Flowers for Her Grave - By Judy Clemons Page 0,104
this place, and Casey’s true identity would be discovered. And not when Casey could bring down this woman with a few well-aimed strikes.
“What do you want?” Sissy screeched.
Casey was confused. “Nothing. I don’t want anything.”
Sissy’s face darkened. “Oh, sure. That’s what your little stunt with the folders tells me. Oh, yes, the women called me. I suppose my folder is tucked under my apartment door, too?”
“Actually, I put it in your office.”
“Of course. The women said you’d been around. They all sounded so happy that you were there, handing the information back, saying we’re all free. Photos. Newspaper articles. Bank accounts. Until tomorrow. Who are you going to tell then, Daisy? How soon will you be making your demands? Why can’t you people just leave us alone? First…” She swallowed loudly. “First Brandon. Now you. Can’t a woman just start over? Do it right the second time?”
“Sissy, I gave the folders back so you could destroy them. I’m not going to use them against you.”
Sissy’s face crumpled, her gun hand dropping slowly toward the floor. Casey made sure she had her balance and took a step closer, getting in range to grab Sissy’s arm. Sissy swung her hand up, the gun barely missing Casey face. Casey stumbled backward, tripped over a pillow, and fell.
“You’re just like him, aren’t you? You could let it go, allow me to move on, but you won’t. You want to drain me dry. Why? Why can’t you just let me be?”
Casey scooted back, crab-like, until she was at her balcony door. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea to stay instead of bolting out the door. She was tired. Tired of thinking, and tired of tragedy. And now she was tired and trapped. If she could just get the sliding door open, she could roll out. She’d seen that first day how she could swing to a neighboring balcony, and escape. There was no way Sissy could follow, in her state, and it would be much harder to shoot a target swinging from one balcony to another. Casey reached up toward the handle of the door, remembering too late the dowel rod in the sliding track which would keep the door from opening.
“Don’t move!” Sissy screamed. “Please…please don’t move.” She sobbed and lurched forward, the gun just out of Casey’s reach. “Where are your copies? I couldn’t find them when Brandon lived here, either—where do you people hide your dirty, awful papers?”
“Sissy, I swear, I’m not blackmailing you. I don’t have my own copy. I gave you the only one.”
“But I thought I’d already destroyed the only one. And then you come at me with another.” She shuddered. “I’m sure she knew where it was. But she wouldn’t tell me, either.” Her eyes were wild. “So I made sure she couldn’t tell anyone anymore. She couldn’t be in it with him. Not for one more day.”
Casey’s breath hitched. “Who are you talking about, Sissy?”
“Andrea, of course, the little slut. Taking my man. Taking Brandon. My sweet Brandon.”
“But Brandon was blackmailing you.”
“No, not once he got to know me. He gave me what he had on me. Told me to burn it. And I did. She must have had another copy. But now it’s too late to know. I should have waited.”
“Sissy. What did you do to Andrea? Did you…are you the one who killed her?”
Of course Maria hadn’t done it. That solution had felt wrong all along. Richie and Andrea had promised to help her. And Maria had gotten Richie and Andrea together in the first place. Richie loved Andrea. It wasn’t a love triangle. It was a triangle of friends.
Maria hadn’t killed Andrea.
The cops were chasing after an innocent woman.
A tear rolled down Sissy’s cheek. “Andrea took my man.”
Sissy’s gun hand again sank toward the floor as she cried. Casey slowly tipped up onto her feet, into a squat position. “Sissy, you did all that planning to get Andrea? The security cameras, and Maria’s key?”
The gun rose again. “That was all easy. Maria keeps an extra key in her desk, and our security isn’t exactly high tech. I just wanted to talk to Andrea. To tell her Brandon was mine. That he wasn’t going to blackmail me anymore, so she should forget him.”
Casey balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to spring up at the first opportunity. “So you lured Krystal away from the aerobics room. You sent her a fake note from the guard.”