They only thing for sure in the whole matter was that Casey’s family was dead.
Casey clicked out of the browser and sat for a moment, staring at the blank screen. Finally, she shook herself, retrieved her driver’s license from Stacy, and went outside. Two teenaged boys sat bent over a book on the bench where Death had been waiting. Casey took a peek at their book as she went past, but couldn’t see what they were reading, other than the colorful illustrations of a graphic novel.
At least they weren’t playing some awful electronic gardening game.
Death was nowhere to be seen, so Casey made her way down the street to Home Sweet Home, where she retrieved her bike. She was beginning to get hungry, but really didn’t want to go back to the diner. She rode to The Nesting Place, parking the bike by the garage.
“Ever thought about why they don’t drive the Orion?” Death peered through the side window of the building.
“Of course. Have you?”
Death shrugged. “Gas guzzler.”
“I’m sure that’s a big reason.”
“You think there are others?”
“Probably. The main one being it’s from Karl. They obviously hate the man, even if he is family.”
“What about the money?”
“What money?”
“That it took to buy that thing. That vehicle represents a huge chunk of change.”
Casey shook her head. “I hate it when you talk like that.”
“Like what?”
“Slang. You should be using Old World English.”
“I’m as contemporary as I am old-fashioned, love.”
“Don’t call me that.” She turned away and walked toward the house on the stone path. “Anyway, they use other things he gives them. Like the TV.”
Death followed her. “True. But the Orion’s worth a lot more. Shouldn’t they sell it and use the money for HomeMaker’s unemployed?”
Casey stopped abruptly, but rather than bumping into her, Death strode right through her. Casey shivered. “Don’t do that.”
“You’re the one who stopped.”
“Anyway…” Casey looked back toward the garage. “What if there’s some reason they can’t sell it?”
“Such as?”
“It’s still in his name?”
“That would work. But why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. In case he wanted it back he could just take it.”
She turned back toward the house and squeezed past Death, not wanting to step off the path into the vegetation. “I’m hungry. I’m going in.”
Death gazed at the back of the house with a smirk.
“What?”
“Never mind. Go ahead. I’ll see you soon.”
Rosemary was in the laundry room, a cup of coffee in her hand, staring out the back window.
“Hey, Rosemary. You okay?”
“What? Oh, sure, I’m fine. What did you and Eric discover?”
Casey’s stomach rumbled. “Would it be all right if I grabbed something to eat while I told you? You can add food cost to my bill.”
“Of course, darling. Let’s find you some lunch.” She hesitated. “Do you want to invite your friend to join us?”
Casey froze. “What friend?”
Rosemary gestured toward the back yard, where Death still stood, smirking at the window.
“You can…you can see someone out there?”
Rosemary sighed. “Yes. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”
Casey closed her eyes, suddenly dizzy. “What about Lillian? Won’t she care?”
“Oh, Lillian’s not here. And she wouldn’t care, anyway. She can’t see…that.”
Casey shook her head.
“Go ahead,” Rosemary said. “I’ll get something ready.” She swept into the kitchen.
Casey opened the back door. “I don’t want this.”
Death smiled and walked into the house. “Of course you don’t. But Rosemary is desperately interesting.”
“She doesn’t seem to like you very much.”
“She’ll warm to me.”
Casey wasn’t so sure.
“Here you go,” Rosemary said as they walked in. “I hope a turkey sandwich with tomato and lettuce is okay.”
“Sounds great,” Casey said.
“Divine,” Death said. “Are they your own tomatoes?”
Casey rolled her eyes.
“They are,” Rosemary said. “You can tell, can’t you? But then, I guess you can see most things.”
“Oh, I’m still learning about vegetables.”
That launched them into a conversation about gardening, and mulch, and the benefits of chicken or cow manure, while Casey chewed her sandwich, silently swearing at Death. Could she not even eat in peace now?
“So, Casey,” Rosemary said. “You were going to tell me what you and Eric discovered.” She glanced at Death, her eyes half-lidded. “I assume you know all about it?”
Death nodded, watching Casey with what one might construe as innocence.
Casey glared at Death and told Rosemary about Aaron’s identification of the parts, HomeMaker’s faulty inventory, and Jack’s recognition of the dryer latch. She ended with her unhelpful trip to the library.
“So we really don’t know much, do we?” Rosemary said.
“Not enough.”
Death pointed at Casey with a potato chip. “I think she should go talk to the banker.”
“Todd?” Casey shook her head. “He’s not going to tell me anything about HomeMaker’s money.”
“What if it’s not about money?”
“What else would it be about?”
“We do have another mystery to solve, don’t we? Not just about the unidentified appliance part?”
“Something that has to do with Todd?”
“Something that has to do with Ellen and Todd.”
“You mean—” She stopped, remembering Todd’s glowing ears when she’d mentioned Ellen, as well as his fury on Ellen’s footage. She looked at Rosemary. “What do you know about Todd’s marriage?”
Rosemary fussed with some breadcrumbs on her plate, pressing them down with a finger, then putting them to her mouth. “I don’t know much.”
“But what you do know?”
“They’ve been married a long time. They have three daughters.”
Casey waited. That was the easy stuff. Even she knew those things. “Did he like Ellen?”
“Of course he did. Everyone did.”
“You know what I mean.”
Rosemary sighed. “I think so. At least, Eric didn’t like the attention Todd paid to her. Todd had even begun working at Home Sweet Home.”
“He doesn’t any more.”
“No. He’d stopped soon before she…” She swallowed. “Before she died.”
“Did she return his feelings?”
Rosemary looked at Casey, her face grim. “I don’t know. She didn’t tell him to get lost, which she should’ve. She was too nice for that.”
“Would she have told him anything about HomeMaker? About what she thought she’d found?”
“I really can’t see…” She shook her head. “She didn’t even tell Eric. She wouldn’t have told Todd. I’m sure of it.”
Casey wasn’t. What if there was a reason for her to tell him? Like money issues for HomeMaker? Or as a trade-off for something else Ellen needed to know?
Casey looked at Death. “I still don’t see how going to talk with him will help. He’s not going to tell me anything about HomeMaker’s finances or Ellen. Unless he thinks I know already.”
Rosemary stopped, her arm halfway across the table, reaching for Casey’s empty plate. “Why would you know things like that?”
Casey snorted. “People are suspicious of me. Thomas Black thinks I’m a spy or something worse, and is convinced I’m here to ruin his life.” She remembered Taffy and Bone, the men in the theater, and shivered.
Rosemary snatched Casey’s silverware and clicked it onto the plate. “Thomas is doing a good enough job of ruining his life on his own. Messing around with Karl’s new trophy wife…” She stood, pushing back her chair with a loud scrape.
“Lonnie didn’t seem to think there was anything going on with them.”
Rosemary dumped Casey’s dishes in the sink. “I hope he’s right.”
Casey stretched, wondering how she could be feeling so tired when she’d slept so late.