Flowers for Her Grave

by Judy Clemons

  “I’m outta here.” Dylan stood beside her, sweaty and so very young. “You know, you don’t look so good.”

  Casey raised her eyebrows. “In what way?”

  “In a way like you might keel over. Need help getting up to your room?” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows.

  Casey laughed. “I think I can make it. Thanks.”

  “Another time, then.”

  “Oh, will there be a time I’m not old enough to be your mother?”

  “You’re not.”

  “Baby-sitter, then.”

  He studied her. “I guess you are. But who cares these days? Anyway, it’s all over Cougarville in the Flamingo.”

  “Really? You have older women after you?”

  “All the time, baby. And let me tell you, older women—as long as they’re not too old—can teach a boy like me a few tricks.”

  Casey shook her head, trying not to laugh again. “You’re awful.”

  “But sexy.”

  “Get out of here.”

  He dodged the towel she threw at him, then picked it up and tossed it back. “See you in a couple days, hottie.” He sauntered away, chuckling.

  “Now that boy needs a real woman.” Death stared after Dylan.

  “Well, it’s not going to be me.”

  “No, you’d rather have that pretty Officer Gomez who brought us back last night.”

  Casey went hot. “I’d rather have nobody.”

  “Oh, come on. Reuben might be dead, but like it or not, you’re still here, with all your female parts working. I thought Eric taught you that a couple weeks ago. I seem to remember some sweating, and some clothes coming off.”

  Casey hastily threw her towel in the laundry bin and said hello to the woman who stood beside the shelves of clean linen, folding and stacking. What was her name? Rosa? Rosa’s nose was red, and her eyes bloodshot. Casey stopped. She didn’t know enough Spanish to have a meaningful conversation, but she hated to just walk by a grieving woman.

  “Andrea?” she said quietly.

  Rosa let go with a sob, and pressed her hand over her mouth.

  “I’m sorry,” Casey said. “She was your friend? Amiga?”

  Rosa nodded. “Yes. She was…nice lady.”

  “Yes,” Casey said. “Si.” She patted Rosa’s arm, and continued into the hallway. The crime scene tape was still draped across the doorway of the aerobics room, although she could see no sign of activity inside. A couple of women in workout clothes lingered in the hallway, trying to see through the glass in the door, but Sissy was not among them.

  “Is it true?” A middle-aged woman in clothes too tight for her extra padding grabbed Casey’s arm.

  Casey extricated herself from the woman’s claws. “Depends what you heard.”

  “That a crazy man broke in and attacked some women last night. That one of them died, and the rest are still in the hospital.” Her chin quivered, and the rest of the group pushed forward, waiting for Casey’s answer.

  “One person was assaulted, and died. Andrea Parker. No one else was hurt, and no one else is in the hospital.”

  “But that friend of hers isn’t here. Krystal. And we haven’t seen Sissy. And you were at the hospital.”

  The mixture of eagerness and curiosity on the woman’s face made Casey’s stomach turn. This woman wasn’t so much worried about safety as she was about landing a juicy scandal. “Krystal and Sissy are probably both still in bed. It was a late night. All of us were at the hospital, but just because of Andrea. None of the rest of us were with her when it happened.”

  She said all that as fact, but she didn’t really know that, did she? Krystal had said she’d left Andrea alone, but what if she hadn’t? What if she was there when the person broke in? What if she’d had something to do with it?

  Casey shook her head. That was just stupid. Krystal wouldn’t have hurt her friend. And the cameras would have caught two people on tape in the hallway if she’d been there, instead of just the one blurred image. Unless that one person was Krystal.

  Casey wasn’t seeing it.

  The women were asking her something else now, the gossipy woman’s fingernails again digging into Casey’s arm. Casey shrugged off the woman’s hand when she realized what they were asking.

  “Of course I didn’t do it,” Casey said. “And the cops know that.”

  “But how do they know?” the fat woman said, her chins flapping. “They don’t know everything. You could be working for…for the mafia.”

  “What? And Andrea was connected to them?”

  “You never know anymore, with all these Cubans coming over, and illegal aliens, and communists—”

  “Andrea wasn’t Cuban.”

  “But she could’ve known some Cubans.”

  “Everybody in this part of Florida knows Cubans.” Casey took a deep breath, praying she wouldn’t kill this woman without being aware of what she was doing in her sleep-deprived state. “I don’t know when classes will resume, ladies. We’ll be in touch, okay?”

  “All classes are canceled for today.” Maria Mendez, the administrative assistant, strode toward the door with a sign. It said simply, “All classes canceled,” along with the date. “As soon as the police are finished with the room we can get back to our regular schedule. Probably tomorrow.”

  “But I need my workout,” the pudgy woman said.

  “So go run around the block. Or maybe walk. You’ve got legs.”

  Casey was surprised at the tone of Maria’s voice, but the women responded to the sound of authority, and stopped asking questions. They sniffled and fidgeted, gradually moving away.

  “You okay?” Casey asked Maria when the women were out of earshot.

  “What do you think?” Maria’s eyes looked just the slightest bit wild, and her usually perfect hair was lopsided. “It was my key. My key was used to get to Andrea. How will I ever be okay?”

