going on around you. And last?”
“Hit ‘em where it hurts,” Krystal said.
Casey smiled. “Okay. That’s a good one. Let’s say that’s number four. Hit ‘em hard, somewhere soft. But what’s the last one? If you find yourself in danger, what is the best thing you can do to save yourself?”
The class was so quiet Casey could hear herself breathing.
“You run,” Andrea finally said.
“Exactly. Someone comes after you, you run. You run as fast as you can, and you don’t stop until you’re in a safe place. You got that?” She looked around the class, meeting each woman’s eye.
“We run,” Andrea said again, more confidently.
Casey nodded, and pounded her fist in her hand. “You run.”
Chapter Eight
The Flamingo, Palm, and Pelican were surprisingly quiet in the late hours. It was close to midnight, and Casey sat on her balcony, drinking unsweetened hot mint tea. There was a chill in the air, but not enough to send her back in for a sweatshirt. The pool was still, its surface like unbroken, bluish glass, but several people lounged in the hot tub. Their occasional laughter was the only thing Casey heard, other than the ocean lapping against the shore beyond the palm trees.
“You gotta admit,” Death said. “This is pretty darn nice.” Death now wore a dark red housecoat and black slippers, and was holding a glass of red wine.
“It is.” Casey took a deep breath of the sea air. “But I suppose I should go to bed. I have to get up in less than six hours for my Land of the Dead class.”
“You know,” Death said, “that’s really not very PC.”
Casey cocked an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“I mean, you wouldn’t let someone call a class the Land of the Japs, or the Land of the Spinsters.”
“That’s because those names would offend people. Who is the Land of the Dead going to offend? Dead people?”
Death sniffed. “I know you like to pretend I don’t exist, but really, Casey. Do you not see how that could bother me?”
“Do you not see how I don’t care?”
Death sat up suddenly. “Uh-oh.”
“What?”
“I gotta go.” And Death disappeared without a trace.
Casey swallowed. It wasn’t like Death to vanish like that, without an explanation. There must have been an emergency. A quick death somewhere. Casey didn’t want to think about it.
Yawning and stretching, she stood up and went inside, where she got ready for bed. She dressed in her workout clothes so she would be ready when her alarm went off. No reason to dirty pjs, when she would barely be in them. She brushed her teeth, washed her face, and lay down on her bed.
And couldn’t sleep.
She tossed and turned, wondering what her brother Ricky was doing. Was he still dating that woman she didn’t like? Was the catering business going well? Perhaps she should get him and Del together—but no, she couldn’t. What about Eric? Was he recovering from those events in Ohio? Did he ever think about their brief encounter in the back of the theater? Did he get as hot as she did, when he thought about it? And her lawyer, Don? Had he gotten in trouble for helping her?
Just how many lives had she screwed up?
She perched on the edge of her bed. Her brain was too busy for sleep. Her body was exhausted from leading so many classes that day. She needed something to occupy her mind. Someone to talk to. She couldn’t call Ricky. She couldn’t call Don. Or Eric. Not if she didn’t want to mess them up even more. She wasn’t about to call upon Death for conversation—she got more of that than she ever wanted. She looked at the clock. Twelve-thirty. Would Jack still be down in the bar? He’d said the bar closed at midnight, but she didn’t really want to mix with whatever drinkers were still hanging around after last call.
Finally, she decided to just take a look. If there were lots of people there, or Jack was gone, she’d find something else to do. Simple as that. She slid on the soccer slides she’d bought at the shoe store, and went down the service stairs toward the first level.
Down in the lobby, she peered around the corner. Only two people remained in the bar area, a man and a woman, sitting very close together at a corner table. Behind the counter, Jack was doing his usual cleaning—at least, all the times Casey had seen him, that’s what he’d been up to. She walked across the lobby and