act like they knew anyone had been talking. It was a kind of existence Casey recognized. Just as when she’d seen them exit the taxi, she could feel their grief, and their utter, complete exhaustion.
“Sissy,” she said quietly. “They don’t want to hear this right now.”
Sissy slumped, the forced brightness evaporating in a heartbeat. She leaned against her desk and rubbed her forehead. “I know. What I don’t know is what to do with them.”
Casey traveled back to the days after her family’s accident, those first hours when she’d had no idea how exactly her life had changed, unable to bring herself to the present because of the battering pain that would find her. “Do you have access to Andrea’s apartment?”
“Yes. The police have already been through it.”
“Then I suggest you put them there, and try talking to them tomorrow. They’re exhausted. They’re in shock. They need somewhere to…to just be quiet.”
Sissy chewed on her lip. “Okay. Okay, we’ll do that.” She sidestepped to the door. “Maria!”
Maria appeared in the opening, much to Casey’s surprise. She hadn’t seen her when she’d passed through there. Casey sent a questioning glance toward Death, who shrugged. “Maybe she was hiding? She’s apparently gotten good at that. Just like some other people I know. Fake names. Illegal ID. You know the drill.”
“We’re going to put the Parkers in Andrea’s place,” Sissy said to Maria. “Can we get clean sheets on the bed?”
“Of course. The cops took the old ones, but I’m sure there’s another set. Give me a couple minutes.”
Sissy nodded and stepped back into the room, facing the Parkers. “We’re going to get you to bed now, okay?”
No response. Sissy looked helplessly at Casey.
“Go ahead,” Death said. “You’re good with damaged folks.”
Casey ground her teeth, but knelt in front of the Parkers. She put a hand first on Mrs. Parker’s knee, and then on her husband’s. Casey waited until the warmth from her hand seeped through the fabric of their pants, and they realized something had changed. Slowly, with small jerks, their heads turned toward her.
“We’re going to take you to Andrea’s apartment now,” Casey said. “You can get some sleep.”
Without a word, Andrea’s mother stood, and looped her purse over her arm. She stood there, unmoving, watching Casey for further instructions. Casey turned to Mr. Parker, peering up into his face. “Time to move, Mr. Parker.”
His eye twitched, and he pushed himself up, using the arms of the chair to get first into an upright sitting position, then finally into a standing one. Mrs. Parker clutched his right elbow, and Casey took his left.
Casey and the Parkers followed Sissy to the elevator, where the Up button glowed. Casey left them there for a few moments while she ran back to the office to grab their bags. Everyone was silent as they went up. Maria met them at Andrea’s door, which had several signs taped onto it, saying, “We’ll miss you,” or bearing the image of an angel.
A tissue-wrapped bouquet of flowers leaned against the doorjamb, and Maria scooped it up. “I’ve already brought in several of these. Most don’t even have names.”
Casey seated the Parkers in the living room, Mrs. Parker on the couch, her husband on an easy chair. The room was fragrant with flowers, which decorated Andrea’s table and windowsills, and even the floor, a testament to how much she was appreciated at the Flamingo. There had been floral arrangements at Reuben and Omar’s funeral, too. The blooms had ended up back at Casey’s house, because there was nowhere else to go with them. The funeral home didn’t want them. The church had taken one for the front of the sanctuary the next Sunday morning, but they had no need of twenty. So Casey’s home was filled with flowers. So many Casey had thought she would faint from the overwhelming odor.
She remembered another time, one of the many occasions she’d visited the place where the accident had happened, where Reuben and Omar had died in a ball of flaming gas. The scorched and muddied grass had healed, so Casey could see no sign of the horror that had happened there. A spray of wildflowers had grown up, small purple ones with pointy grayish-green foliage. She had wept at the sight of that beauty, spread over the spot where her own life had ended, along with her family’s.
What would happen if she were to die? If she were here in Florida, so far from her home, with no one to even