Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,81
concentration to follow along. Casey wondered about continuing with the conversation in front of her, but figured her parents were sitting right there, and they should be the ones to put a stop to it, or send her to her room. Perhaps they figured the whole answers and truth thing extended to pre-teens, as well.
“My brother Ricky loved her,” she said. “They were seeing each other. Romantically.” What did teenagers call it anymore? Dating? Going out? Hooking up?
“So why isn’t he here? Or is this him?” He gestured at Eric.
“Sorry,” Eric said. “I’m here for Casey. We’re…friends.”
Billy looked at them knowingly, so Casey rushed to continue before he had a chance to remark on what he’d already figured out, which was apparently more than they had. “The cops think Ricky killed her.”
Billy took in this information stoically, working at something in his teeth with his tongue. “You don’t think he did?”
“I know he didn’t.”
“Because he’s your brother?”
“Well…yes.”
“And you’re trying to find out what happened so you can get him out of jail?”
“Yes. He’s a mess. He loved her a lot, apparently, and this is all just—” She was going to say, killing him, but stopped herself in time. “It’s been really hard for him.”
Billy watched her a little longer, then nodded. “Okay.”
Okay. Law enforcement, Elizabeth’s co-workers, the media, they all doubted Ricky’s innocence. This kid in Texas, who didn’t know Ricky from Adam, but could see how his mother was hurting from the final loss of her cousin, believed it instantly. Casey wanted to hug him.
“You think she was killed by somebody from here.” He was watching her closely.
“That’s my guess. She was obviously in hiding. I guess she could have been running from something that happened later, but this is where it all started.”
“You think somebody here found out where she was.”
“It looks that way.”
“How could they have? I mean, if Mom didn’t know, after all this time. The cops, the papers, no one knew, no one could find her.”
Casey glanced at Betsy, then said as gently as she could, “I think people had pretty much stopped trying, Billy. It’s been a long time.”
Scott rubbed Betsy’s shoulder. “Tell them what you found out today, hon.”
She sat frozen for a moment, then patted her mouth with a napkin and pushed herself back from the table. “I’ll show you.”
Billy followed them into the dining room, where the boxes of memorabilia still cluttered the table. Junie stayed behind with her father, and Casey soon heard the clanking of dishes and silverware.
“I called everyone I could think of who Elizabeth might have known.” Betsy handed Casey a handwritten list of names and numbers, all checked off, some with numbers crossed out, and new contact information noted beside them. “Grandparents, aunts and uncles, family friends, her folks’ college roommates, even kids we met at summer camp…I couldn’t find anyone who took her in or who she even approached for help.”
“Or who would admit it,” Casey said. “It might be embarrassing now to say after all these years that they knew she was alive, when they know her family had been wondering all this time.”
“No, I believe them. No one heard from her, no one saw her, no one had a clue where she’d gone. It was like she completely disappeared off the face of the earth. Until now.”
“How could that happen?” Eric said. “How could a teenage girl—and a young teenager, not like eighteen or nineteen—hide out that well and for that long? Don’t shelters and hostels and things like that have to report runaway teens, or wouldn’t they watch the news? Even bus drivers, cops in other towns, you know. Isn’t there a network?”
“Sure, there’s a network,” Casey said, “but this is a huge country, and there are thousands of homeless teens. Cyrus probably had some cash in the car, or had hidden some in another place. Especially if he was mixed up with some folks who weren’t exactly above-board. Elizabeth could have grabbed the money when she ran, and used it to hop a bus or train or something that would take her far away from here. It’s not that hard to disappear if you really want to, and back then they wouldn’t have insisted on ID like they do now. But even today, use a fake name, lie about your age, it’s amazing what you can get away with.”
Eric looked surprised for a moment, then smiled gently. “Fake names. I remember those. And it’s not like fake IDs are that hard