by Judy Clemens
Casey swallowed. “But I thought she killed herself.”
“That’s right, but something had to drive her to it, isn’t that right?”
“I guess.” She picked at the wrap on the bike’s handlebars. “Any chance she didn’t kill herself?”
The chief gave her a long look, then slowly placed his sunglasses back over his eyes. “It’s been officially ruled a suicide, Ms. Smith. The autopsy confirmed she died of an overdose of her own sleeping pills. She sat down with a few cups of coffee and just about emptied the bottle. No bruises saying someone forced her to take them. No needle marks saying someone shot her up with something. All of the evidence points away from there being anyone else involved.”
“No fingerprints?”
He snorted. “Been talking to your friends at The Nesting Place, have you? They’d like me to call in favors from the governor to get Ellen’s entire house taken apart and analyzed.”
“But fingerprints are simple.”
“Yeah. And these simple prints are telling us no one else was involved. I really don’t think there’s any point in bringing her death up again, questioning how it happened. People here have enough to worry about these days, without thinking that maybe Ellen was murdered.” He held up a hand, forestalling her response. “I wish to God she hadn’t done it, Ms. Smith, but facts are facts. Nothing we can do will change them, and it’s not worth getting everybody all riled up over something that’s not true, or even likely.”
“Her kids might think differently.”
“Her kids are ten and seven. I really don’t think it matters to them one way or the other, does it?”
“You don’t?”
“Either way, they’re orphans.”
“Yes, but one way she chose to leave them, and the other she didn’t. I’d say that matters a lot.”
“Ms. Smith, that might matter to some people. Her family, sure, I can give you that. Her friends, like your hostesses at the bed and breakfast. They’ve made no secret of their feelings. Her boyfriend…” He looked at her meaningfully. “But somehow, Ms. Smith, I don’t see that it should matter a whole lot to you.”
“But—”
“Good day, Ms. Smith.” He began the trek back across the street, but stopped when he reached his cruiser, turning to her as if struck by a sudden thought. “And you know, I find myself hoping one last theory about you is true.”
“Really? And what is that?”
“That you’re a gypsy, and you can only stay in one place a few days at a time, or poof!” He splayed his fingers upward. “You evaporate.”
Casey watched him, her mouth open, as he opened his car door and slid into the seat. With a slight wave he accelerated through the intersection and drove off.
“Now that is a rude little man.” Death stood in the middle of the street, drinking a Slurpee and watching the police car turn a corner and disappear from view.
Casey crossed her arms. “So. Will I?”
“Will you what?”
“Evaporate?”
Death walked over and pinched Casey’s cheek with fingers icy from the drink. “Hardly. Chief Reardon doesn’t know anything about gypsies.”
“Really? And you do?”
“Of course. And gypsies do not evaporate.”
Casey sighed. “So much for that idea.”
Death took another loud slurp and took off the drink lid, stirring the ice with the straw. “Gypsies do, however, get arrested and convicted of crimes they did not commit.”
Casey jerked her head in the direction of the police car.
When she turned back around, Death was gone.
Chapter Seventeen
Casey was pedaling slowly, trying to bring her heart rate back to normal, when a strange vibration came from her jacket pocket. She glanced down. What in the world? Oh. Her phone. She’d forgotten to remove it the day before.
She braked and stopped, one foot on the curb. Yanking the phone from her pocket, she scanned the face for the incoming number. Ricky. Of course. He could’ve gotten her information when she’d called yesterday. His catering business was sure to have Caller ID.
“Ricky?”
“They were here again. At my house. The lady with the hair, and the guy with the face.”
“What? When?”
“Just now. And that’s not all. She was with them.”
“She? You mean…” He could only mean one person. Dottie Spears. The CEO of Pegasus. “What did she want?”
“Same thing Hair and Face wanted yesterday. To know where you were.”
“But for her to come—”
“Something must’ve happened.”
He was right. He had to be. “What did you tell them?”
“What I always tell them. The truth. I don’t know where you are, where you’re going, or how to get in touch with you. Except that was a lie, of course, since we’re on the phone now and I do know your e-mail address. Not that you check it very often.”
“Are they gone?”
“Of course they’re gone.”
“I mean gone gone. Have you looked outside?”
She could hear his sigh over the phone, and the rustle that meant he was moving.
“Okay. I’m looking out the front window. There’s nobody there. No cars, either. Except mine and—”
Casey waited. “And?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, no. You’re not doing that. Who’s car is there?”
“Casey…”
“It’s not that awful girl from work again, is it, Ricky? What was her name? Jewel? Please tell me it’s not.”
“And if it is?”
“I guess I’ll have to come home after all.”
“Aaaah, so now I know the secret. I think I will have to call her again.”
Casey put a hand to her forehead. “So it’s not her?”
“It’s not her. But back to the reason I called—”
“You’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s not like these people are dangerous or anything. Just annoying.”
Casey wasn’t so sure. The guy with the face…well, that face wasn’t any too forgiving. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Of what? Incoming lawsuits?”
