talking about the ‘men at the top?’ This guy looks a little too big for his britches.”
He looked like a typical businessman, as far as Casey could tell. Clean-shaven, a little taller than Casey, a tiny paunch around the middle. His smile was too white, and his hair too dark for the age he seemed to be.
He set Casey’s teeth on edge.
“I’m a new customer,” Casey said, holding out her hand. “Geena was telling me about your bank.”
The manager shook her hand, his suspicious expression relaxing. His hand was soft, like he wouldn’t know manual labor if it hit him on the head. “We have customer service people specifically for that. Can I direct you to one of them?”
“No, thank you. Geena has been very helpful.”
“So you’ve opened an account?”
“We’ve done what we needed to today.” Casey smiled at Geena. “Thank you so much for everything. You’ve been very helpful.”
Geena nodded and scurried back to her window.
“She’s a very pleasant girl,” Casey said to the manager. “A good asset for your business.”
He looked like he’d swallowed an entire orange.
“Casey, darling?” Death said. “Times a-ticking. Somehow—stop me if I’m wrong—I don’t think we want to keep Tamille waiting.”
Casey thanked the bank manager and headed out. She had to wait, as someone else was coming in the door.
“Del?”
He squinted, moving from the brightness of the afternoon into the darker lobby. “Oh, Daisy.” He smiled, his eyes looking a little less tired than they had the day before. “Good to see you.”
“So you do your banking here?”
“Sure. It’s the closest to the Flamingo. Most of the residents have accounts here. At least those staying long enough to warrant the change from their hometowns. Were you here to open one?” He put a hand to his forehead. “Sorry. That’s none of my business.”
“I just asked you about your banking,” Casey said. “But anyway, I was checking it out. Haven’t made a decision yet.”
Del’s face clouded. “Andrea worked here. She was trying to push through a loan for me, to see if I could start my own business.”
“A restaurant?”
“Yes. We were looking at options, but nothing seemed to be working.”
“And now?”
“I’ll have to start over with someone new, won’t I?”
“I guess. Couldn’t Krystal help you?”
He opened his mouth, but seemed to think about his words, and changed course. “I don’t believe that’s her expertise. They’ll match me up with someone, I’m sure. So, you going out for dinner?”
“Kyoto’s.”
“Oh, that’s good stuff. You should enjoy it.”
“See you back at the Flamingo?”
“I’m sure you will. Goodnight, Daisy.”
“Goodnight.”
He held the door for her, and disappeared into the bank.
Chapter Twenty
Death was back in the kimono, although this time it had more embroidery, with yellow flowers from top to bottom. Casey hoped she herself was dressed all right. She never knew how to dress for dinner in a new town. But then, she’d never been all that concerned about her attire, and figured there was no reason to start just then.
“So Krystal is window dressing?” Death said as they walked. “While Andrea actually worked for a living?”
“I don’t know. But I can’t see their differing job descriptions being motives for murder. Hopefully her folder will give us a clue.” She watched a taxi go past, filled with young business-types, probably on their way to happy hour somewhere. None of them looked like they had a care in the world.
Death frowned, hesitating at the curb. “Could personal and small business loans be motive for murder?”
“You’re kidding, right?” Casey waited for the walk sign and headed across the street. “In this economic climate? People would kill for a minimum wage job, let alone money to keep their mom and pop store going.”
Death scurried after her. “Which means Del could have a motive. He just told us he was one of Andrea’s clients, and she couldn’t get his loan through. What if she wasn’t really trying to get him a loan? What if she turned him down for more than just a date?”
Casey didn’t like to think about huge, gentle Del using that strength for violence. But she would be remiss to toss the thought aside.
“Here we are.” Death stopped in front of a dark brick storefront. “Kyoto’s. Are you supposed to just go in, or wait for her?”
“Don’t know.” Casey stepped into the foyer and allowed her eyes a little time to adjust to the darkness. Soft, far eastern music surrounded her, and the odor of something delicious drifted past her nose.
“Good evening, miss.” A little woman in a kimono like Death’s,