there was no record of her returning to the building after she left at five.”
Casey tried to take it all in. “What about the camera in the other hallway? The one on the men’s locker room door?”
“Sabotaged. It looks like someone used Vaseline to smear it. We get only the up close view of a gloved finger over the lens about two minutes before someone enters the men’s locker room at twelve twenty-two. Then we get another blurred image of a person leaving the same locker room fourteen minutes later.”
“That early? Are you sure? I heard someone when I was there, around one. That’s why I went into the locker room in the first place.”
“We’re sure.”
“And you couldn’t tell who it was? Nothing about size? Tall? Short? Fat? Whether it was a man or a woman?”
Binns shook her head. “Or even if it’s the same person both times. It’s like a fun house mirror. The Vaseline created a lens that couldn’t properly register correctly what it was seeing. Plus, the picture is black and white, and the only lights in the hallway were the nighttime security bulbs, which didn’t offer a lot of illumination. We have our technicians working on it, of course, but I don’t hold out a lot of hope.”
Casey smacked the arms of her chair. “If only I’d been a few minutes earlier I would’ve heard something happening. I could’ve stopped it.”
“You can’t be sure of that.” Binns’ voice was gentle.
Casey sat back and exhaled. “So now what? Do you have anything to go on?”
“Frankly,” Binns said, “you would be my number one suspect, if it weren’t for the technology.”
“And Andrea’s statement.”
Binns’ lip twitched upward. “Right. New girl in town, known by no one, I’d almost think you came to town for just this reason. Although if that were so, you’d be across the border into Georgia by now.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“I know.” She sighed loudly and put her notebook away. “It would’ve made it a lot easier if you had.”
A knock came on the door, and the male cop from the waiting room stuck his head in. He looked very somber.
“What is it?” Binns said.
“Andrea Parker.” He paused. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Eleven
Casey’s head spun, and she grabbed her chair. No. No!
“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Death stood just inside the room, cradling Andrea’s soul. “All that stuff I said about wanting it to be over…I didn’t mean it.”
Casey launched from the chair toward the door, toward Death. “You don’t care! All you care about is yourself, and your job.” She made quotation marks in the air. “You don’t even think about the people themselves. Who they leave behind. Who they were.”
The officer in the doorway paled. “I…I do. I think about them all the time.”
“What?” Casey blinked, her eyes focusing on the man in blue. “No. Not you.”
Gomez held her arm, and Binns got between Casey and the officer in the doorway, looking straight into Casey’s face. “Ms. Gray, I know this has been a shock to you. This whole night has. Maybe you should sit down.” Gomez tried to guide Casey to a chair, but Casey pulled away, her hands on her face.
“Officer,” Binns said to the man in the doorway. “Why don’t you leave us for a bit?”
“But I didn’t—it’s not true what she—”
“Not your fault. She’s obviously not well. Gomez and I have it under control.”
The officer backed out and shut the door.
“I’m sorry,” Casey said from under her hands. “I know it’s not his fault. I didn’t mean to take it out on him.”
“He’ll be all right.”
Casey leaned her forehead against the wall and took several deep breaths. When she’d calmed herself, she turned around, avoiding Gomez’ eyes and backing away from him. “I’m okay. I’m sorry.”
“I need to talk with the doctor,” Binns said. “And you need to go home.”
“There’s nothing else I can do?”
Binns gave a little smile. “The best thing you can do for anybody is rest, and get your head together. I’ll have Officer Gomez here take you back to your place.”
Gomez. Not him. Casey couldn’t take a Reuben look-alike right then. But it wasn’t like they were giving her a choice. Casey averted her eyes from him and walked through the door Binns held open. They went down the little hall to the waiting room, where Krystal perched on the end of the couch, a pillow clutched to her stomach. She sat completely still, except for the tears that ran down her cheeks.