Laurie must have decided not to talk with her, after all, or else she was just late. Well, she was going to be too late, since it was time for Casey’s next appointment. She went back into the weight room.
“You Daisy?” A stick-like girl, mid-teens, stood beside her, one ear plugged with an earbud. She held the other earbud in her hand, with her iPod strapped to her upper arm.
“That’s me.”
“I’m only doing this because Grandma said I have to, and because…well, never mind.”
“Because your Grandma wanted you to see what all the fuss was about over here?”
The girl made a face. “It’s all dumb, anyway.”
“I agree. So are you down here visiting your grandma, or do you live here?”
The girl rolled her heavily outlined eyes. “Do you really care?”
No. Not really.
Casey got the girl going on the treadmill, and was able to convince her to work half-heartedly on the weight machines, having to pull out an earbud every so often to make sure the girl could hear what she was saying. When she finally delivered the girl to her final cardio, she shook her head and looked around for client number two. He was the exact opposite of the girl in every way—huge, talkative, and determined to do every exercise imaginable. Casey pulled him back to a realistic routine, all the while marveling that a guy with thighs that big could walk around without wearing holes in the legs of his pants.
When four-thirty came she dragged herself up to her apartment, where she drank a Gatorade in about three swallows and took a long, hot shower.
Afterward, Death was standing in the hallway, dressed in a kimono.
Casey took a deep breath. “What are you doing?”
“Coming to Kyoto’s. Does this make me look fat?”
“It makes you look stupid.”
“I’m getting into the spirit of—”
“You’re not invited.”
“Of course I am.”
“Tamille didn’t invite you.”
“Only because she couldn’t see me. If she could see me, she would definitely have asked me to dinner. That girl and I, we would be like this.” Death held up crossed fingers.
“Anyway, we’re going to the bank first. Don’t you think you’re a little…overdressed?” Casey went back to her bedroom, where she chose some dark jeans, a light blue shirt, and a pair of sandals she’d picked out at the store. For once, she let her hair fall to her shoulders, instead of putting it back. She was about to leave when she remembered her phone. No point in having one if she left it hidden in her apartment all the time. She reached under her mattress to get it, then keyed in Binns’ phone number from her business card. She texted simply, “Here’s my number.”
There. Now Binns could find her any time, day or night. Just what Casey liked.
Death blinked when Casey went out to the living room. “Wow, who are you? I mean, look at you. You combed your hair and everything.”
“Will you shut up?” Casey grabbed her purse, yanked open the door, and froze. A shadow fell across the hallway, elongated by the light coming through the window at the end of the hallway. The shadow of a man. And at the end of his arm, the shadow of his hand held something long and thin, that looked exactly like a knife.
Chapter Nineteen
Casey swung into the hallway, grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted it back, bending him forward so he would drop what was in his hand.
“Who are you?” Casey said in his ear. “What do you want?”
“Casey,” Death said. “Stop. It’s—”
“It’s me. Dylan. Ouch.” Dylan waved his free hand frantically.
Casey let him go and took a quick step back.
Dylan straightened, rubbing his shoulder. “Is that part of our new fitness routine? Because wow, that hurt. A lot.”
“Sorry. I’m a little jumpy.” Jumpy? Maybe she should say, completely paranoid.
He winced, windmilled his arm, and rolled his neck. “Lesson learned. Always stay as far away from you as possible.”
“Why were you loitering in my hallway?”
“I was waiting.”
“For…?”
“Well, you, actually. I was getting up my nerve to knock on your door.”
“Told you he would be jumping your bones sooner or later,” Death said. “He needs an older woman to show him the ropes.”
“What do you want?”
“Well, I was going to ask if I could take you to dinner.” He knelt and picked up what he’d been holding. A single rose.
Casey shook her head. He’d brought her a flower, and she’d assumed it had been a deadly weapon. She’d misjudged the situation in a whole new way. Now that she