Andrea liked a variety of magazines, which lay on the coffee table, from Cosmo to Newsweek to financial rags, all bought off the rack, and she had several novels stacked on the end table by the sofa, dog-eared and bookmarked with scraps of paper. The kitchen held only food and the things necessary to make and eat it, and the bathroom brought no surprises.
Casey peeked out at the living room, but the Parkers hadn’t moved.
“We really should go.” Maria had come further into the apartment now, and indicated the open door.
Casey went into Andrea’s bedroom. The bed was all done up in clean sheets, and clothes were piled neatly in a laundry basket. The closet held clothes, too, as well as shoes and a suitcase. The trash can had been emptied—probably by the cops—and there was no journal on or in the bedside table. Casey felt between the mattress and the box springs, and looked under the bed.
“Ms. Gray.” Maria stood in the doorway of the bedroom.
“Yeah, I’m done.” Casey followed her out to the living room and perched on a chair beside Andrea’s mother. “I can’t find his information right now, Mrs. Parker. We’ll continue looking and see if we can find him for you, okay?”
Mrs. Parker gave her a wobbly smile. “Thank you, dear. Thank you.”
Casey and Maria said goodnight and stepped into the hall, closing the door.
“So you didn’t know about this engagement?” Casey asked.
Maria’s mouth compressed into a thin line. “Andrea never showed a public preference for any one man. She hung out with different men, you know, just like…” She waved her hands.
“Like Krystal.”
Casey started down the hall, but Maria seemed rooted to her spot. “I don’t mean I think she was like Krystal. She just gave the impression of being unattached. It’s impossible for anyone to keep track of all the residents. And it’s not like it’s my job to do that, or Sissy’s. The people who live here can have whatever life they choose, as long as it doesn’t disrupt other people’s lives.” She marched down the hallway, pushed the elevator button, and closed her eyes.
Casey wanted to close her eyes, too. Already it had been a long day, and she still had two classes to teach. Maybe this teaching-for-fifteen-hours schedule wasn’t such a good idea, after all. Even women with tragic pasts and no real desire to live needed a break now and then.
The elevator came and they got on, Death standing close to Maria and studying her. Casey punched the button for her floor, and Maria for the ground level.
“She’s freaking about something,” Death said. “This whole thing about Andrea having a fiancé is big stuff. It’s driving her crazy.”
Casey could see that Death was right. Maria’s hands were clenched into fists, and any hint of pinkness had been leached from her face.
“Going home now?” Casey asked, hoping conversation might keep Maria from fainting.
Maria whipped her head around. “I’m sorry?”
“Home? You going there?”
“Oh. Yes. Finally. I’ve been gone since six this morning. My kids are going to think I don’t live there anymore.”
“Who watches them while you’re gone?”
Guilt flitted across Maria’s face. “My mother, sometimes. Rosa. A friend.”
“No dad, I take it,” Death said.
“None of my business,” Casey said.
Maria gave a little wave. “Oh, that’s all right. It’s a natural question.”
Casey took a deep breath. She really was tired. The elevator stopped, and she got off. “Hope you can get some rest.”
“Thanks. You, too.”
“That woman will get no sleep tonight,” Death said when the elevator had gone. “She’s going to spend the night trying to figure out who Andrea was marrying. And wondering if it was that blackmailing Brandon.” They went into Casey’s apartment, and Death collapsed onto the sofa. “We’re finding lots of reasons why people would have wanted to kill Brandon. But he’s not the one who’s dead.”
“If Andrea was engaged to him, she might have known a lot of his secrets. She could have known about Sissy’s last job, and Maria’s illegal status. And who knows what more secrets we’ll find in those files when we look at them.”
“No time now, chica. You’ve got to be down in your class two minutes ago.”
Casey rushed to change her clothes—again. She was going to have to do laundry every other day, if this schedule kept up.
The kickboxing class was sparse that evening, missing all of the women Casey knew. Laurie, obviously, was in no shape for exercising, let alone being in public, and Sissy was down for the