her own, even at The Slope. She didn’t even have a computer, for God’s sake.”
“Why would God want her to have a computer?” Death said.
“She never bought things,” Ricky continued. “If I did take her out to eat, she might pay her part—because she’d insist, not because I didn’t want to—but she didn’t go shopping, or skiing, or anything. There was nothing in her apartment people would plan to take. It had to be totally by chance.”
“Okay.” Casey drummed her fingers on the table. “So let’s say it was random. How did they find her? She lived in a basement apartment, underneath a nosey landlord, in a residential neighborhood that wasn’t exactly fancy, but wasn’t a slum. You said yourself there was nothing obvious worth stealing. So why her?”
“I don’t know. They followed her, maybe. She always walked home from work, and she was always alone. It would have been close to dark if it was after work. They could have been waiting for someone like her. Someone they could overpower and—”
“Stop.” Casey held up her hand. “You’re saying ‘they.’ What makes you think it was more than one person?”
Ricky went even paler, and his mouth dropped open. “What?”
“You know what. There’s something you’re not telling me.”
His mouth clamped shut, and he shook his head. “There’s not.”
She looked over at Don, and he raised his eyebrows. He saw it, too.
“Look, Ricky, this is just like the Bailey thing. If you want me to help, you’ve got to tell me what you know.”
He closed his eyes and breathed out through his nose, obviously struggling with something. Casey waited him out.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“I mean, she didn’t tell me on purpose. She was asleep.”
“So you feel like you’re betraying her if you tell us.”
He shrugged, obviously embarrassed. “I guess. Kind of.”
“I understand, Ricky. Really, I do. But the way I see it, you’re betraying her if you don’t tell. If it’s something that could help us find her killers. And you know there was more than one.”
He took a shuddering breath. “Have you seen the pictures?”
“Of Alicia? Yes. You have, too?”
His jaw trembled. “I wish I hadn’t. What they did to her…”
“Tell me, Ricky.”
He glanced at Don, and lowered his voice, as if he didn’t want Don to hear. Don pulled a paper out of his briefcase and pretended to be reading it. Casey could tell he was faking, because his eyes weren’t moving.
“We were sleeping,” Ricky said. “One of the few nights she let me stay.” He flushed. “Not because she didn’t want me to, but because we were both so tired, and we had to get up early. You know how my shifts are, and if she had to work breakfast she’d be there at five. Usually I’d be at her place for a while in the evening, and then go home. It worked well for us. Or okay, anyway. Sometimes I’d ask if I could stay when it was late after we—” He stopped, and his flush grew deeper.
“It’s all right, Ricky. You don’t have to explain that part. I do remember what men and women do when they’re in love.”
He gave a brief smile, which looked more like a cringe. “Anyway, we were sleeping, and she started thrashing around. I woke up when she yanked the covers off of me. I tried to wake her up, too, because she was mumbling weird stuff, but she grabbed me. Both arms, like she was trying to get me to listen to her. Her eyes were wide open, and she was scared, really scared…”
Casey held his hand. “It’s okay, Ricky.”
“She kept saying, ‘They found me. Oh, my God, they found me.’ I asked her who, but she just said ‘they.’ It was freaky. She finally went back to sleep when I…I held her tight enough. When she woke up in the morning she didn’t say anything about it, so I didn’t, either. I figured if she wanted to tell me, she would.” His face crumpled and he dropped it into his hands. “I should have asked her about it. If I had, she might still be alive. This wouldn’t have happened.”
“Ricky, you don’t know—”
“I could have protected her! She wouldn’t have been alone! She wouldn’t have been walking alone.” He fell onto Casey’s shoulder and sobbed. She rubbed his back and looked up at Death, who was filming the whole exchange.
“I know,” Death said. “I’m exploiting your brother’s emotions. But you have to admit, his sense of grief is