Flowers for Her Grave Read online

  “Criminal vibes. What, are you psychic now?”

  “You know what I mean. You can just tell about some people. She had such a good feel about her.”

  “Yeah, for that less than a day you knew her.” Death frowned, brow wrinkling, then smiled. “You’re wrong.”

  “She really was a crook?”

  “No, she really wasn’t. You’re wrong about her and Brandon.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because she knew Richie. Remember? That first day, she told you he was a sweetheart, but he just didn’t fit here.”

  “So?”

  “How would she know there would even be an instructor job here for Brandon? It’s not like those jobs are always popping up, as you know from your search last week. And the job was filled already, by Richie.”

  “She and Brandon could’ve done their research. Found a place where the instructor was a loser, and then Andrea gives Sissy a recommendation to hire Brandon when Richie’s gone.”

  “No. Too convoluted. It wouldn’t work. I think you just have to admit it. She was not a con artist.”

  “Well, good. I hope you’re right.” She closed her eyes.

  “Um, Casey?”

  Casey jerked her head up. “What?”

  “You fell asleep just then. I think you might want to go to bed, or you’ll get a crick in your neck.”

  “So thoughtful of you.”

  “Actually, I just hate having you fall asleep in the middle of me talking.”

  Casey stacked the folders and shoved them into the vent, with her other things.

  Death watched. “You do realize you’re completely screwing up the ventilation in this apartment?”

  “I’m not here enough to care.”

  “True.”

  Casey stumbled to her bedroom and crawled under the covers. Her eyes opened halfway. “Wasn’t I supposed to go somewhere? Or meet somebody? I think I promised…”

  She fell asleep before Death could even answer.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “Wakey, wakey!” Death stood beside Casey’s bed in a velour sweat suit the color of egg yolks.

  “Oh, my God,” Casey said. “What are you wearing?”

  Death looked down. “Don’t like it? It was all the rage in the seventies.”

  “Well, get it out of this century! Argh!” Casey rolled out the other side of the bed. When she turned around, Death wore modern red and white warm-ups, with dark blue accents.

  “Better?”

  “Much.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “Thank you for waking me up in time for my class.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That.” Casey used the bathroom, then went to the kitchen for some yogurt.

  “You’ll fit right in with the Land of the Dead class today,” Death said. “You look like hell.”

  “Thank you. So very much.”

  Death beamed.

  Casey put on some clothes and tromped down the service stairs to the aerobics room.

  “Uh-oh,” Death said.

  Krystal sat alone on the floor by the door. Casey stopped outside the stairwell, and Krystal looked up.

  “Wow,” Death said. “And here I thought you looked bad.”

  Krystal did look terrible, like she hadn’t slept or eaten in a week. She had bags under her eyes, and her hair draped in greasy strands against her face and shoulders. Even her voluptuous body lay hidden underneath wrinkled clothes and despair.

  Casey prepared herself, waiting to see what kind of attack she would need to defend against—verbal or physical. She wasn’t worried about the physical damage this depressing Krystal could do, but Casey needed to be careful not to hurt the other woman if she came at her.

  Krystal lurched to her feet. “Daisy. Daisy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I…” Her face crumpled, and tears leaked out of her eyes and down her cheeks. She stumbled forward, hands outstretched, snot running from her nose.

  “Now that is really not attractive,” Death said.

  Casey had to agree, and stepped out of the way of the weeping woman. Krystal kept moving, ending up against the wall, where she rested her forehead, her hands spread out above her like she was surrendering to the police. Casey felt like giving the cops a call to take advantage of the moment, but Krystal hadn’t actually done anything illegal. Just malicious. And probably out of grief.

  “I’m sorry,” Krystal mumbled. “I was just…I’m just…” Slowly, she turned to rest her back against the stairwell door. “I can’t believe she’s gone. Ooooooh.”

  “Again with the wailing,” Death said, hands over ears. “I’m outta here.” Death disappeared, walking right through the wall into the aerobics room.

