“I want to stay informed, Stan. Which guard was it?”
“Philippe.”
Casey waited for Stan to say more, but he didn’t. Normally, he’d review an important assignment like this with her. If Stan thought he was doing her a favor by excluding her from things, he was wrong.
“I’d like to come back to light duties next week,” she said.
“Out of the question,” came his quick response. “Your priority is recovery.”
“But you must need the help.”
“Not that badly. Stay home and rest.”
“Working is healing for me, Stan.” Why didn’t he get that? “I won’t have to raise my left arm and I can still shift gears.”
“Casey, listen to me. It’s not just about what you can or cannot do,” Stan said. “It’s that I can’t approve a return to work without proper authorization. I haven’t seen any paperwork from you or your doctors yet.”
“Yeah, okay.” She sighed. “I’ll get the ball rolling.”
“It would help if you could write an incident report about what happened, but don’t come to work without medical clearance, understand? Lou mentioned that you’ll be seeing a neurologist and following up with the surgeon who fixed your shoulder.”
“That’s days away.” Maybe she could ask for an earlier appointment. “How long are you planning to keep graveyard surveillance going?”
“Dunno. I’ll have it figured out by Wednesday morning’s team meeting. Meanwhile, you take care of yourself.” Stan hung up.
Irritated by his abrupt dismissal, Casey plunked the phone on the coffee table. If she was to get back to work, she had to regain her strength. Slowly, she got to her feet. Shuffling past the sofa, she tried to ignore the swimming sensation in her head. If she stayed upright long enough, it would clear, wouldn’t it? She took more steps. Okay. Not so bad. The walls were wavering a little. No big deal. But then the battering ram pounded inside her skull. By the time she collapsed onto the cushioned seat in the bay window, sweat was running down her temples. Lou and Barb stepped into the apartment.
“What are you doing?” Lou asked, hurrying up to her.
Casey plastered on a smile. “Stretching my legs.” She turned to Barb, who gaped at her. “Is that my favorite cheesy tuna-noodle casserole?”
“It is.” She placed it on the kitchen table, then moved toward Casey. “Good heavens, there’s a greenish tinge beneath your bruises.”
“You should lie down,” Lou said.
Casey wished he wouldn’t tell her what to do. It was hard enough to have lost control over her wedding and her job, but to be told when to lie down was too damn much. She’d tell him so too, just as soon as the world stopped swirling around her.
“Whoa,” Lou said, taking her by the arm. “You’re swaying. How long have you been standing?”
Casey tried to remember, but her thoughts were scattering like rice paper in a windstorm. She was off-kilter, her limbs quivering. “Not long.”
Before she knew it, Barb had hold of her other arm and she and Lou were leading her back to the sofa. As Casey sat, her shoulder throbbed and the battering ram inside her head took another crack at her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut for just a moment.
“Looks like you’re having lunch. Maybe some food will help,” Barb said. “I’ll put this dish in the fridge.”
Lou handed Casey the lemonade. Afraid that she’d drop the glass, she held it with both hands and took a quick sip before putting it down.
“Lou and I found a ring almost identical to the one you lost,” Barb said. “It’s a perfect match for the wedding band.”
Lost? Was that how she saw it? Or was she just trying to be discreet? And why was her future mother-in-law helping choose the ring? Casey lacked the energy to respond with anything more than, “Good.”
“Want a beer, Mom?” Lou asked.
“You bet.”
Barb made herself comfortable in Lou’s old plaid chair while he headed for the kitchen. “My, it’s hot up here.” Barb fanned herself with the file folder she was carrying. “You two should invest in air conditioning.”
“Everyone’s sold out,” Lou replied from the kitchen.
“Don’t you find this apartment a bit cramped for two people? What about moving to a bigger place in the future? You could always rent out this suite and Rhonda’s bedroom. The money would pay for the upkeep.”
“This is Summer’s home,” Casey mumbled. “We need to stay.” Rhonda had begged her not to move until she was out of prison. Casey had agreed. Aside from all the upkeep, she really loved this big old house.
“What happens when you start a family?” Barb asked.
“Don’t worry about it.” Lou returned from the kitchen and handed his mother a glass of beer. “We’ll work it out.”
Barb shrugged. “I brought over a couple of things to finish up. It won’t take long.” She opened the folder. “I’m still undecided about which centerpiece to choose.”
As Barb recited the choices from a sheet of paper, Casey forgot them almost as soon as they were said. She wished she could just lie down and sleep.
“Wouldn’t it be cute if I crocheted tiny little buses and filled them with candies?” Barb asked.
For a wedding? Casey looked at Lou sitting beside her. “What do you think?”
“That we need to talk it over.” Lou didn’t look happy. “Mom, can you leave the sheet with us?”
“As long as I have a decision by the end of tomorrow,” she replied, turning to Casey. “By the way, I think a strapless gown would work well. Especially if you add a lacy shawl.”
Casey closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. Was it time for meds? Four hours must have passed by now. As she checked the time, she found herself leaning into Lou.
“Another headache?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” Despite her best efforts, her eyes were closing.
“Oh dear,” Barb said. “She looks like she’s going to pass out.”
