at one time she was quite the explorer.”

“What happened?”

“They were camping. Hiking a trail along the Appalachians. A place they’d never been. He went off in the twilight to gather kindling, and never came back. Rosemary went to look for him and discovered him at the bottom of a ravine. The way he’d fallen had broken his neck. He was dead when she found him.”

“But that’s awful!”

“Rosemary took it well. Said it was a better death than lots of other things. At least it was quick.”

Burning up in an exploding vehicle was quick.

Casey scooted up, leaning her back against the headboard and wrapping her arms around her knees, studying this…this entity who had become her most constant companion.

It had been in one of the boardrooms that she’d first seen Death. Casey had thought an extra lawyer had joined the team. Hers or Pegasus’, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that an extra chair sat at the table. It only took a few minutes, however, to realize that this lawyer wasn’t on any team, but spent every second sitting back in the chair, fingers steepled, staring at Casey with…was that amusement?

At the first break, Casey had confronted the new lawyer, who stood alone, leaning against the stair railing in the foyer. How dare someone laugh in the face of her pain?

Death only smiled, leaning closer until Casey breathed in…and she knew.

In fact, she was ecstatic, holding out her arms to receive Death’s embrace. Only that’s not what Death had in mind. Ricky had come to her then, concern etched into his face as he stood in exactly the spot where Death had been a moment before. She’d searched wildly around the hallway, but Death had disappeared, leaving her too emotionally distraught to continue with the day’s proceedings. Neither team of lawyers had been happy about that.

“What?” Death said now, seeing Casey’s face. “What did I do?”

Casey shook her head, disgusted with herself, with Death, with everything. “Nothing. You did absolutely nothing.” She jumped off the bed and grabbed her jacket, heading out the door. “And you’ll continue to do nothing, you worthless piece of…of…dark matter.” She slammed the door on Death’s surprise, and went downstairs.

Chapter Thirty-six

Casey headed directly out the front door, avoiding any conversation with either Rosemary or Lillian, and took off down the sidewalk. No bike this time. She needed to get back on her feet.

Her feet took her to the door of the bank, apparently with the idea of confronting Todd at his workplace.

It was closed.

She studied the lobby hours printed on the glass, seeing that they’d closed already at noon, this being a Saturday. Shoving down her frustration, she changed direction and strode down to the corner, entering Wayne’s Pharmacy.

Becca was behind the counter, wrapping what looked like a birthday present. A girl and her mother watched the process as Becca fashioned ribbons into a festive poof of curls. “Here you go, sweetie. Courtney will be very happy with her new tiger snake.”

The girl grinned, hugging the package to her chest, and left with her mother.

“Tiger Snake?” Casey asked. “For an eight-year-old?”

Becca laughed. “It’s a toy. You know, those stuffed animals you play with on-line?” At Casey’s blank expression, Becca waved away the subject. “You’re not here to talk about kiddie toys. What can I do for you?”

“Can you tell me how to find Todd?”

“Todd Nolan?”

“Are there other Todds?”

Becca swept ribbon cuttings from the counter into a trash can. “No. I just…he doesn’t exactly seem your type.”

“Becca, I’m not looking for a type. I’m looking for some answers.”

“About the play?”

“What? No. If I had those, I’d ask you or Eric. No, I have…banking questions.”

Becca regarded her with doubt. “Banking?”

“He is a banker.” It wasn’t a lie.

“True.”

“And the bank’s closed.”

“Yes, it would be.”

She slid her scissors into a drawer. “Okay. I’ll give you directions, but you’d better hope his daughter’s not there to see you.”

“Kristi?”

Becca blinked. “Yes. How did you know?”

“Met her at the diner.”

“Oh. Sure. Anyway, she’s not too keen on her dad right now, let alone women he might talk to.”

Casey looked around the store, but they were alone. “Ellen, right?”

Becca made a face. “I don’t know what it was about her. Eric, and Todd, too. At least Eric was free to do something about it.”

“I heard Todd was working at Home Sweet Home.”

Becca snorted. “If you want to call it working. From what I’ve heard he didn’t do a whole lot except get in Ellen’s way.”

“So it’s no wonder Kristi was unhappy. What about his wife?”

Becca shrugged. “Todd’s wife is…spacey, shall we say? I don’t think it would even occur to her to think about Todd being interested in someone else. It wouldn’t have occurred to most of us. He’s too lazy.” She gave a half smile.

“But Kristi?”

“She’s smart. And she could see exactly what was going on. In fact, she was the one who finally put a stop to the whole thing—whatever there was.”

“And that’s why he stopped helping at the soup kitchen?”

The door tinged, and Becca turned to welcome the customer, no one Casey recognized. She turned back to Casey. “From what I hear, Kristi gave him the whole get-it-together-or-I’m-telling-Mom speech. He quit that day. I don’t think he quite understood what he was getting himself into.”

Casey shook her head. “He can’t be dumb, if he’s a banker.”

“He’s not dumb. People just sometimes do dumb things.”

Casey shoved her hands in her pockets. Reuben hadn’t been dumb. In fact, he’d been one of the smartest men—the smartest people—she’d ever known. But everyone had secrets, and Reuben’s just happened to be bigger than most. An entire family, their lives sealed in a five-gallon bucket, kept from her because they wouldn’t accept his choice for his wife. She was an American. A white American. Who was far from Catholic.

They’d never met her. Hadn’t attended their wedding.

Had never met their grandson.

“So you still want directions?”

Casey snapped back to the present, to Becca’s question. “Yes. Please.”

With Becca’s easy-to-follow instructions, Casey left the store and turned toward the gas station, her first landmark.

