Casey. “You going to be okay? You need me to take you back?”
“I’ll be fine. Dylan will drive me.”
Gomez looked over at Dylan, who stood a little straighter and puffed out his chest. Each man regarded the other with calculating eyes.
“Oh, good grief,” Casey said. “Dylan, let’s go.”
Her voice snapped the spell, and Gomez continued leading Rosa toward the unmarked car. With a pang, Casey watched how gently he guided her. Just as Reuben would have done.
“So we’re going?” Dylan stood by the driver’s side door.
Casey returned her attention to the house. Until earlier that day, Maria, her kids, and Richie had made a sort of family there. Now Maria had most likely killed two people, possibly three, and she and her kids were gone. On the run. Fugitives. Who knew what would happen to them tomorrow?
Casey opened the passenger door of Dylan’s car, and got in.
Chapter Thirty-one
Neither one of them said a word all the way to the Flamingo. Dylan’s hands again gripped the steering wheel like it was going to fly off, if he let it. Casey felt drained, and sank way low in her seat, watching dully as the streetlights drifted past.
It all was too sad. Finally, a couple who really did love each other. They wanted to do the right thing by Maria. Then they wanted to get married. No wonder Andrea’s apartment looked like a stop on the way to somewhere else. She was just waiting for Maria’s papers to go through, and she and Richie could go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn’t in danger of being taken to court if Sissy saw him.
It made her so, so tired. And felt so, so wrong.
“We’re here,” Dylan said, bringing the car to a stop.
Casey undid her seatbelt.
“So that cop,” Dylan said, his hands squeaking as he squeezed the steering wheel. “He likes you.”
Casey gave a little laugh. “Just because he was concerned for my welfare doesn’t mean he likes me. And what are we? Fourth graders?”
Casey got out of the car and stretched, putting her hands on her waist and letting her head drop forward.
“So that wasn’t pretty.” Death stood beside Casey, leaning against Del’s motorcycle in the next spot. For once Death wore the traditional outfit—a long, black robe with an over-sized hood. The head of a scythe peeked over Death’s right shoulder, strapped on with a black leather belt.
Casey was shaken, and whispered, “Where have you been? It wasn’t Richie was it?”
“Nope. Haiti. They’ve had such terrible luck lately. Earthquakes. Cholera. Hurricanes. Today it was the ground shifting under a road and causing a bridge to buckle. Dozens of people, smashed like very fragile bugs.”
Casey shuddered, and Dylan put his arm around her shoulder. “Want to go in?”
“Actually, I think I’ll walk on the beach for a bit.”
“By yourself?”
“Doesn’t matter. You can come, if you want. You probably need to clear your head, too.”
She allowed Dylan to take her hand, and they walked around the Flamingo toward the beach. The sound of the ocean was drowned out by the music around the pool, and conversation and laughter floated across the air. When they drew even with the pool, Dylan hesitated.
Casey stopped, looking at the lights and people with smiling faces. “You want to stay here?”
Dylan shrugged, obviously embarrassed. “It’s just so…opposite of what we’ve been thinking about. Of this whole week, with Andrea getting killed, and now Brandon.”
“Sure.” Casey let go of his hand. “Go on. In fact, I see someone you might want to get to know. See that woman sitting off by herself? She’s new. Just signed a lease today.”
Dylan saw her. “You don’t mind?”
“No.” She really didn’t.
“Okay. I’ll be around, though, all right? Come find me later.”
“I will if I need to.”
She watched as he headed toward the pool, his stride growing stronger the further he got from her.
“Superficial,” Death muttered.
“Just young. And he’s got an excuse—you missed everything from the past couple of hours. Come on, and I’ll tell you about it.”
Casey and Death walked past the palm trees to the private beach as she talked. Several couples had the same idea of semi-privacy, either strolling along the edge of the water or lying on blankets.
“So it looks like Maria killed both Brandon and Andrea, and has now taken off with Andrea’s man?” Death took a deep breath and blew at the water, causing a wave to crash onto the shore, tinged with ice.
“You said Haiti wasn’t pretty. This isn’t, either. And I’m having a hard time believing it all.