“Can you help me to the bedroom?” she whispered to Lou.
“Sure.” Lou wrapped his arms around her and carefully lifted Casey off the sofa. Once she was on the bed, he closed the curtain. “I’ll get your meds.”
Casey stretched out slowly. Water ran in the bathroom. He needed to hurry. The pain was becoming unbearable. She wouldn’t be able to keep from moaning.
“Here ya go, hon,” Lou said.
“Thanks.” Casey’s hands shook as she took the glass and popped the pills in her mouth.
“I’m going to ask Mom to leave. Be right back.”
After Lou left the room, her tears flowed. The pain and frustration and helplessness were too much. Everything had unraveled. Casey could hear Barb and Lou talking about her but didn’t care. Their voices grew louder. Barb said father. More words, then a distinct no from Lou.
Casey wiped her eyes on the pillowcase. She tried to continue listening, but it took too much effort. The medication started to kick in and her pain eased a tiny bit. By the time Lou entered the room again, she was dozing off.
“Are the meds kicking in?”
“Mmm.” She kept her eyes closed. Felt him place his hand over hers.
“I know you don’t feel up to talking, but I need to ask you something important.”
“Mmm.”
He sat next to her. “Do you think we should postpone the wedding?”
Casey opened her eyes. His grim expression rattled her. “Do you?”
“It’s only six weeks away. You probably won’t be completely healed.”
“You don’t know that.” The thought of postponing their wedding horrified her. “We can’t let that maniac ruin our plans.”
“It’s not about him. It’s about what’s best for us. I want you to be a hundred percent when we say our vows.” Lou kissed the back of her hand. “Besides, you were right the other day when you said the wedding was getting out of hand. It doesn’t even feel like ours anymore.”
“Yeah.” Casey sighed. “W
as that why you were arguing with Barb?”
“Pretty much.”
“I heard her mention your father. What was that about?”
Lou let go of her hand. “It’s nothing. Get some sleep.”
More tears trickled down her cheeks. “Postponing the wedding is . . .” The words wouldn’t come.
“Heartbreaking, I know.” He stroked her arm. “There’ll be other opportunities, and we’ll stay in full control next time. It’ll be better, I promise.”
Casey let the tears fall. When she could speak, her voice was little more than a whisper. “I should have stayed on top of things. I’m so sorry.”
“We both dropped the ball, but shit happens, right?” He stood. “I’ll tell Mom that we’ve both decided to cancel the wedding.”
Was that true, though? Casey wiped her eyes. “She’ll be upset.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Better get this over with.” Lou headed for the door.
THIRTEEN
The moment Casey opened the conference room door, the room went silent. Every security team member gaped at her as if she was an alien. Honestly, what did they expect? The bruises on her face had inevitably turned a hideous yellow-green, and had they never seen a sling before?
“Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late.”
“Casey?” Stan leaned back in his chair, the creases on his brow multiplied. “What are you doing here?”
“I finished the reports you asked for. Thought I’d bring them in person.” Actually, Lou had filled out the injury documents for her. The incident report had taken her two days and many breaks to complete.
She strolled past Marie, who winked at her. “Good to see you, Casey.”
“You too.”
She smirked at the glaring Philippe, who’d taken his usual seat next to Stan. Anoop Verma and the other two part-timers smiled and warmly greeted her. Grateful for the welcome back, Casey took the chair at the far end of the table, determined not to flinch from the sharp twinges in her shoulder and ribs. Ten days had passed since her surgery. She’d been home less than a week and was already bored out of her mind. Casey had accepted that full-time shifts wouldn’t happen for a while. She tired easily and her concentration wasn’t great, but that was no reason to stay uninformed.
“How did you manage to drive with your arm in a sling?” Philippe asked.
“I took the bus.” Yesterday, she tried driving to the store, but the shoulder checks had been damn near impossible. “I heard on the news that there was another home invasion last night.”
“Which is really why you’re here,” Philippe remarked. “To get the scoop.”
Casey ignored him. “It’s been only seventeen days since Elsie Englehart’s attack, ten since Harold’s. Despite our presence, the gang’s stepping up their game.” She looked at Stan. “The question is why.”
“Marie was working graveyard last night,” Philippe said, “and trying to explain why she didn’t see anything.”
“No one can be on every street at once.” Stan fixed his stare on Philippe. “The gang’s in and out fast.”
“They always seem to be one step ahead of us and the cops,” Marie added.
Stan looked at the papers in front of him, his face even grimmer. The police must have talked to him about a leak by now. He wouldn’t have shared their suspicion with the team. But judging from the stare Marie was giving their supervisor, Casey wondered if she’d overheard something.
“VPD doesn’t want us on graveyard anymore,” Stan said. “Now that they’re also dealing with a homicide, they’ve put more people on this. So you’re back to riding with seniors during the day and early evening. I made a new schedule.”
Casey’s cellphone rang. Aware that Stan didn’t like phone interruptions, she turned the sound down and glanced at the screen. Monica Silver was calling. For a moment, she had no idea who this was, but then the image of an older, deeply tanned woman with a blonde beehive hairdo came to mind. Elsie’s friend and neighbor. Was this about the home invasions? Had something else happened?
