Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,11
about the shirt before.”
Casey could tell from the set of his jaw that he was angry. “What was their excuse?”
“That we aren’t at trial yet, and they still had time before disclosing it.”
“Is that true?”
“Even if it is, it’s unfair. Watts should have told me. He should be giving me every chance to prove your brother’s innocence.”
Death made a choking noise. “So a bloody shirt found in Ricky’s house means he didn’t do it?”
“He is innocent,” Casey said. “We will prove it.”
Don was silent.
“So, can you get me in?”
Don didn’t pretend not to understand. “I asked the detective to put our names on the prison’s visitation list. We’re set up for a lawyer appointment during open hours this afternoon.”
“And until then?”
“I’ve got work to do. You can hang out in my waiting room. Unless, of course, you have other places to go.”
Casey heard the suggestion in his voice, along with what was probably criticism.
“How can I possibly visit my mother without seeing Ricky first?”
“Easy,” Death said. “You go to her place.”
Don shook his head. “I don’t know, Casey. But this has been a hard time for her.”
Casey rested her forehead on the side window, letting the coolness soothe her.
“I know,” Don said. “It’s been a hard time for you, too. But think about it…”
“Scout doesn’t even have a mother,” Death said. “I’m sure she would have been overjoyed to spend time with one if she had been lucky enough—”
“Will you shut up about that book?”
“What book?” Don’s forehead wrinkled. “You have been having the strangest outbursts today.”
“Oh, God. I know. I’m sorry. It’s…the stress. And I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Sure.” Although he didn’t look too sure. “You want to take a nap at my house? I’m sure Mel would be fine with that.”
“I don’t want to bother her. I’ll just…I have some places to go.”
“All right.” He put the car in gear. “So where should I drop you?”
“Actually, nowhere.” She got out and leaned back in the open door. “I’ll walk.”
“Casey—”
She shut the door and held up three fingers. Three o’clock. That’s when she’d be back at his office to go visit her little brother in jail. She could see Don wanted to say more, that he would argue with her about being on her own that far across town, so she waved, and walked away.
Chapter Six
“You okay? You look a little pale.” Death leaned toward Casey. “I’m really not so sure this was a good idea.”
Casey ignored the nagging and breathed in the surroundings. It had taken her almost an hour and a half to walk there from the police station. As Watts had said, the accident site was outside the city limits. Not super far, but enough for a good hike. Casey gazed up at the mountains. They remained the same as they always had been. Permanent. Unfeeling. Beautiful. The sky was blue, with puffy white clouds. The trees glowed with autumn.
Their car had been going a decent speed when it went out of control. Not over the limit. Not reckless. Just a normal straight-road kind of speed. One moment they were moving along, singing a nursery rhyme, and the next they were sliding into the guardrail with a clash of metal and glass, hood buckling, tires screaming, leaving their blackened tire trails on the pavement. Once the movement stilled, Casey had glanced quickly toward her husband, confirmed that he was shaken but intact, then yanked off her seatbelt and stumbled out of the car, shoving the door open with her shoulder, calling all the while to her crying son in the back seat that Everything is okay, baby, I’m right here.
But then she wasn’t.
The force of the blast had catapulted her backward, the car’s door a steel wall between her and the shrapnel and flame. When she awoke, the faces she saw were not Reuben’s or Omar’s, but the detached, professional expressions of two paramedics.
“My family,” she’d croaked.
The man holding her wrist looked away. The other one slumped his shoulders only a fraction. But it was enough.
“Reuben!” Casey struggled to break free. The men held her down with hands and even knees, but she wasn’t trained to accept submission. A head butt to the first guy’s nose sent him flying backward into the second, who lost his grip on her legs. The second guy scrambled to grab her again, but a swift kick to his solar plexus stopped him as he buckled in half, gasping for air.
Casey stumbled forward, where firefighters in bright yellow uniforms surrounded the