Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,30

That was where the real test would be. The answer to whether or not ghosts did exist. She took a deep breath and started up, running her hand along the smooth railing. As she climbed, her heart raced—a sure sign of anxiety, as it would take hundreds of stairs to make her body react to mere physical activity. She paused halfway up, taking in the smooth white wall, where there used to be family photos displayed. Now it was a testament to Ricky’s hard work and care for her home.

She continued up until she hit the landing. Straight ahead was the bathroom, where she’d given Omar countless baths. More than once she’d gotten as wet as he had, when he had splashed and played. He’d always loved those times in the warm water, with Casey or Reuben blowing bubbles to entertain him. The little bath cushion was gone now, and the baby shampoo and wash had been replaced with Bath and Body Works bottles. The mirror was free of spots, and the only thing on the counter was a ceramic liquid soap dispenser. The towel even looked unused, as if it were there just for looks. Which it was.

Casey stood in the hallway. Which should be first? The bedroom she had shared with Reuben, where they’d spent countless hours talking, sleeping beside each other, and, of course, those other things Geraldine had been going on about with her Arthur? Or Omar’s bedroom, where she’d spent those late nights and early mornings when he’d woken up hungry or over-tired or teething? Come to think of it, why should she go in either?

Because if she was going to spend the night, she would be sleeping in one of those rooms, unless she wanted to spend the night on the couch.

She’d slept worse places.

She went back downstairs and sat on the sofa. Her stomach rumbled. She went to the kitchen and looked through the cupboards. Completely empty, like she was Old Mother Hubbard. The refrigerator was unplugged, so of course it was empty. There was nothing—not even a can of beans—to eat. She went back to the living room.

She could order out for pizza. Or Chinese. Or walk down to the 24/7 convenience store and get one of those crappy burritos and an Icee.

Or she could just tough it out till morning.

She drank some water from the spigot, lay on her back, and pulled her father’s afghan over her. She should be tired. It had been a late night, and an emotional day. She was in her own home after being on the road for two years. That in itself should be exhausting. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. In and out, even, deep, slow. Counting sheep. Counting stars. Going through the alphabet, naming different kinds of food for each letter.

She opened her eyes.

The refrigerator was clean. Just warm. She plugged it in. And then she put her shoes back on, grabbed her wallet, and walked out the front door.

“Midnight snack?” Death sat on the front step, holding an electronic tablet and watching an episode of Everybody Loves Raymond. “This family drives me crazy. If I were a part of it I’d shoot myself.”

“Go right ahead.”

Death pushed a button and the show disappeared. “Wow. You’re not any nicer in the middle of the night than you are during the day.”

“It’s not like you shooting yourself would do any harm.”

“True.” Death stood and stretched. “So where are we going?”

“I am going to the convenience store.”

“Burrito?”

“I was thinking frozen pizza. Or maybe some rotisserie chicken, if they have some this time of night.”

Death made a face. “Sounds wonderful. I think I’ll stay here where I won’t die of food poisoning.” Death turned the tablet back on, resuming the Raymond episode where it had left off. “Maybe you’ll find someone of your type there.”

“What type would that be?”

“Honestly?”

“No.”

Casey left Death and walked toward the store, which sat at the end of the street several blocks down. The night was quiet, and hardly any lights glowed behind curtains of the neighboring houses. She and Reuben really had picked the family part of town. No late-night partiers or guys hanging out on the street with their hot rods and beers. The few lights she saw were probably for parents up with babies. She turned her mind away from that thought and broke into a jog. She hadn’t gotten a run for a couple of days and she was feeling it.

When she reached the store she

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