  Voices drifted around the corner from the public stairs, and Casey stepped closer to Krystal, to hide her from view. “Krystal, have you slept at all?”

  Krystal sniffed, and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “Yes.”

  “In the past two days?”

  “Oh. Well, I’m not sure about that.”

  Casey pulled out her phone and glanced at the clock. “Okay. I’ve got a few minutes. Come on.” Casey pulled Krystal into the service stairwell. “What floor do you live on?”

  “What?”

  “Your apartment. What floor?”

  “Same as Andrea.”

  So, the fourth. “Let’s go.”

  Krystal squinted up the stairs. “Up there?”

  “Move.”

  Casey propelled Krystal up three flights of stairs, having to prod her at every landing. When they reached the fourth floor, Casey dug through Krystal’s pockets to find her key. There was nothing to indicate which door it opened.

  Krystal gripped the jamb of the stairwell door. “It’s all my fault.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “It is. I should have been there with her, instead of…”

  Casey waited. “Instead of where, Krystal?”

  Her face crumpled. “Instead of in the guard room.”

  Casey sucked in a breath. So she and Death were right. “What were you doing in the guard room?”

  Krystal’s eyes widened. “Have you seen the night guard? He’s so…hot.”

  “So you decided on a whim to go down and seduce the guard?” Casey couldn’t believe it was a coincidence.

  “No. He sent me a note.”

  “A note?”

  She gave a wavery smile. “It was so sweet. He said he loved me, that I was so beautiful…”

  “And?”

  “And that I should come down to be with him that night. Around midnight, he said. No one would know. No one would find out.” She frowned. “He was surprised when I showed up. Like he didn’t think I’d really come. But we had…a good time.”

  So Krystal had distracted the guard. But if she was telling the truth, she’d been invited to visit him. A coincidence? Or trickery? Not a trick of the guard’s. He wouldn’t need to distract himself from seeing the monitor. Whatever it was, at least Krystal hadn’t betrayed her best friend on purpose.

  Even if she was a skank.

  “I went back to check on Andrea afterward,” Krystal said. “I saw you in the aerobics room, so I figured she was gone.”

  Casey peered down the hallway at the look-alike doors. Andrea’s door was closed, and the strip at the bottom was dark. Casey hoped the Parkers had been able to fall asleep. “Which door is yours, Krystal?”

  Krystal swayed on her feet.

  “Which one!” Casey barked.

  Krystal staggered ahead and stopped at Andrea’s door, leaning her head against it. “This one. This one’s mine.”

  Casey pulled her away. “No, that’s Andrea’s. ”

  Krystal’s breath hitched, and she looked at the door with confusion, touching one of the “missing you” cards. She spun around and pointed at the door directly across from Andrea’s. “Then it’s that one.”

  Casey used the key and swung the door open. Krystal stood unmoving in the hallway, and C
asey yanked her into an apartment with the exact same layout as Casey’s, and as Andrea’s, for that matter. The curtains were closed, but with the light from the hallway, Casey could see food lying on the table, and a few days’ worth of newspapers scattered over the floor just inside the door. Other than that, what she could see looked neat, like no one had been in it for a few days. Casey made a quick check of the entire apartment, to be sure there weren’t any stalkers or anything, and it was no surprise there weren’t piles of dirty laundry, or even wet towels on the floor. Krystal obviously hadn’t changed for quite some time, as she was still wearing the same clothes she’d had on when she and Dylan made their impromptu appearance in Casey’s office the other night.

  Casey strode to the living room window and flung open the curtain. The beginnings of a sunrise lightened the sky, but not enough to illuminate the room, so Casey turned on all the lights she could find. The first thing she noticed was another stack of papers spread over the sofa. They’d been ripped in half. Casey picked up one fragment, and saw that it was the petition Krystal had been circulating to get Casey fired.

  Casey shook her head. “At least she’s come to her senses about that.” She dropped the paper back onto the pile. “Okay, Krystal. Shower.” She pushed Krystal down the hallway to the bathroom and started the water. “Strip.”

