Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,26
wrong. He said he was fixing something in Ricky’s bathroom, that Ricky had left the back door open for him, which I suppose could be right because we live in a very safe neighborhood, and people do that sort of thing.”
“What did the police say?”
“They checked on him, said it was a legitimate business, and there was paperwork and on-line correspondence to corroborate what he said.”
Ricky hadn’t said anything about a repairman. But then, when Casey had seen him that afternoon he wasn’t exactly in the state of mind to be talking about his bathroom. And she hadn’t known to ask.
“I called again the next day to ask the police about the man,” Geraldine said, “but they brushed me off, said they’d already gone down that avenue. I told them—”
Casey got up and walked to the bathroom on the first floor. Geraldine skittered along behind, watching over Casey’s shoulder. There was no sign of any recent work. No stickers on the window, no unmatched wood or fresh paint. And when she had cleaned the room there hadn’t been any sawdust or dirty footprints. Nothing but regular bathroom grime and fingerprint dust.
They trooped upstairs, but there were no signs of new repair or construction in that bathroom, either.
“That man wasn’t working on anything,” Geraldine gushed. “But he spent quite some time in here. What do you suppose he was doing?”
There was no way to be sure, but Casey figured she had a good idea. He was planting things. Things like bloody shirts and paper trails.
Chapter Twelve
“Time to hound the cops?”
Geraldine had gone back home—after Casey gave several varied and right-out blunt hints that she really should—and Death held out a phone that now looked like a Droid.
Exhausted, Casey lay on the couch in Ricky’s living room, feeling grimy and dusty. “It doesn’t sound like speaking to law enforcement would do any good. Geraldine’s already told them everything I could.”
“Not about Ricky’s stash.”
“Like they’d care about a few scribbled sayings, stale candy, and a biography of a comedienne. What I need is hard evidence, not stuff that has no meaning to anyone but Ricky.”
“So you need to ask Ricky what it means.”
“Don’t you think I realize that? It’s not like I can just call him up and ask.”
Death stepped away, hands up. “Just trying to be helpful.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost seven-thirty. Why? Hungry?”
“Well, yes, but it’s also about time for Bailey to get off work. She said I could check with her about Alicia’s faked job application.”
“Perfect. You can grab supper while you’re there.”
“Not. I’d rather go hungry. You coming?”
Ricky’s car had been taken away by the cops, so Casey strapped her bag onto her back, jumped on Ricky’s bicycle, and headed to the other side of town, Death keeping pace on an airborne Segway. Casey made it to the Slope just before closing and waited outside. When Bailey appeared, it took Casey a moment to recognize her. She’d changed into a different tight shirt, this one with open buttons revealing cleavage, and a clean pair of skinny jeans. She’d obviously made a stop in the bathroom to put on fresh make-up, and her hair was loose, falling around her face.
She headed for her car, confident in high heeled boots, and slid into the driver’s seat. Casey got into the passenger side just as Bailey inserted her key in the ignition.
Bailey yelped and laid her hand on her chest. “Geez, you scared me.”
“Sorry. Didn’t think you’d want your manager to see you talking to me.”
“Yeah, he was awfully crabby this afternoon. I think it’s all getting to him.”
“Did you find it?”
Bailey looked blank for a moment before understanding lit her eyes and she dug in her purse. “It’s been a long day. I forgot for a second what it was you wanted. But here it is.”
Just one side of one sheet of paper. Alicia’s job application. “You need it back?”
“Nah. I made a copy while Karl was out.”
Casey scanned the form. It was everything she feared. All lies, nothing that would help. At least not at first sight.
“So did you get in to see him?” Bailey’s hand waved in front of Casey’s face, like she’d been trying to get her attention, but had failed.
“Who? Your boss?”
“No, Ricky. You said you were going to the prison.”
“Yeah, I saw him.”
“How was he?”
“How do you think?”
Bailey frowned. “I do care about him, you know. Just because Alicia was his actual girlfriend doesn’t mean I didn’t like him. I told you I don’t think he did