Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,102
got to mean something else.”
Eric’s phone rang in her hand. “It’s Chief Kay. Hello?”
“We got positive IDs from your Colorado people, the cook and the neighbor.”
“It was Randy Pinkerton?”
“That’s the guy. We’re going out to talk with him.”
“Good luck finding him.”
Kay was quiet for a few seconds. “I take it that means you’ve been to see him?”
“Tried. The stupid Chamber guy gave him the heads-up and he took off. Now he’s somewhere in the wind.”
“Leave him up to us now. You’ve done your job—we’re looking at someone other than your brother—not that I was looking at him, mind you.”
“All I ever wanted.” Well, not all. But it would have to be enough.
“We’ll keep you posted as much as we can.” Which would mean once everything was over.
Casey hung up and told Eric what was happening.
“So we can go home?”
“I guess. I’m not sure what else we could do.” She watched the passing scenery, not really seeing the blue sky and the orange leaves. “But I’m not real happy about it.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
By the time they arrived back in Marshland it was late, but Casey was too antsy to sleep, or even to go into her room. “Want to go for a walk?”
Eric looked surprised, but agreed, and they started down the street. It was dusk, and the lights were just beginning to glow, casting a yellowish light over the sidewalk and the buildings they passed. The air had cooled to a manageable temperature, but still they went at a leisurely pace.
Without discussing their destination, they headed toward the park. When they got to Elizabeth and Cyrus’ old parking lot, they sat on top of the table and looked out over the grassy area. There were a few folks using the very last of the light on the playground, and maybe the same group of boys running in circles and arguing over a football game.
“It’s almost like they’re still here,” Casey said. “But alive, not dead. It’s hard to believe this is where it all went down.”
Eric didn’t say anything for a while, then replied, “We did our best for them.”
“Yeah, I know.”
The football boys disbanded, heading out in all directions, like an explosion of testosterone. The parents and children went home. The sun set all the way.
“I’m not afraid of Death,” Casey said.
Eric didn’t reply.
“Ever since Reuben and Omar died, it’s like I’m not really here. Not a part of what’s actually going on with other people. I’m sort of half alive, half not, and I don’t really want the half that is. Does that make sense?”
“I guess.” He hesitated. “You wish you were dead, too?”
“I don’t want to die—” Was that true? “—but I feel like I’m half dead already, why not go the rest of the way? What’s the point of being here at all?”
“That does sound sort of like a death wish.”
“Yeah, I suppose it does.”
They sat in silence for a while. The last of the summer’s cicadas sang weakly in the trees, but other than that they heard only the breeze through the dried leaves.
“I hear things,” Casey blurted out. “And I see things.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not crazy.”
“Didn’t say you were.”
She climbed off the bench and swung around to look at him. “It’s Death. It won’t leave me alone. Everywhere I turn, it’s there. It talks to me, it follows me, I can’t…I can’t escape it.”
Eric watched her.
“Death tells me things. Things no one else knows.”
“Like Alicia McManus’ real name. Or what she said when she was dying.”
“Yes.” She inhaled a sob. “Yes.”
He watched her some more, and then he nodded. “Okay.”
She hugged herself, trying to stop shaking, trying to stop whatever was happening. Whatever was taking her farther away from Reuben and Omar. Farther away from the life they had shared. Farther away from everything that surrounded her.
“Hey.” Eric came over and bent his knees to look into her eyes. “Hey, it’s all right. It’s all right.” He held out his hands, like he was approaching a jumpy colt. “I’m here. I’m real. All right? Okay?”
She felt his hands on her arms, then on her back as he pulled her close, holding her, tipping her face down against his shoulder. She wanted to protest. She wanted to hold him. She took a shuddering breath, then another, until she was hyperventilating.
“Shhh,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Shhh. It’s all right.” He held her tighter, resting his head against hers, rubbing her back.
She held her arms tight against her stomach, curling into him, burrowing into his warmth,