up working for him forever for nothing. It’s messed up. I wrote all about it for my government class. Been going on for ages.”
“What about Elizabeth? Your dad know her very well?”
“Yeah, I guess. This size town, you pretty much know everybody. But it’s not like he talks about her a lot, or anything. I think they were friends back then, or maybe even more than that, you know? But he married my mom, and, well, it’s not a subject that comes up too much.”
“Think he’d talk to me?”
“Probably. I can ask.”
“I’d appreciate that…what’s your name?”
“Robert. You can call me Robbie, if you want. Everybody does.”
Casey smiled. She was liking young Robert. “Well, thanks a lot, Robbie. You can call me Casey.”
He shook her hand formally. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
Ma’am. Somewhere along the way she’d turned into one of those. Or maybe it was Texas manners.
“Um, did you find her, or something?” He didn’t want to let her go without an answer.
He was going to have to. Casey smiled, but didn’t tell him anything more.
She and Eric found their rooms and paused to say goodnight under the awning that went the length of the building.
“Any certain time in the morning?” Eric asked.
“Don’t think there’s a rush. It’ll be better if we catch people once they’re up and around. No use spoiling anyone’s morning.”
“All right, then. See you whenever.”
“Yeah.”
They stood there awkwardly for a few moments until Casey turned and went into her room, locking it and leaning against the door.
“Two rooms?” Death said from a seat on the bed. A projector beamed a Houston Texans game onto the wall, and Death was texting someone with one eye on football and one eye on the phone. “Waste of money.”
“Like we’ve been worried about that today. First class plane tickets. Big car. Eating out.”
“Whatever. You’re scared.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Are too.”
Casey slammed the door of the bathroom and took a very long, very hot shower. When she came out, Death was still there, although now instead of football the projector was showing “No Country for Old Men.”
“Seriously?” Casey said. “Could you be more depressing?”
“It’s the real Texas.”
“I don’t think so. How about something uplifting, like ‘Apollo 13?’”
“That was Texas?”
“Houston, we’ve had a problem.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Anyway, no matter what state it’s about, you have to turn it off. I’m going to sleep.”
Death pouted. “You’re never any fun.”
“And you’re a barrel of dead monkeys.”
Death harrumpfed, rolled off the bed, and was gone.
Casey fell asleep fast, but was wide awake by six, without a prayer of drifting off again. She got dressed and went out for a run.
The town was as small as she had imagined. “The” pharmacy, school, and bank were all quiet and dark, with no sign of life except the digital clock hanging on the corner of the bank. The gas station-slash-convenience store was open, making Casey think of home, but she didn’t stop. She passed the stoplight—one of those blinking red ones, not even a full-fledged green-yellow-red—which meant she was passing Betsy Lackey’s blue house. She saw a light in what was probably a bathroom, with a frosted glass window, but decided against a spur-of-the-moment visit. Pulling someone out of the shower wasn’t exactly a way to get off on the right foot.
The streets were neat and clean, and the houses well-cared for. She didn’t see anyone sleeping in a car or in a doorway, and saw nothing that said there was a bad part of town. By the time she got back to the hotel, she was convinced Marshland was much more an “Apollo 13” kind of town than a “No Country for Old Men” town. Thank God. The last thing Casey needed was some creepy guy coming after her with a handmade airgun.
Eric was sitting outside reading his iPad. “So you’re not even in there. I was afraid to make any noise since you were being so quiet.”
“Couldn’t sleep any more.”
“Want to grab some breakfast? The kid in the office told me there’s a good diner on the opposite edge of town.”
“Robbie?”
“You mean the kid? I guess. Same one as last night. He was getting ready to head out for school. Not sure how he’ll function, since he was working all night.”
“Teenager.” That description would account for many things people could do that seemed superhuman. “Give me a few minutes, okay?” She showered and went back out to find Eric still sitting there.
“Forgot to tell you,” Eric said. “The kid said his dad will talk to you, if you want. He