Flowers for Her Grave - By Judy Clemons Page 0,16

two pick-ups with the Flamingo emblem on the side.

They ended up on the private beach, where Casey breathed in the salty air and looked down the shoreline toward the marina on one side, complete with a restaurant over the water, and a line of condos down the other. The water was clear, the sand was white, and Casey didn’t know what she did to deserve this opportunity.

“Job’s not yours yet,” Death reminded her. Death now wore a bright blue bathing suit with Hawaiian flowers, a visor, and shades, and sat on a lounge chair under an umbrella.

Casey held her hand over her eyes and looked toward the horizon, watching as two sailboats moved smoothly toward each other. “What a beautiful place.”

Maria sighed heavily. “It is. Most of the time.”

Casey was going to ask what she meant, but when she turned to say the words, Maria was already on her way back to the Flamingo.

Chapter Six

Casey spent the evening in her over-priced hotel room going over plans for classes. The schedule for the next few days would include a dizzying array of sessions, including Pilates, step, low and high impact aerobics, abs, body sculpting, BODYPUMP, Zumba, circuit training, yoga, boot camp, and senior exercise. Sissy had decided to wait on any individual personal training until Casey actually had the position. There had been a day in the past Casey could have taught every one of the classes in her sleep, but with all that had happened the last year and a half, it was like returning to another very foggy world.

Casey also went shopping, and invested in some workout ensembles. From what she’d seen at the Flamingo, her usual shorts and T-shirt wouldn’t cut it, and her Dobak wasn’t conducive to all-day exercise. Casey avoided the skin-tight Spandex, opting for gym shorts and tank tops, which were a bit colorful, but would do the job. If Sissy actually hired her, she would find something more her own style. She did, however, get a new pair of cross-trainers, which she could use no matter what happened.

“So, what do you think?” Death asked.

Casey was in one of Reuben’s old, over-sized T-shirts, and lay in the very comfortable, very cozy bed. Her eyes had just begun to close when Death jerked her back awake. “About what?”

“The Flamingo. The job. Sissy’s clothes.” Death lay on the far side of the king-size bed in a nightshirt like the one Scrooge would’ve worn. All that was missing was the cap.

“The Flamingo itself isn’t quite my thing, but the job would be great, for a while, anyway.”

“And Sissy’s clothes?”

“She seems nice. And professional.”

“But the clothes, Casey, the clothes are hideous.”

“Personal choice, L’Ankou.”

“Right. I need to remember who I’m talking to. You’re not exactly Fashion Central.”

“I never asked you.”

“But what about the last two instructors? Aren’t you curious?”

“About their clothes?”

“About what happened to them. What exactly they did. Who the woman was who put the last guy in her will. And what if there were others?”

“They’re gone, okay? That’s all I care about. The residents have a clean slate, as far as I’m concerned.”

“But the last two guys were scoundrels. At least the one was. The one before him was just unqualified.”

“Goodnight.”

“Okay, fine. But can you at least turn on the TV?”

Casey pulled the covers over her head, and Death gave up.

Five-thirty rolled around awfully early, but Casey was ready. She wasn’t surprised to find herself alone as she drove to the Flamingo. Death wasn’t exactly a morning person. Or spirit. Or whatever.

She signed in with the Flamingo’s guard and walked across the empty lobby. The bar was closed, of course, with no sign of Jack. The shop on the other side of the room looked just ready to open, and the smell of coffee and muffins wafted across the air, making Casey’s stomach rumble.

Casey arrived in the aerobics room fifteen minutes early, but already a group was forming. All women, and all of the age they would be heading out to work before eight. They eyed Casey with a look of half appraisal, half defiance, so Casey smiled and behaved in as non-threatening a manner as she could. According to Death, women weren’t always excited to be around her, either because of her low body fat percentage, or because she could beat the crap out of them.

Casey thought perhaps the woman she’d seen in the lobby that first day would show, but no one who entered came even close to her stature and presence. Casey was disappointed, but

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