Reuben’s family hadn’t come to the funeral. Casey wondered how long it had been before they even knew he was dead, along with his son. The items in his bucket were proof he’d been in touch with them. Had sent them pictures of Omar. Their letters had reflected their response. Their unwillingness to accept the gift of life from someone like Casey.

She passed the gas station, quiet now, only the front office open, the owner visible through the window. He looked up as she went past, sketching a wave. She raised her hand, then turned the corner, the opposite direction. A few more turns and she stood looking at a large two-story house, attractive, a two-car garage, one side open with a Suburban taking up the space.

No one was outside, so Casey went to the front door and rang the bell. When no one answered, she went back down the steps to the side entrance, beside the garage. She knocked.

Footsteps sounded inside, and Todd opened the door. He wore old jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, and was decorated with dust and a spiderweb, which draped over his left shoulder. “Casey?”

“Hi. I was wondering…” What? If he would tell her about HomeMaker’s finances? Why exactly he was furious with Karl Willems? If he’d killed Ellen Schneider because she didn’t love him? “Could we talk for a few minutes?”

He glanced behind him, down what appeared to be the basement steps. “I’ll be back in a minute, hon.”

An affirmative response floated up the stairs, and he gestured for Casey to follow him to the kitchen, where he filled a glass with water. “Want some?”

“No. Thanks. Can we go outside?”

He studied her, then gestured to the door. He followed her out, looking around for a place to go, and decided on the bumper of the Suburban. They leaned against the SUV.

“So you didn’t get out of basement cleaning, after all?” Casey said.

He grunted. “No such luck.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll get good behavior points for it.”

He laughed, but stopped abruptly. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing. Just, I’m sure your wife is glad to have your help.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, and drained his glass. “What is it you wanted to talk about, Casey?”

She stood and faced him. “You don’t get along with Karl Willems.”

He raised his eyebrows. “And that’s news?”

“I guess not. Most people don’t get along with him.” She considered her words. “What I’m wondering is, is that dislike business or personal?”

He stood up. “Look, Casey, I don’t know why you want to know, or, really, who you even are, so I’m not sure why we’re talking about this.”

“I know. It’s very presumptuous of me. But it’s important.”

“To whom? You? I can’t see how. Unless Thomas is right and you really are more than you appear to be.”

She let out a short laugh. “So he told you that, too? What is he afraid of?”

“You, apparently.”

She shook her head. “Are you, too?”

“I wasn’t. Not until you came here, asking questions.”

“I’m sorry.” She was. “But it’s just…I think Ellen’s family deserves to know.”

He went white, and glanced toward his house. “There’s nothing to know. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to.”

Casey held up a hand. “I don’t mean about you. I mean about…why she died.”

He looked down at his glass, and then up again, his eyes pained. “She killed herself. Do we really need to know more?”

“You really believe that? That she…committed suicide?”

He closed his eyes. “It’s what they say, isn’t it? The cops?”

“Yes. But do you think they’re right? Other people think they’re wrong.”

His eyes opened. “Look, Casey, I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’re asking these questions. I liked Ellen.” He glanced at the house. “She was kind, and smart, and…and real. But as for killing herself?” He shrugged. “She was a single mom without any hope for a good job here in Clymer. She was going to have to leave, get help, or…or something. I don’t know exactly why she did it. And I wish like hell she hadn’t. But I don’t know anything to say she didn’t.”

Casey turned away from the pain on his face. She could feel it radiating from him, like heat. “Todd, I don’t think she did.”

He didn’t move.

“In fact, I don’t think you do, either. Nobody who knew her well believes it.”

He waved his glass toward the sky. “So what are we supposed to do? I’m not a cop. Or a doctor.”

“No. But you know things. Things that could tell her story.”

“I don’t know anything.” He looked down at her. “Like what?”

“Like why you went storming into Karl’s office two weeks ago. And why you came storming back out.”

“What?”

“People saw you, Todd. Was it…did he threaten you? About Ellen?”

“About…” His face wrinkled in confusion, then cleared. “Do you mean…no. No. He had nothing to threaten me with. Nothing.”

“Really?”

“Look. I don’t know how to prove it to you. But it wasn’t a personal visit.”

“But you know which one I’m talking about?”

He set his glass on the bumper and rubbed his face hard with the heels of his hands. “I don’t go over to HomeMaker. Hardly ever. If they—he—needs something, he comes to the bank. To my office. But that time…” He looked at her. “I went to him.”

“About what?”

“Casey, I can’t tell you that. I’ll get fired.”

He would. Of course.

She stuck her hands in her back pockets and looked up at his house. He needed his job. He had three daughters. Property. A wife. “It wasn’t personal?”

“No. I swear.”

She studied his face. His eyes, piercing hers. “Okay.”

“Todd?”

He jumped, looking toward the house. “Coming, honey.”

His wife stood in the doorway, a rag in her hand, her clothes just as dirty as Todd’s, although her spider web was draped across her hair.

Todd gestured to Casey. “She’s in the play. Had a couple of questions.”

“Oh.” His wife smiled. “The new girl?”

“That’s me,” Casey said. “The new girl.”

“Wonderful. Todd, when you’re done talking there’s some old insulation that needs to be changed beside the furnace.”

He sighed heavily. “Coming, dear.”

With a wave of her rag, she disappeared back into the house.

“Well,” Casey said, “Thanks.”

He huffed. “For nothing.”

She shrugged. “Not entirely. See you at rehearsal?”

“I’ll be there.”

She walked out the lane, wondering what she actually had learned that could be of any importance.

“Casey?”

She turned.

“You want to help Ellen? Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

He looked at the driveway, then back up at her. “The reason I was at HomeMaker?”

“Yes?”

“Let’s just say it wasn’t personal on my part. And Ellen had nothing—absolutely nothing—to do with it.” He turned, and disappeared into his house.