There was no way she’d be able to go back to sleep now.
“Well, that’s fine, I guess. Just…watch out for yourself, okay?”
“Okay. Thanks, Sissy.” Casey shut the door behind her.
“So I’m not sure what all that was,” Death said. “Accusation or warning?”
“Both.” Casey stood in the mouth of the hallway leading back to her bedroom. “She doesn’t really think I did it, but she’s feeling anxious because she made those bad hiring decisions in the past. She doesn’t want to get blamed for a resident’s death. Especially since she was letting Andrea use the exercise rooms after hours.”
“But she also doesn’t want you getting blamed for something you didn’t do.”
“Or getting hurt. I appreciate that.”
“If she knew your record with thugs, she might not worry so much.”
Casey shook her head. “Do you remember what my face looked like a week ago?”
“Oh. Right. I was going to call you Hamburger Face, but you were in such a bad mood I decided not to. Where are you going?”
“To take a shower.”
“Before your appointments? Won’t you just get all smelly again?”
“They’re the ones who will be doing the sweating. Not me. And until I shower I’ll still feel like I have Andrea’s blood on me.”
“I don’t see any. You changed your clothes, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but I still feel dirty. It’s not a good feeling.”
“Right. You want to be clean when you face everybody who’s after you.”
“Thanks. That’s very reassuring.”
“I do my best.”
Casey went into the bathroom and shut the door.
And locked it.
Chapter Fourteen
Casey’s afternoon appointments were with two older residents—one man and one woman. Neither one seemed as interested in working out as they were in Casey and the events of the past sixteen hours, but Casey pushed on, refusing to talk about anything but fitness and exercise routines. She wasn’t sure if she helped or hindered her own cause by not telling them what they wanted to know, but she would have felt sleazy if she’d used the sensationalism to secure her own reputation.
By the time four-thirty came around, she had to get out of the building. She pulled on a warm-up suit and headed downtown.
“Where are we going?” Death wore a Hawaiian shirt, Bermuda shorts, sandals, and sunglasses. All that was missing from the whole persona was a camera on a string.
“You know you’re not supposed to wear socks with sandals. It makes you look like a clueless tourist.”
“Of course I know that. If I look like a clueless tourist I’ll fit in. No one will think twice.”
“You mean that one-hundredth of a percent of people who actually see you. If it’s that many.”
“Every person matters, Casey. You know that. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Two places. First, I need to stop by the police department to sign my statement—”
“And see Gomez.”
“—and then I’m going to the mall. I need a phone.”
Death gave a little clap. “Get one of those new ones, with the big touch screen and the full keyboard.”
“I’ll get whatever’s cheapest.”
“Spoilsport.”
Death was disappointed to find that Gomez was not at the police station, having gone home for some sleep. Binns was also gone, so Casey reviewed and signed her statement with another officer, and was out of there in twenty minutes.
At the mall, Casey found the little booth with the phones, signed up for a two-year plan, and bought the smallest phone available. It looked like a square, but the top swiveled to make it into a rectangle.
“Good grief,” Death said. “Are you a junior high girl? Why go for the smallest one?”
“It has a full keyboard. I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Yes, but look at it. It’s about as big as a matchbox.”
“Which is great. Why do I need anything bigger?”
“Oh, forget it. You’re never going to fit in with the ways of the world.”
They meandered through the mall, Death pausing at every window to ooh and aah over the displays. Casey kept walking, making Death jog every so often to keep up. The only store she spent any time in was the bookstore, where she picked out a book on new yoga techniques. Death was pushing for her to get the book on tantric massage, but she refused.
“Who am I going to perform tantric massage on? No one. So what’s the point of spending the money?”
“I don’t know. Cops get very stressed out. I’m sure an officer could use a good massage after a hard day’s work.”
“I don’t think Detective Binns will be asking me over to rub her shoulders.”