know?” She grabbed Dylan’s arm. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere with a little more class.”
“Like one of their condos, perhaps?” Death snickered. “Or somewhere a little more private, like the lobby?”
“Wait.” Dylan looked at Casey. “What petition?”
“Ask your girlfriend here.”
“She’s not my—”
“I’m not his—”
Casey held up her hand. “Whatever she is. Ask her about the petition.”
He turned to Krystal, and she pointed at Casey. “That…that woman killed Andrea!”
Dylan blinked. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why else do you think she came to the Flamingo? She knows about fighting, and is stronger than any of us, and—”
“You know about fighting?” Dylan looked at Casey.
Casey shrugged. “I taught the women a self-defense class last night. Maybe that’s what she’s referring to.”
“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Krystal spat. “I saw you.”
“You saw me what?”
“Doing some kind of martial arts workout last night. Late. Just before you ‘found’ Andrea.”
“You were on the fitness floor right then? I wonder if Detective Binns knows that.” And if that was the noise Casey had heard, rather than the door in the locker room. That would make more sense, time-wise.
Krystal inhaled sharply. “Of course she knows. She has the security footage. She could see me plain as day. I’d just gone down to check on Andrea, but figured since you were there, Andrea would be safe.”
“Right. And you know, Binns could also see me on the security footage. And knows I didn’t do it.”
Krystal’s mouth went up and down before clamping shut. “You can say whatever you like. I know you killed Andrea, and I’m going to prove it.”
“By making up evidence? Because that’s what you’re going to have to do.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find something. And you’ll be sorry you ever came to Florida.”
“Believe me, I already am.”
Krystal spun around and stalked out of the office, back through the men’s locker room. The office door stayed wide open behind her.
“Sorry about that,” Dylan said.
“Not your fault.”
“Well, I mean about barging in on you and…well…”
“Yeah, that is your fault. You’d better get after her or your date’s going to be over.”
Dylan shook his head. “It wasn’t a date. She just…she was stalking through the lobby, all mad about something, and ordered me to follow her. I haven’t gone out with her for almost three weeks. How could I say no?”
How about by saying the word? N. O. “Whatever it was, date or not, you’d better hustle if you want to catch her.”
“She’s long gone already. Tonight is way over.” A thoughtful look came over his face. “But maybe if I send her flowers tomorrow she’ll consider seeing me again.” He turned toward the door.
“Sure. You do that. Send her flowers. But you know what might up your chances even more?”
He hesitated in the doorway. “You got ideas, I’m listening.”
“Sign her little petition to have me kicked out. That should gain you some brownie points.”
“Yeah, but then I’d feel bad.”
“Because you don’t think I did it?”
“Because I like you.”
“I’m not going to bed with you Dylan.”
He grinned. “Not yet.”
“Get out of here.”
He laughed, and closed the door behind him.
“Krystal was down here watching me,” Casey said. “Right before I found Andrea. What was she doing here? And where did she go?”
Death looked thoughtful. “Came back to check on Andrea, like she said? Forgot something she left behind?”
“I wonder. I’ll have to check with Binns to make sure she knows Krystal was here. And to see if maybe I’d heard Krystal in the hallway instead of someone in here.”
Casey turned out the light and headed back into the women’s locker room. She paused at the shower stall where she’d found Andrea. “I wish I’d been just a few minutes earlier, L’Ankou. I could’ve…” She raised her hands toward the curtain, then let them drop.
“You don’t know that, hon. A few minutes earlier and it might’ve been you getting killed, too.”
“Maybe so. Maybe I used up all my luck the last couple of weeks in Ohio and Kansas. All those cuts and bruises were just foreplay.”
“Well, you’ve been wanting to go home with me. I suppose this could have been your chance.”
Casey pictured the blood on the floor, and the fear Andrea must have felt as she lay on the cold tile, her attacker standing above her, beating her, ripping her skin, crushing her insides.
“It could have been my chance,” she finally said. “But I don’t think I want a chance like that.”
Chapter Sixteen
Someone had been in Casey’s apartment. She could feel it. She held out her arm, as if she could