  “If it hadn’t been yours, they would’ve found another. It’s not your fault.”

  “Easy for you to say.” She hiccupped, then closed her eyes briefly. “I’m sorry. I know you found her. That wouldn’t have been easy at all.”

  “No. It wasn’t.”

  “And half the residents think you did it.”

  “I know. Do you think so?”

  Maria shrugged. “How do I know? You could be anybody. A killer. A thief. Or even a woman who was in the wrong place at a very wrong time. The cops say it wasn’t you.”

  “Do you believe them?”

  “When do I ever believe cops?”

  With that, she turned and walked away.

  When she was gone, Casey realized there was still one person left in the hallway. Laurie, the other fitness teacher, sat with her back against the wall, knees pulled up to her chest. Her face was white, and she stared at the carpet.

  Casey squatted next to her. “Laurie?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “So Andrea’s really dead.”

  “Yes.”

  Laurie’s mouth worked, and she turned her head to look back down the hallway. “Do they know who did it? Did she tell the cops?”

  “No, she didn’t.” She’d used her last breaths to tell them Casey hadn’t done it. While Casey was grateful for that, she wished Andrea would have named her assailant. But perhaps she didn’t because she didn’t know who it was. Had she even seen the face of her killer? Or had she been surprised? Or was her brain too addled by that point to even remember what had happened? She’d told Casey she wasn’t able to run. Was that because she was in the confined area of the shower, or because she’d been hit so hard she was unable to move? When Casey had found her, she was lying face down on the tile. That would make sense if the person got her from behind.

  Laurie gave a big shiver, and pressed her face against her knees.

  “Laurie,” Casey said, “were you and Andrea close?”

  Laurie gave a little sob. “No. I only knew her from classes. She was younger than me. She had her own friends. Her own life. So
much ahead of her. It had nothing to do with me. None of it did.” She took another shuddering breath. “She didn’t deserve to die. Not like that.”

  “Of course not. No one does.”

  Laurie sniffed harshly, and slowly turned her head toward Casey, resting her cheek on her knees. A strange little smile fluttered on her lips, and her eyes looked almost manic for just a moment before she blinked and her eyes dimmed again. “No one does. That’s right. Of course.” She pushed herself up, leaning against the wall for support. “I’ll just…I’ll just go.”

  “Let me help you.”

  She flapped her hand at Casey. “No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. You go on. You do…whatever you need to do.” She walked to the elevator and punched the button continually until the doors opened, and she got on.

  “Now that was just creepy.” Death stood beside Casey in a light yellow uniform, complete with rubber gloves. An embroidered patch on the breast pocket said, Eternally Clean. For that Spotless Finish. The name under the logo read, Enma Daiou. “Did you see the way she turned her head and looked at you? It was like The Exorcist all over again, except she’s a lot older. And her head didn’t spin around.”

  “It was weird, like she was trying to convince herself Andrea shouldn’t have died. Or at least that they weren’t friends. I’m thinking there’s more to their relationship than we know.”

  “So Andrea’s death really didn’t have anything to do with Krystal, after all?”

  Casey shrugged. “Andrea was a strong woman on her own. Krystal couldn’t have overshadowed everything. Could she?”

  “But if what you’re saying is true, then Andrea had her own darker secrets. If Laurie wanted her dead.”

  “She didn’t actually say that. She just protested a little too much that she and Andrea had nothing to do with each other. It could just be she’s sad she wasn’t better friends with her. Almost like she wished she had been. Or at least that she would have been young like her, and moving in her circles.”

  “Which means we should find out exactly what went on—or didn’t go on—between them.”

  “Right.” Casey sagged against the wall. “But right now I need another power nap. I’m going to my room.”

  “And miss all the fun?”

  “What fun?”

  “As we speak, the cops are on their way to take another look.”

  “Then I’ll let them do their job.”

  “You don’t want to watch?”

  “I’ve already seen it, L’Ankou. I don’t want to see it again.” In fact, the mere idea of going back into the locker room with Andrea’s blood still on the shower floor made her queasy. “You stay if you want. I’m going to bed.”

  “Don’t forget to set your alarm. You have more personal training in an hour.”

  “Yes, mother.”

  The elevator clunked, signaling the arrival of the police.

  Casey ducked into the service stairwell and trudged up to her apartment.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Casey did, in the end, forget to set her alarm, and woke up only because someone was banging on her door. She rolled out of bed and stumbled to her living room, her right leg asleep from the awkward position she’d lain in.

  “I thought you might be here.” It was Sissy. Her nose was red, and her eyes swollen, which seemed to have become the uniform look around the building. She wore a subdued maroon pantsuit and clasped a well-used handkerchief in her hands.

  Casey rubbed her eyes, not really awake. “What is it?”

  “It’s two-o’clock.”

  “Two—” Casey shot a look at the clock. “I’m missing water aerobics.” She turned to get her swimsuit, but Sissy grabbed her arm.

  “I told the class all sessions would be canceled today, even though the pool is open.”

  “I missed some personal training appointments, too.” Casey groaned and sagged onto a chair. “I’m sorry. First day on the job and I’m letting you down.”