Casey rose. “Excuse me.” As she stepped into the hallway, pain rippled through her body. “Hello?”
“Thank heaven I finally got hold of you!” Monica blurted. “This is Monica Silver, Elsie Englehart’s friend. We met a few days ago and you gave me your card. I read in the newspaper about what happened to you and nearly dropped dead from shock.”
Lou, friends, and colleagues had told Casey about the articles. She’d refused to read any of them. Thankfully, the police and Stan had insisted for safety reasons that her name not appear anywhere.
“How did you know the article was about me?”
“I tried your number but couldn’t get through. I had a terrible feeling something was wrong, so I called your employer. That’s when I learned you were on leave, so I put two and two together.”
“My phone was destroyed.” An image of a large boot stomping on the phone sprang forward. Casey shoved the thought back. “I just bought a new one yesterday.”
“Excellent. Where would we gals be without them? Anyway, what happened to you is simply awful,” she went on. “If a strong young woman like you can be beaten up in broad daylight, then what hope is there for the rest of us?”
An uncomfortable question. If Monica always paraded around with as much jewelry as she wore the day they met, then she should be worried.
“It’s important to stay vigilant,” Casey replied. “You should keep your jewelry in a safe-deposit box.”
“Yes, well, that strategy didn’t help poor Elsie. And who in their right mind would store their wedding rings in a bank?”
The woman was already tiresome. “I should go. I’m in the middle of a meeting.”
“Of course, but before you go, I wanted to know how you’re feeling.”
Useless. Weak. Frustrated. Bored. Instead, she said, “Better, thanks.”
“Excellent. There was a lovely celebration of life for Elsie a few days back. I’m sure you would have been there if you could.”
“Yes.” God. She should have realized there’d be a service.
“Did you hear about the latest dreadful invasion last night?” Monica asked.
Casey leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. “A little.”
“Do you know if the police are any closer to catching the criminals? Because it seems to me that they’re merely running around chasing their tails. Are they that incompetent?”
Casey rubbed her temple. “I’m sure there’s a lot going on behind the scenes. Maybe they’re closer to catching the gang than we know.”
“Have you heard something?”
Time to end this. “No, but I really need to get back to my meeting.”
“I was wondering if you’d like to come to my house for coffee soon,” Monica said. “I have information you might find interesting.”
Casey pushed herself away from the wall. “Can you tell me now?”
“It would take too long, and I can hear my granddaughters waking from their nap. I’ll have to go soon.”
“I’m not sure . . .”
“My husband’s away on business and, to be honest, I could use the company.”
Ordinarily, Casey would decline, but these days she’d do almost anything to get out of the house. And what if Monica did have something useful to share? “I’ll check my schedule and call you.”
“You’re a doll, which is more than I can say for some of your associates. But we can discuss that too.”
Casey’s patience dwindled. “If there’s a problem, I’d rather know now so we can deal with it straight away.”
“Well, on the weekend, I caught someone speeding down our street in one of those god-awful Hummers. He pulled over next to the park, so I went up to his window and told him to slow down. The idiot then showed me his ID card and said he’s with MPT and saw a suspicious vehicle in the area.”
“Really? Did you see unfamiliar cars cruising through your neighborhood?”
“No, but I did
see two young men walking up and down the sidewalk earlier that day, which I told your colleague. The stupid moron treated me like some senile old bat out to ruin his day. It was disgusting.”
Philippe was the only one who drove a Hummer, but Casey wanted further confirmation.
“What was the name on his ID card?”
“I can’t remember exactly, but it was French. And he looked like one of those surfer types with dark-blond, wavy hair.”
Definitely Philippe. “I need to run this by my supervisor. Can you tell me more about the two men?”
A child started crying in the background.
“Uh-oh, gotta go. Call me to set up a time.” She hung up.
Casey stayed outside the conference room and massaged both temples. The headache was gaining strength, and she wasn’t supposed to take medication for another two hours. Her legs felt rubbery and injured body parts were beginning to throb. Still, she wasn’t ready to go home. Casey returned to the meeting.
“Look, everyone needs to step up,” Stan was saying. “I know some of you have vacations scheduled, but I’m asking you to postpone them if possible. I’ve had to postpone mine, so I need to hear from those who have plans over the next four weeks.”
Noticing the disgruntled faces, Casey said, “I can do a couple of short shifts in my car.”
Stan’s jaw tightened. “Let’s talk in my office.” He gathered his papers. “We’re done here, people.”
As the team made their way to the door, Casey said to Stan, “I’m going to pop to the washroom first. Back in a minute.”
She hurried to the women’s room and splashed water on her face with shaking hands. After she’d dabbed her face with a paper towel, Casey took the pill bottle out of her purse. She studied the label. Would it be that bad if she took a couple of pills early?
Marie entered the room. Casey dropped the pills in her purse.
“It really is good to see you,” Marie said. “Aside from Stan, you’re the only one who can keep Philippe in check.”
Casey gave her a quick smile. “You can hold your own.”
“Yeah, but it’s been a battle.” She peered at Casey. “Are you sure you’re okay? Your eyelids are kind of droopy.”
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