by Judy Clemons
“So?”
“The murderer knew about the camera, but didn’t have the ability, or the opportunity, to actually disable it. There would have been security there all the time, watching the monitors.”
“So it was a security guy who killed her?”
“No.” Death put on a patient voice. “I’m saying security would have noticed someone messing with the camera lens. If they didn’t see the person smearing it, they would have at least seen that the lens was blurry. Unless…”
“L’Ankou, I’m tired. Just tell me.”
“Unless the guard was distracted. It took only a few seconds to mess up the lens, and only a moment for the killer to enter the hallway and get into the locker room door.”
“So you’re saying what? There was a second person?” Casey went suddenly hot, then cold. “There was an accomplice?” Casey’s heart felt like it was lodged in her throat. Because who better to distract a lonely security guard than Andrea’s supposed best friend? It should have been unthinkable—that a woman would sell out her best friend—but what kind of woman were they talking about? A woman who, by all accounts, had few scruples about what she did in her dating life, and was going to do just that the day after Andrea’s death, not twenty feet from where she had lain dying. Unless, of course, Krystal and Dylan had been planning on moving right through Casey’s office into the women’s locker room. Then they would’ve been practically on the spot of Andrea’s death.
Which was way too creepy for Casey to think about. Too creepy to believe.
“But why would Krystal do something that awful? If she hated Andrea, why didn’t she just kill her herself? Or, maybe, you know, talk to her about whatever the problem was? They were supposedly friends, after all.”
“We really don’t know anything about Krystal, do we?” Death said. “Other than the fact that she likes men.”
“Does more than like them.” Casey stepped around a man and his German Shepherd, who was examining the post of a mailbox.
The dog spun suddenly around, sniffing at Death’s legs, and Death did a little two-step to avoid it. “Well, the top reasons for murder are money, sex, and…something else.”
“Revenge.”
“Right. So, anyway, sex is right at the top, and Krystal is all about that. If I looked up the definition of sex, it would claim her as its top example, right along with a photo. Hmm. That would be a way to sell more dictionaries, wouldn’t it? Except everything’s on-line these days, and who’s going to buy an on-line dictionary?”
“What else do we know about Krystal?”
“Not much, except she works at the bank, and we didn’t find out a whole lot there. At least nothing surprising. Andrea was good at the actual banking, and Krystal…isn’t. Maybe Andrea’s folks will know something more substantial about her work.”
“I doubt it. Andrea was, what? Twenty-five? And she lived in the opposite corner of the country from her parents. They probably knew she worked at a bank, but more than that…I can’t really see it.”
“Maybe she was one of those kids who text their parents ten times a day with every little problem.”
“No. She was way too self-sufficient for that. I could tell that right off. She was out on her own, for real.”
“Running from something? Or someone? Maybe even her parents?”
“She didn’t seem like a runner. She was sure of herself. And content.”
Death laughed. “You talk like you knew her for years. What makes you think she was so happy?”
“I didn’t say she was happy. I said she was content. There’s a huge difference.”
“Like you would know. You’re neither.”
“But I remember what they both felt like. It wasn’t so long ago I’ve forgotten.”
The Flamingo reared up in front of them, in all its pinkness, and Casey’s step faltered. “Oh, L’Ankou, I don’t want to talk to these people. I don’t want to talk about their dead daughter. What do I have to say to them? How can I possibly help them in any way? I have nothing to offer them.”
“Binns said you don’t have to talk with them.”
“I know. But if it’s not now, it will be sometime in the next few days, when I have less control over it.” She let out a sound of frustration, anger, and hopelessness. It was all so pointless. “So I guess I’m getting it over with now. All right?”
“I guess.”
Casey walked toward the front of the building, but hesitated again.
Death sighed. “What now?”