  Krystal’s face screwed up with confusion.

  “Oh, good lord, do I have to do everything?” Casey gripped the hem of Krystal’s shirt and yanked it over her head.

  “Now this I want to see.” Death suddenly appeared on the toilet tank, feet on the closed lid.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Casey said. “Give the woman some privacy.”

  “Like you’re giving her, you mean?”

  “She’s not exactly in her sex goddess state right now, so I don’t know what you’re even here for.”

  “A few days of bad hygiene and grief doesn’t change anatomy, my friend.”

  “I’m not your friend.” Casey concentrated on getting the rest of Krystal’s clothes off, trying not to smell the ripeness of her damp skin.

  “I’m sorry about going into your room,” Krystal said.

  “What?”

  “The other night.” She leaned close and whispered. “I went in to see if I could find out your secrets.” She frowned. “You didn’t have any.”

  Casey glanced at Death, but spoke to Krystal. “Was this just before you and Dylan came crashing into my office?”

  “Dylan.” Krystal giggled. “Yes, I saw him just after…I was mad I couldn’t find anything good in your condo. He was…he’s so cute.” She got so distracted she almost fell over.

  Casey kept her upright, glad to have the mystery solved of who’d snuck into her room. “Okay, Patterson, the water’s fine. Get in.”

  Krystal looked at the shower curtain, and Casey swept it aside. “In.” She grabbed Krystal’s elbow and helped her step over the side of the tub before shutting the curtain. She found a towel under the sink, and gestured for Death to get off the toilet so she could set the towel on the lid. “Come get me if she faints or drowns or anything, okay?”

  “What am I, your servant?”

  “Yes.”

  Death’s eyebrows rose.

  Casey sighed. “Please?”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

  Casey locked the apartment door behind her and ran down the stairs, getting to class just as the clock hit six.

  “Okay, ladies! Let’s wake up!”

  She blasted some loud music and put the class through the paces, until some of them had to stop, hands on their knees. Casey figured she’d better ease up, and spent the last twenty minutes on body shaping and abs. By the time seven rolled around, half of the women lay flat on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

  “See you tomorrow. ” Casey jogged out of the room and back up the stairs to Krystal’s place. She used Krystal’s key to get in, only to find Death sitting on the couch with a nametag that said, SuperNanny: Behave or Die. The torn petition pages lay spread out on the couch, where Casey had left them.

  “So I’ve been looking at the signatures I can see,” Death said. “I don’t recognize any of these names.”

  “Where’s Krystal?”

  “In bed. She got out of the shower after about twenty minutes, wrapped herself in a towel, and collapsed on top of her quilt.”

  Casey went back to the bedroom. It was exactly as Death had said. Casey figured she should let Krystal sleep, but couldn’t see letting her lie there in a wet towel. She found a fluffy pink robe in the closet, rolled Krystal out of the towel, and covered her with the robe. Her hair was still wet, but there was nothing Casey could do about that, except put a dry towel under her head.

  Casey went back to the living room and swiped up the torn petition pages, dropping onto the couch beside Death.

  “See?” Death said. “All strangers.”

  “That we know of. I’m not anywhere close to knowing the names of all the people in my classes.”

  “But you know your personal training folks. And a few others.”

  “Right.” Casey scanned the names, and saw that Death was right. Nobody she actually knew by name was on the list. A small but welcome development.

  Casey jumped up.

  Death jumped up, too. “What is it?”

  “Krystal’s daughter that we saw in the folder. Have you seen any evidence of her?”

  “Not in plain view.”

  Casey took a quick look through Krystal’s desk, kitchen drawers, and bedroom, not worried about waking the snoring occupant. There were no photos, birth certificates, or anything that would say Krystal had had a baby.

  “Not a crumb,” she said, back in the living room.

