like that. I’m not quite there yet. Until then, I just entertain my friends and co-workers.” He brightened. “How ‘bout I cook for you?”
“I’d love that.”
“Tomorrow night. My place. Six-o’clock. You can do that, right?”
“I have class at eight, so I can’t stuff myself.”
He pretended to be offended. “You do not stuff yourself with gourmet cooking.”
“Oh,” Casey said. “So sorry.”
“You should be.”
He left, and Casey regarded her bags, suddenly weary.
“So.” Death sat on the sofa, wearing black Adidas warm-ups and sneakers, which rested on the coffee table. “Time to make yourself at home. If you can, with this musty smell in here.”
“It smells fine.” Casey shook herself out of her stupor and took another tour of the apartment. There wasn’t a lot to see. The bedroom was just big enough for the bed, a dresser, and a fairly large closet. The one window was a decent size, but too small for a quick exit, especially with its double panes and heavy-duty screen. The bathroom had a tub and shower, and no window. The locks on both the bedroom and bathroom doors were flimsy, doorknob buttons, easy to bust with a sharp kick. Not reassuring.
The living room held the most possibilities of escape, with two possible exits. The regular door, of course, with a deadbolt and the doorknob lock, and the sliding glass door that led onto the little balcony. There was an okay lock on that, plus a thick wooden dowel in the track at ground level. Casey took up the dowel and stepped outside to look around. Being on the third floor, the jump to the ground would be impossible without fracturing bones. But there was another balcony beside her, within jumping distance, and one on the floor below she could probably reach if she dangled from her own and swung over.
But then, she’d never have to do that, right? She was Daisy Gray, who had no police record of any kind, and absolutely no enemies.
The pool had only two people in it now, who seemed more interested in each other than in actually swimming. Casey looked away, not wanting to spy. And not wanting to think about what it would feel like to have a man’s hands on her wet skin as she floated in the pool on a hot day…
She went back into her condo and unpacked her bags, able to fill only two dresser drawers. She kept her backpack stuffed with essentials for a quick escape, should one be necessary—money and paperwork, her old ID, her treasures, and some toiletries and clothes—and stashed it on the far side of the couch in the air-conditioning vent. It might mean her living room would get hot, but it was better than having someone discover her real name.
The kitchen was her final stop, and while there were dishes and pots and pans, there was nothing to actually eat.
“Shopping trip,” she said.
Death waved a hand. “But you sent the car away.”
“There’s a supermarket within walking distance. I’m going. Why don’t you go, too?”
“I’d love to!”
“I mean, go somewhere that’s not with me. Food shopping isn’t very exciting. Especially if I go to the Whole Foods store.”
Death made a face. “You’re right. See you.” Death disappeared in a cloud of vanilla-scented smoke, which did help to dampen the smell of mothballs.
Casey trotted down the stairs to the lobby, where the bar was now open. Already a few people, still in work clothes, stood beside high tables, or sat on tall stools. Jack, the bartender, was wiping the counter with a cloth, at least ten feet away from the closest customers.
Casey angled toward him, and he looked up as she approached, his lips twitching into that same amused grin she’d seen when she’d first noticed him. “Get you something?”
“No, thanks. Just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Daisy. New fitness instructor.”
He smiled bigger, actually showing a few teeth this time. “Prettier than the last two. But then, that’s not saying much.”
Casey laughed. “Thanks, I guess.”
“I’m Jack, but then, you probably know that already.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Yeah.” He wiped another non-existent smudge off the counter. “The Flamingo’s like a small town. News travels fast, and it’s impossible to keep a secret.”
“Jack!” Somebody down the line rapped a knuckle on the counter. “Get me a refill?”
Jack pointed at Casey. “Be right back.”
She watched him receive the order from the man and fill two glasses before inputting something in the cash register. He topped off the pretzel bowl and sauntered back her way. “Sure I can’t get you