Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,82

to come by, even for kids.”

“She was only fourteen!” Betsy said.

“I’m seventeen,” Billy said. “You don’t think I could disappear if I wanted?”

“I certainly hope not!” She grabbed his arm. “What are you talking about?”

“Mom, don’t freak out.” He pushed her away. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m just saying. Sometimes people have reasons. Sometimes things aren’t what you think. Sometimes people just want…” He shrugged. “Never mind.”

Casey watched the panicked mother, and the son. Something about the son…

“Billy,” Casey said, “what is it?”

He chewed his lip, looked back at the kitchen, and shoved his hands in his pockets. Emotions ran crazily across his face—stubbornness, anger, fear, and finally worry, or was it sorrow? His eyes shone with tears.

“Billy?” Betsy placed her hand on his arm again, this time with gently. “What is it, honey?”

“It’s my fault.” His lips trembled.

“What is?”

“That Aunt Lizzy’s dead.”

“Honey, it couldn’t possibly be—”

“What happened, Billy?” Casey saw it in his face. He really thought he was to blame. “What did you do?”

He hesitated, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. A lone tear escaped and dripped down his cheek. “I saw her. I saw Aunt Lizzie. And then I sort of told them where she was.”

Chapter Thirty-three

The room went still.

“You saw Lizzie?” Betsy whispered. “My Lizzie?”

He nodded miserably.

“Where? When?” She shook him, and her voice rose. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Scott came from the kitchen and gently pried her away. “It’s all right, Bets, come on, now.”

“It’s not all right! He saw her! He saw Lizzie!”

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry.” Billy was crying openly now. “I should have told you, but she said not to. She said I should just leave things like they were, and it would be better for everybody. Better for you. I didn’t know she was going to die!”

“Where did you see her?” Anger flashed from Betsy’s eyes. “She came here? She approached you, and not…not me?”

“I don’t think she meant for me to see her.”

“Oh, that’s even better.”

“Betsy…” Scott spoke quietly, but firmly. There was no hint of his inner child now. Betsy opened her mouth to say something else, and then her face crumpled, and she leaned forward, burying herself in Scott’s shoulder.

Eric had found a tissue box somewhere, and held it out to Billy. The boy grabbed one, and rubbed his face and nose.

“Can you tell us about it?” Eric asked.

Billy sniffed and backed up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Scott was rocking Betsy, and Junie stood in the doorway, her eyes even wider than they had been at the dinner table.

“I was at school,” Billy finally said. “It was the end of the day, like a couple weeks ago, and I was walking out. I thought I saw you, Mom, and I wondered what you were doing there. But you turned and walked away, and you were wearing this dark trench coat kind of thing that I know you don’t have, and that was really weird, and I wondered—” He made a face. “I wondered if you were spying on me, or something, so I followed you.”

“I wasn’t spying on you—”

“Well, I know that now, don’t I?” He shoved his hands farther into his armpits and stared at the floor. “I followed her down the sidewalk toward our house, and there were a lot of us around, you know, since school just let out, so I don’t think she saw me at first, but she kept looking back, and when it was pretty much just us left, after most everybody else went to their cars or down their streets or whatever, I couldn’t really hide. She stopped a little bit, then turned and walked faster. I tried to keep up, but she went around a corner, there by the pharmacy, so I ran, but when I got there, she was gone. I was going to ask you about it, but I don’t know, I felt strange about it, so I didn’t.”

“Oh, Billy, I wish—”

“I wish, too, Mom, okay?”

“No, I mean—”

He held up his hand. “Let me finish. So I come home and we have dinner and whatever, and I have soccer practice, and I come back and shower and do homework and you go to bed and it sort of became this thing that I was probably just imagining, so I sort of, well, forgot about it.” He licked his lips. “But then the next day I was on my way to school and it was like I knew someone was watching me. When

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