Casey held up her hand. She could see someone at the base of one of the palm trees, hiding behind the bushes. There. Peeking around, then ducking back. The encroaching darkness cast shadows along the ground, and among the foliage, so Casey couldn’t get a good feel for who was waiting for her. Whoever it was obviously didn’t want to be seen.
“Should we cross to the other side of the street?” Death said.
“How would we get to our building, then? No. We’re going head on.”
Casey pulled her confidence out of reserve, rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck, and approached the tree with caution. The person didn’t look out again, and the average passerby would never know someone was there. Casey left her purse behind a bush, then walked straight, as if she were going to pass the tree. She spun around the trunk, pressing her forearm against the person’s throat and slamming her against the bark. Casey leaned forward, surprised. “Laurie?”
Laurie gagged, her wind cut off by Casey’s arm. Her hair was even wilder than it had been by the pool that afternoon, and her eyes shone wide and glassy. Casey released her, and she stumbled to the side, putting her hands to her neck.
“Sorry,” Casey said. “I didn’t know it was you.”
Laurie blinked several times and cleared her throat, her eyes darting from side to side.
Casey looked around, but didn’t see anyone else. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Yes, I… The guard saw you…I just wanted…never mind.” She turned to go.
“No, wait. Please. I won’t touch you again.” Casey held up her hands, as if in surrender.
Laurie fidgeted, then stepped a little farther back into the trees, gesturing for Casey to follow.
“Careful,” Death said.
“I’m always careful.”
Laurie frowned. “Me, too. At least I used to be.”
Casey couldn’t believe the mess of a woman Laurie had become. “What do you want, Laurie? I was waiting for you in the weight room earlier and you didn’t show up.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to. I just…couldn’t. Not right then. Maria was at the elevator and she…she was looking for me all day, wanting me to teach. I just can’t yet.” She glanced around, and shrank back into the foliage even more.
“Laurie, what is going on? Who are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
Death laughed. “Could’ve fooled me. Look at her, cowering in the greenery.”
“Laurie,” Casey said gently, “you’re hiding in bushes.”
Laurie sank to the ground, her back against a tree. She muffled a sob behind her hand. “Andrea’s family is in there.”
“Yes, I’m supposed to be meeting with them.”
Laurie winced. “What are you going to tell them?”
“I assume they want to know about when I found her.”
“That’s all?”
“I don’t know anything else. What else would I say? Look, Laurie, is there something I should know? Something you want to tell me?”
Laurie shook her head, still not looking up. “I don’t want to tell you anything.”
“Oh, great,” Death said. “Complete waste of time. And I think a bug just dropped down my collar.”
“Then why am I back here with you?” Casey said, trying to be more patient than Death.
“Because I want you to know Andrea’s death is not my fault. And it’s not his fault, either. He never meant to hurt anybody. He just wanted to make people happ
y.”
“Brandon, I assume she’s talking about,” Death said. “He wanted to make people happy by screwing them and stealing their money? Tell me where the ‘happy’ is in that equation.”
“Why would anyone blame you?” Casey said. “Why would you hurt Andrea?” Casey took a deep breath, and took a chance. “Look, Laurie. I know you were involved with Brandon, okay?”
Laurie inhaled sharply.
“And I know it ended badly. All of his relationships seemed to have ended badly. If he was involved with Andrea, that ended, too. Probably badly.”
“He wasn’t with her. He wasn’t! I would have known it!”
Casey was confused. “So if you were that sure, why would anyone think you’d hurt Andrea?”
Death laughed. “You think she’s going to confess out here in this mini jungle?”
“I wouldn’t hurt her,” Laurie said. “That’s what I’m telling you. People just think I did.” She sniffled. “But I never would have hurt her! Never!” This last was said in a wail, so loud that Death recoiled, and Casey grimaced, thinking of how peaceful it had been back a week ago in that smelly boxcar, with the drunk singing about bottles of beer. No one was dead. No one wanted anything from her. She’d just been uncomfortable and tired and hungry and injured and annoyed. Other than that, it had been heaven.