  “No, no.” Sissy shut the door and sat down across the table from Casey. “I should be apologizing to you. You came here and got dragged into something awful that had nothing to do with you.” She pierced Casey with a look. “Right?”

  Casey closed her eyes, trying to make sense of what Sissy was saying. “Right what?”

  “She wants to know if you had anything to do with Andrea’s death, or know anything about it.” Death sat on the sofa in an outfit the same color as Sissy’s, with the addition of a jaunty hat. “She doesn’t want to admit she might’ve made a mistake hiring you, but she doesn’t completely trust you, either.”

  Casey snapped her head toward Sissy. “I had nothing to do with Andrea’s murder. You can ask the detective. She’s already ruled me out.”

  “I know she has. But some of our residents are inquiring. You show up, and immediately one of our people is dead. It’s my duty to check in with you.”

  Casey felt sick. “I understand they might be wondering. But tell them to ask the cops if they doubt me. The police can prove it wasn’t me.”

  “Can they prove you don’t know anything about it? That you weren’t a part of it at all?”

  “A part of— Look. I’m sorry you don’t trust me. I’m sorry I didn’t have references.” She was, in fact, sorry she’d ever even considered coming to Florida, let alone the Flamingo. “But I knew none of these people before coming here, or anyone associated with them. And I don’t know anything about who it could have been last night. I certainly didn’t see them, or I would have said something by now.” She rubbed her forehead. “Believe me, I would leave right now if it would make everyone feel better, but there’s no way the cops will let me go before they’re done investigating.”

  “Because they still think you did it?”

  “No! Because I’m the one who found Andrea. Remember? I tried to save her?”

  Sissy looked down at the handkerchief she was twisting in her hands. “I know. I know you tried.” She wiped her nose. “It’s just…I’ve made some bad decisions. I want people to know that this time the bad things didn’t happen because I hired you.”

  Casey reached across the table and laid her hand on Sissy’s. “It wasn’t me. You can stop worrying about that.”

  “Just…be careful, okay? Some of them are angry. They’re sending a petition around to have you kicked out.”

  “Who is?”

  She hesitated. “Krystal.”

  “I knew she was trouble,” Death sighed, “from the moment I first saw her luscious bod.”

  “She’s in shock,” Casey said. “She just lost her best friend.”

  “Still,” Sissy said. “It’s awful.”

  “It’s a way for her to deal with her grief.” Not a good way, or productive, but Casey really couldn’t blame her. “Are many people signing it?”

  “That’s the thing. They aren’t. Those who took your classes yesterday don’t believe you would’ve done it, and those who didn’t meet you won’t sign it without knowing more. I mean, sure, she’s gotten a few dozen signatures, but those are mostly from the retirees who live in the other two buildings and wouldn’t set foot in an exercise class to save their lives. They just want a scandal. It’s why they moved to Florida, really, besides the beach and the eternal summer.”

  “Not eternal,” Death said. “Poor choice of words. Perpetual summer. That would be better.”

  “So what about the rest of the day?” Casey said. “Do I stay holed up in here?”

  “It’s up to you. It might be good to show your face around a bit, so people see you have nothing to feel guilty about. If they know your face, they can’t just blame some anonymous person. But…” She hesitated.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to put you in danger. What if…someone comes after you?”

  “Would Krystal do that?”

  “There’s no telling. She’s never gone after anyone before—physically, that is. I mean, she has physically, but not violently. I mean…Oh! I’m saying this
all wrong.”

  Death snorted. “She’s saying Krystal might bed you, but probably won’t kill you.”

  “I think I understand.”

  “Good,” Sissy and Death both said.

  Sissy got up and pushed her chair in. “I suppose I need to get some things done. Andrea’s family is flying in from Oregon. They can’t take her…her body away, of course, until the investigation is done, but they feel they should be here, and they’ll be packing up her apartment.”

  “Of course.” Casey walked Sissy to the door. “Have you canceled my personal training sessions for the afternoon?”

  “Oh!” Sissy’s hand flew to her mouth. “I forgot about that. I had Maria put a note on the aerobics door, but not on the one to the weight room. I’ll have her do it right now.”

  “No, actually, I would like to keep the appointments. Can I do that?”

  “To show your face around?”

  “Partly. And to give me something else to think about.” There was no way she’d be able to go back to sleep now.

  “Well, that’s fine, I guess. Just…watch out for yourself, okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Sissy.” Casey shut the door behind her.

  “So I’m not sure what all that was,” Death said. “Accusation or warning?”

  “Both.” Casey stood in the mouth of the hallway leading back to her bedroom. “She doesn’t really think I did it, but she’s feeling anxious because she made those bad hiring decisions in the past. She doesn’t want to get blamed for a resident’s death. Especially since she was letting Andrea use the exercise rooms after hours.”

  “But she also doesn’t want you getting blamed for something you didn’t do.”

  “Or getting hurt. I appreciate that.”

  “If she knew your record with thugs, she might not worry so much.”

  Casey shook her head. “Do you remember what my face looked like a week ago?”

  “Oh. Right. I was going to call you Hamburger Face, but you were in such a bad mood I decided not to. Where are you going?”