  “She doesn’t want anything to do with a kid,” Death said. “It’s obvious. She wants to have fun and land a rich husband.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Come on, Casey. It’s what women like her do. You don’t hear her advertising her motherhood, do you? Guys like Dylan wouldn’t come anywhere near her if they knew she had a child. They’d be scared to death. Not that her having a child would really kill them.”

  “Good men wouldn’t be scared off by a child.”

  “Good men don’t get involved with women like Krystal. At least, not the side of her she shows everyone. But maybe there’s another side. Think about it. She must’ve been in her teens when she had the baby. A teen who was nowhere near mature enough to raise a child. She’s not mature enough now.”

  “I guess.”

  “So now she’s distanced herself from her daughter to give the girl a chance at a traditional family. The girl looked happy in that photo, didn’t she?”

  She did. Happy and healthy. “Oh, no.” Casey looked at the clock on Krystal’s wall. “I gotta go. I’m late for Dylan.”

  Death smiled. “He’ll wait. He wants you bad.”

  Casey ran back downstairs, got what she needed from her office, and jogged into the weight room.

  Dylan was waiting, and slumped with obvious relief when she appeared. He twisted his towel in his hands. “I thought you were going to stand me up after…well, I was afraid I scared you off last night.”

  “It takes more than a guy asking me out to scare me off, Dylan. Sorry I’m late. Why don’t you jump on the treadmill.”

  “That’s it?”

  She looked up from the clipboard she’d grabbed in her office. “What else were you expecting?”

  “Aw, come on,” Death said from the closest exercise machine. “Look at the poor kid. He’s smitten. You’re hurting his feelings.”

  Casey propelled Dylan over to the cardio machines. “Dylan, I have another client in forty minutes. I want to get your workout in.”

  “But—”

  “I’m not mad at you, okay? I promise.”

  He straddled the treadmill, his feet on the sides. “I’m not worried about you being mad at me. I want to…Oh, forget it.” He punched the Go button
and began running.

  Casey closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. What was this thing with her and younger men? First Eric, in Ohio, although he wasn’t nearly the baby this one was, and she somehow thought his sexual experience—and morals, perhaps—were a bit more traditional.

  “Oh, no!” Dylan yanked the safety clip from the machine, and the tread jerked to a stop. Dylan’s water bottle, phone, and keys dropped to the floor with a clatter, and skidded away.

  Casey’s head snapped up to see Dylan staring with terror at something behind her. She spun around, ready to defend him. Then held back a laugh. It was Tamille.

  “Hey,” Casey said, relaxing.

  “Hey, yourself. Everything turn out okay last night, then?”

  “Sure. Thanks for understanding. I hope Sensei Asuhara wasn’t too upset that I left early.”

  “Nah. He’s not exactly the uptight type, as you could probably tell.”

  “He wasn’t what I was expecting, that’s for sure.”

  Dylan made a little whimpering sound and stayed behind Casey, his fingers clutching her upper arms so tightly she thought her circulation might cease.

  She looked at her watch, then over her shoulder at him. “You done already?”

  “I’m plenty warm.”

  “I’d say you’re plenty hot,” Tamille said, looking him up and down.

  Dylan groaned, and from what Casey could see, it was almost certainly from fear.

  “Tamille,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder, “this is Dylan. Dylan, Tamille.”

  Dylan attempted a smile, but it looked more like someone was stepping on his toes.

  “You Daisy’s little plaything?” Tamille reached over and pinched his biceps before nodding appreciatively. “Not so little, I guess.”

  Dylan gave a timid laugh. “No, I’m…I’m…”

  “He’s my client,” Casey said. “Personal training.”

  “Mmm-hmm. Well, when you get tired of her, Dylan, honey, you come find me, you hear?”

  Dylan swallowed so loudly Casey could hear it.

  “Come on, Tami,” Casey said. “You’re scaring the poor guy.”

  “Me? You’re the one he should be scared of. Or doesn’t he realize that?”

  “I haven’t told him yet.”

  Tamille narrowed her eyes as she studied Dylan’s face. “Hey, haven’t I seen you down in the bar, or somewhere? I know your face.”