“I was doing laundry,” she mumbled. “The phone rang and a woman said something had happened to Jeremy’s mother, and could I pick Jeremy up? It was so surreal.”
An accounting employee strolled into the room. Casey turned away. “Why would they call you?”
“I’m the emergency contact person on Jeremy’s registration form.” She blew her nose again. “He’ll miss her so much. Jasmine was a wonderful mother.”
A wonderful mom and a church-going woman who baked cookies? This wasn’t the Jasmine that Casey had known. “Stan said that someone saw a van leave the scene.”
“Another parent showed up early. It was so awful. Her head . . .” Marie’s voice cracked. “Destroyed.”
Casey inhaled sharply. “She was shot in the head?”
“Yeah.” She sniffed. “There was blood running down the door and bits of . . .” Marie choked back a sob.
“Oh no, you saw her? Did you have to identify the body?”
“No, the tarp on the car wasn’t fastened down, and the wind lifted it.”
“Oh, Marie.”
“What am I supposed to say when Jeremy wakes up for his nap and asks for her? He’s only two, for shit’s sake.”
She wished she knew the answer. “If there’s anything I can do, let me know.”
“Could you take some of Jasmine’s pets? She has—had—a lot. Wanted to be a vet.”
“Actually, Summer’s dog has the run of the house and he doesn’t play well with others. What about the SPCA?”
“They’re swamped. Can’t you keep the smaller ones a few days until I find them homes? They’ll be in cages.”
“They aren’t lizards or snakes, by any chance?”
“Gerbils, hamsters, and guinea pigs. I’ll take her cat and dog.”
Casey propped her elbows on the desk. “I don’t have any experience with rodents.”
“All you do is feed and water them, which her landlord’s doing until we get them. I’ll let you know when.” She hung up. No thank you, or goodbye, or thanks for phoning.
Stan stepped out of his office, his face still flushed and grim. “I’d like everyone’s attention,” he called out. “Could you all come down here a minute?” He turned to Casey. “You can go, if you want.”
She couldn’t bear to hear it again, to see their faces. Casey grabbed her things, hurried out of the room, and didn’t stop until she reached her Tercel.
As she opened the door, Roberto stepped out of his Corvette two stalls from her, and grinned. “Where are you off to, sweetie?”
“The library. Have to research something for school.”
“Is Jasmine around?”
Oh, hell. “No.” She scrambled to change topics. “Your coveralls look too clean for the middle of the day. Are you just starting?”
“Yeah, I had a bloody root canal.” He glanced around the depot. “The place looks deserted. Where is everyone?”
“Working, I guess. Lunch is over.”
Roberto watched her. “You look totally stressed. What’s up?”
“It’s a bad day.”
“Why, what happened?”
Casey stifled a groan. “Your supervisor will tell you.”
“Has there been an accident?” His eyes narrowed. “Did someone get hurt?”
“Yes.” She slipped behind the wheel.
“Casey, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to.” She started the engine.
“Casey?”
“I’ve been told not to say anything, Roberto. The news is supposed to come from supervisors. I’m really sorry.”
She felt guilty for leaving him looking worried and confused, and she was ashamed for not having the guts to tell a friend the truth.
• • •
CASEY RETURNED TO Mainland two hours later, frustrated by the wasted trip. All she could think about was Jasmine’s death, the contradictions in her personality, and her son. It was hard to understand someone who could slap a child and mouth off to a colleague one day, yet bake cookies for Mainland staff on another. And why had Jasmine gone out of her way to help Marie hook up with Lou without bothering to find out what he wanted?
Stepping onto the bus, she saw Lou’s sullen face. “You’ve heard?”
He nodded. Despite last night’s lovemaking, there’d been uneasiness between them when Lou left for work this morning. She wasn’t sure if the problem was Summer’s behavior or her jealousy over Jasmine’s scheme to bring Lou and Marie together. She’d been too tired and demoralized over yesterday’s events to talk it over. Small wonder that superficial conversation had filled the blank spaces where heartfelt words should have gone.
Lou eased the M10 out of the depot.
“Marie asked me to take some of Jasmine’s pets,” she said.
His silence was no surprise. Lou rarely spoke when he was upset, and seeing as how he’d gotten along with Jasmine, her death obviously hit him hard. Casey placed her hand on his shoulder. He reached up and squeezed her fingers.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Stunned.”
“How did the drivers take the news?”
“Most are in shock. Some act like they don’t care.”
He pulled up to the first stop, where four people prepared to board. Casey held onto the pole behind his chair and waited for Lou to merge back into traffic before she said, “The police will want to talk to Roberto and Wesley, and anyone else she was seeing. Do you know if she went out with other guys?”
“Just Marie’s brother, Noel.”
“Really?” Typical of Marie not to mention it. “Wesley said something kind of disturbing last night. Apparently, some married guys had hit on Jasmine. Do you know if any of them were from work?”
“Only one that I heard of.”
“Who?”
He didn’t respond right away. “Eisler.”
“Our snobbish VP who’s barely left his office in two years? I’ve never even seen him acknowledge Jasmine.”
“He wouldn’t in front of people. Jasmine said he called her a few times. She was afraid he’d fire her for rejecting him.”
So, she’d confided in Lou? Jealousy flitted through Casey until she realized how childish it was.
“I don’t know if it stopped,” he added, “but Marie said that Eisler’s wife started phoning him at work more than usual, and making surprise visits to his office.”
“How does Marie know this?”
“She’s friendly with Eisler’s admin assistant.”
How many private conversations had Marie and Lou shared? Casey looked out the window as Lou pulled up to the warring kids’ stop.
“The tweens look more miserable than usual,” Lou said.
Casey removed her ID from her pocket, shoved thoughts of Jasmine aside, and prepared to do her job.
FIVE
CASEY SQUIRMED IN HER CHAIR at the back of the lunchroom as red-eyed colleagues shuffled in. Some women dabbed their eyes and hugged one another. A few guys looked pale and scarcely made eye contact with anybody. Grief was a solo act for a lot of men. Most of the guys she knew didn’t seek hugs during tough times, they sought solitude. A handful of Mainland’s employees showed no emotion at all. Was it an act, or apathy?
Roberto trudged into the room, shoulders slouched, face bewildered. He slumped into a chair near the front. Casey clasped her hands on the tabletop as two women from accounting and human resources approached.
“It’s so sad, Casey,” one said to her.
“Yes.”
“Terrible,” the other added. “I didn’t really know her, but she seemed nice.”
Casey’s shame deepened. She couldn’t think of a kind thing to say about Jasmine; didn’t share their level of grief.
While the women moved on, Lou arrived and took the seat she’d saved for him “You okay?” he asked. “Your face is all red.”