“Look,” Laurie said, lowering her voice. “I was jealous of her, okay? She was young, and pretty, and I was convinced she was with Brandon. She seemed so content. So unworried about all of the men and problems and frustrations the rest of us had. Just the fact that she could be friends with Krystal—well, that tells you something, doesn’t it? That she thought she didn’t have to compete? I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I confronted her. I asked her why she had to pick Brandon, out of all the men in the building, and she assured me I didn’t need to worry about her taking him away from me.” Laurie rubbed her eyes. “And then…then she said she was sorry. That she knew it must be hard being in love with him when so many women wanted the same thing.”
She looked at her hands. “I hated her for that. That she would be sorry for me. That she obviously thought I didn’t have a chance. I was too old, or too ugly, or too something.” She sniffed loudly. “I was so hurt. I’m sure someone knew. Someone heard. And now they think I killed her.”
Casey took a deep breath and let it out. “Laurie, no one has said anything to me about you killing Andrea.” That was, by all accounts, true. Binns had talked about Laurie, but hadn’t actually said she suspected her.
“Really?” Laurie peeked up at her.
“Really. I don’t think anyone is after you for it. Look, can I help get you inside? Maybe walk you to your apartment?”
“What? No, I’m fine. You…you go on. They’re waiting.”
“But—”
“I’m fine.” Laurie got up, dusted herself off, and held out her arms. “See? Good as new.” And she skittered off, out the front of the trees and away on the sidewalk.
Casey stared after her. “Wow, that is one messed up woman.”
“She’s sad.”
“But about what, exactly? On the one hand she’s sad Andrea’s dead, on the other, she’s still angry with her.”
“She’s sad about everything.” Death walked out of the trees and waited for Casey to retrieve her purse and follow. “She feels guilty about Andrea’s death, she’s devastated that Brandon is gone, and she’s absolutely crushed because she knows he never would have chosen her out of all the women here.”
Casey shook her head. “I guess I can see all those things. But maybe it’s really just that she has a screw loose.”
“Well, granted, there are probably several clanking around in there, but they’re probably because of all the guy trouble.”
Casey took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. “Well, I really don’t know what to think. Is she a crazy killer or just a pathetic, dumped woman?”
Death held out an arm toward the front door of the Flamingo, indicating that Casey should go first. “I think we both know the answer to that.”
“Pathetic and dumped?”
“I really think so.”
“Yeah,” Casey said sadly, walking away from the trees. “I think so, too.”
Chapter Twenty-two
The security guard was the same one as when Casey had returned from the hospital with Gomez two nights before. The young, good-looking one. He recognized her this time, and waved her in. Gomez was there, too, waiting in the lobby under one of the palm trees.
Casey’s heart leapt, and she reached out, as if to steady herself on Death’s arm.
“Steady there, girl. Just a handsome guy who looks like your dead husband. Cuban, though. Not Mexican.”
As if that made any difference in the way Casey’s body responded to him. It wasn’t like her feelings knew anything about nationality. Or even what would be helpful.
Jack, straightening up the tables in the bar, saw her before Gomez did. “Hey, Casey. You all right?”
She must have looked awful. Everyone kept asking her that.
“I’m fine. Just…I have to go talk with Andrea’s parents.”
“Sure. I saw them come in. Poor folks.”
Behind Jack, Casey could see Gomez taking notice of her and walking her way. She looked back at Jack’s kind face for strength. “You’ll be out here later?”
“Till twelve-thirty or so. Just like last night.”
Gomez reached them. “They’re waiting for you in Mrs. Williams’ office, Ms. Gray.” His forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”
“Just what I asked her,” Jack said. “You’ll take care of her?”
“Sure. I got her.”
“Hey,” Casey said. “I’m right here. And I’m fine. Where’s Binns?”
“She had to leave,” Gomez said. “Asked me to tell you she’ll call tomorrow.”