“Ricky…”
“All right, all right. I’ll be careful. Whatever that means.”
“It means—”
“I know what it means. I’m not an idiot.”
“Are you sure?” Casey squeezed her phone. “This number will be in your records now. I’ll have to get rid of it. You do realize they can track cell phones?”
“You called me yesterday.”
“At work. Not on your personal phone.”
“Oh. That’s right. But if you get rid of the phone how am I supposed to—”
“By e-mail, like usual.”
“But you have to promise—”
“I can’t promise anything.”
“—that you’ll check your e-mail more often. Okay? That’s all I’m asking.”
Casey blew a stray hair from her eyes. “Once a day.”
“At least.”
“Once a day.”
Ricky grumbled something she couldn’t hear.
“And Ricky? Check on Mom, will you?”
“You think they’ll go after her?”
“They’re bugging you. They’ve gotta think Mom knows where I am, even if you don’t.”
“I’ll check as soon as we hang up.”
“Thanks. And hey, if you find something out about…about Pegasus, let me know, okay?”
“Same goes for you.”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Good.”
A few seconds of humming phone service hung in the air between them.
“So…”
“Thanks for calling, bro. I appreciate the heads up.”
“You’re welcome. Now come home.”
Casey smiled sadly, gripping the phone tightly to her ear. “As soon as I can, Rick. I promise.”
“Well. I guess that’s about as good as I can expect. Love you, sis.”
“Love you, too.”
She held the phone to her ear long after he’d hung up, listening to the dead air.
Chapter Eighteen
Dottie Spears hadn’t started out as a horrible person. At least not when Casey had met her. She’d been sympathetic and kind, her iron hand at Pegasus showing only when one of her underlings said something insensitive in Casey’s hearing.
But Casey’s lawyers hadn’t trusted the woman, even at the beginning. In fact, they’d gone so far as to call her a slimy, bottom-dwelling, daughter-of-a-snake cannibal. And that was just for starters.
Casey had wanted to believe the best. Had actually been in too much shock and misery from the loss of her family, not to mention her own injuries, to notice when Dottie said things that might’ve been out of line. Such as suggesting it would be easier for Casey to just forget the whole thing and go on with her life, rather than fight the fight with Pegasus.
Casey hadn’t wanted to fight the fight. Had sincerely thought it would be best to leave it all, so she could just fade away, spending her days in the darkness of her bedroom, with her blanket over her head. But her lawyers hadn’t felt that way. Neither had Ricky, or her mother. They said she had to keep her head up. Go on with it all to show Pegasus that they couldn’t get away with their faulty mechanics. To keep anyone else from losing their family.
But Casey could honestly say she hadn’t cared at the time. Hadn’t cared that an entire fleet of hybrid cars and the people in them were headed for catastrophe. She didn’t care about anything at that point, other than the fact that she was alive, and didn’t want to be. In fact, she wasn’t convinced any car other than hers had had the same problem. Hers was a freak. An almost impossibility. Dottie Spears had told her so.
But as the months went on, as Ricky and her mother forced her to survive, she began to realize that something wasn’t right. The CEO of the company who killed her family shouldn’t be allowed to come to Casey’s house whenever she wanted, bearing plates of cookies. Sure, there was the possibility the woman actually cared, but as time went on Casey could see the reality of that was even more remote than the chance her car really was the only faulty one.
Casey finally agreed to take them on.
It wasn’t pretty. None of it was. Dottie Spears’ change from sympathetic friend to lethal opponent was so fierce it gave Casey nightmares. As if she needed any more of those. At least these involved claws and teeth, rather than flames and explosions and the screams of loved ones.
Casey didn’t want to go to court. Didn’t want photographs of her mutilated husband and son plastered across the courtroom, and therefore the nightly news. Didn’t want her family to become the poster children of vehicles gone awry. Didn’t want to sit in the witness stand at the mercy of Dottie and her legions of lawyers, who claimed Reuben had been drinking too much before they’d gone to pick up Omar that night…
She also didn’t want to look like the crazy woman, going after a scapegoat Pegasus for millions to make up for her dead family. Because nothing could make that up. And nothing is what would happen if she came off looking like a money-hungry bitch.
So they’d fought it in boardrooms. Closed doors, keeping out the media. Hammering away at a resolution that should please them all. All except Casey, who would be pleased only when she received a pass to that eternal haven, where she would meet up with Reuben and Omar.
She hadn’t gotten that.
Casey, now back at the library under stick-thin librarian Stacy’s watchful eye, had forced herself to return to the Pegasus web site. Not that they would have anything worthwhile there. She would have to look elsewhere for whatever had spurred Dottie Spears’ visit to Ricky. The woman still looked the same…if the on-line photo was up-to-date. The same as yesterday. The same as every day Casey looked.