Great. “Thanks, Jack. See you later.”
“I’ll be here.”
Casey stepped away from Gomez and walked briskly toward Sissy’s office, not wanting to receive anything from the policeman, including his compassionate expression, the scent of his cologne, or even the movement of air around him. Just that brief interaction had made her feel all giddy, and that wasn’t what she needed heading into this conversation.
The light was on in Maria’s office, and Sissy’s door was open. Casey could see Sissy’s hands resting on her desk, and two sets of feet on the opposite side of the doorway—one in women’s low-heeled boots, and one in loafers. Casey shuddered.
“Deep breath,” Death said. “It’s just old people.”
“Old people who just lost their daughter,” Casey muttered.
“Excuse me?” Gomez leaned toward her.
Casey jerked away. “Nothing.”
“Ah, here she is.” Sissy got up and pulled Casey into the room. She wore the same maroon outfit she’d had on earlier, but her make-up had been freshly done, and her expression was all blank and businesslike. “Mr. and Mrs. Parker, this is Daisy Gray, our fitness instructor. She was friends with your daughter.”
Casey stared at her. Friends?
“I’m sure she’d be glad to tell you about Andrea and what she’d been doing here in Florida.”
Sissy gave Casey a bright smile, as fake as they come. Casey swiveled her eyes sideways to look at Death, who was perched on the back of Mr. Parker’s chair, watching Casey with raised eyebrows. The Parkers themselves weren’t really looking at anything. Mr. Parker had slouched so far down he seemed to be sinking into the chair, his eyes level with Sissy’s desktop. Mrs. Parker sat ramrod straight, her eyes aimed straight across the top of Sissy’s desk, even with the aerial photo of the complex. Neither one had acknowledged Casey’s arrival. She wondered if they were even really present in the room.
“Excuse me.” Officer Gomez stood in the doorway. “If you’re not needing me anymore, I’ll be off.”
“Oh, yes, we’re fine, officer,” Sissy gushed. “Thank you so much.”
<
br /> He looked at Casey.
Yes, she needed him, but not in any way that would be appropriate. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
He gave her a gentle smile, and left.
“Go ahead,” Sissy urged Casey. “Tell the Parkers all about their daughter.”
“Um…” Casey really, really wasn’t up for this. Confusing senseis, sexy police officers, crazy women hiding in the palm trees, being expected to talk about a woman she’d only known a few hours… “I actually only got to know Andrea—”
Sissy cleared her throat loudly. “Ms. Gray is going to be modest, no doubt, Mr. and Mrs. Parker. Andrea was a member of Ms. Gray’s aerobics classes, and one of her best students.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Casey, but Casey could see steel underneath the falseness. “She showed a lot of stability there, and at work, where she never missed a day.”
Was it possible Sissy would know this? Casey couldn’t imagine how. It’s not like anyone took attendance at fitness classes. And Sissy certainly wasn’t checking off little boxes to make sure everybody got to work on time.
Sissy opened her eyes wide and gave Casey a frightening stare.
“Andrea was a…regular class member,” Casey said. It wasn’t a lie. In the one day Casey had been there, Andrea had actually attended two sessions. Three if you counted the impromptu self-defense lesson. “She was very fit, and enjoyed the time with the other women.”
The Parkers didn’t move. They didn’t even act like they knew anyone had been talking. It was a kind of existence Casey recognized. Just as when she’d seen them exit the taxi, she could feel their grief, and their utter, complete exhaustion.
“Sissy,” she said quietly. “They don’t want to hear this right now.”
Sissy slumped, the forced brightness evaporating in a heartbeat. She leaned against her desk and rubbed her forehead. “I know. What I don’t know is what to do with them.”
Casey traveled back to the days after her family’s accident, those first hours when she’d had no idea how exactly her life had changed, unable to bring herself to the present because of the battering pain that would find her. “Do you have access to Andrea’s apartment?”