Shaking her head, she brought up a search engine and typed in “Pegasus,” plus the date. If anything new was happening, it should be in the day’s news. She scrolled through the hits. Stock prices—still growing. Car dealerships—mostly the company’s own, with their trademark “personal green touch.” A question and answer site, where Pegasus owners took turns praising and criticizing their new rides. Nothing controversial, that Casey could find. Nothing new.
She expanded her search to include the entire month of September and received more of the same. Paging down, she scanned the headlines, looking for anything different, anything other than the Pegasus propaganda and useless “how do I take out the middle drink tray to clean it” questions.
She found it on page four. “Man Dies in Fatal Crash.” Pulse pounding in her temple, she read the article, which described the fiery inferno that engulfed a fifty-two-year-old man on his way home from work in Clear Lake, Iowa. He was driving a Pegasus car, same model and year as Casey’s had been. He left a wife and two college-aged children, and had been a large-animal veterinarian.
Casey laid her face on her fists, her breath coming in short, shallow gulps. How could this happen? Pegasus was supposed to—
“Everything okay?”
Casey’s breath caught, and she rounded on the person at the next computer, her voice a hiss. “No, everything is not okay!”
Death glanced around, eyebrows raised, before leaning toward Casey. “So you found it?”
Casey jabbed a finger at the article. “How long have you known about this?”
“Let’s see, when did it happen?” Death looked at the computer screen. “Two weeks ago Thursday, right? Yes. I’ve known since then.”
Casey turned back to her computer and closed her eyes. “You kept this from me—”
“Ma’am?” Stacy the Librarian hovered at her elbow. “Um, is everything all right?”
Casey took a deep breath and let it out before looking up at him. “I’m sorry. I just found out some…bad news.”
“Oh.” He looked at the computer screen. “Anything I can help with?”
“No.”
He backed up a short step.
“No, I’m sorry.” Casey held up her hand. “But thank you. I’m…fine. I’ll go in a minute.”
Relief washed over his features, quickly replaced by a professional mask of helpfulness. “Okay. Well, let me know if I can do anything for you.”
“I will.”
She watched from the corner of her eye as he made his way back to his desk, and avoided his gaze as he glanced back at her.
“You get me in more trouble…” She talked without moving her lips.
But Death was gone.
Casey found the “forward this article” button and e-mailed it to Ricky. He needed to know Pegasus had fresh worries. And had possibly violated the agreement they’d hashed out in those boardrooms so long ago.
Chapter Nineteen
“They were supposed to fix those cars, Don,” Casey said. “Every one.”
“I know.” Her lawyer’s voice was even and quiet. “It was my understanding they did.”
“Well, apparently they missed one. And the guy’s dead.”
“Okay. Tell me where to find the information.”
Casey did. “It shouldn’t have happened, Don.”
“No. No, it shouldn’t have.” Casey could hear him ruffling some papers. “I’ll make some inquiries.”
“Have they been there?”
“Who?”
“The Pegasus people. Have they been bothering you?”
“No.” He sounded surprised. “Why would they?”
“Because they’re trying to find me. They won’t leave Ricky alone. And I’m afraid they’ll go after my mother.”
“What are they doing?” Don’s voice wasn’t so quiet now. “It was part of the agreement. No contact. You would both keep up your end of the settlement, and that was supposed to be that.”
“Yeah, but the agreement just talked about me. No contact with me. It didn’t say anything about Ricky or my mom.”
The silence on the phone was ominous. “Leave it to me, Casey. I’ll take care of it. And besides, if they’re trying to find you—which they shouldn’t be doing in the first place—what exactly are they going to do if not contact you?”
Casey wasn’t sure she wanted to think about that. “Ricky said he was going to send you some more papers for me to sign. You should get them in a day or two.”
“What are they?”
“Don’t know. But I’ll give you an address soon, where you can send them.”
“Where are you now?”
She smiled. “You and Ricky. You just won’t stop, will you?”
“Hey, a guy’s got to keep trying, doesn’t he? One of these days…”
“Yeah. One of these days it won’t matter anymore.” She looked across the picnic table toward the playground, where this time two fathers played with the children. She swallowed the large lump in her throat. “And don’t bother trying to call me back at this phone number. Ricky already called it from home, so I’ll have to ditch it.”
“Casey—”
“They’re not going to stop, Don. They’ll keep looking till they succeed, and I really don’t want to find out what they want.”
“It can’t be—”
“Thanks for everything. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. But Casey…take care of yourself, okay? Do you need money?”
Casey laughed. “Don, you’re the one who signed that agreement with Pegasus. You know I don’t need money.”
He sighed. “I know. But it’s the sort of thing one is supposed to ask.”
“Well, you don’t have to ask me. Good-bye, Don.”
“Good-bye. And Casey?”
“Yeah?”
“Call again soon.”
She pushed the off button and considered the phone. How such a small piece of equipment could betray her… She got back on her bike, taking a last look at the fathers and their kids. Reuben had never gotten to play with Omar at a playground. Never taken him to a ball game. Never got to hear that universal first word. Da-da.
She pointed the bike toward the highway, and began pedaling.
Chapter Twenty
