Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,97
stood behind Eric, also in-between Casey and the police station.
Surprised, Casey looked over Eric’s shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
Eric glanced backward, and frowned. “Casey. Are you all right? You know I’ve been with you all along.”
“You’re obviously back to old form,” Death said, sighing. “Ready to die.”
“I’m not ready to die.”
“That’s good,” Eric said uncertainly. “I guess that means we’ll take this slowly?”
“Listen to the man,” Death said. “Running in there like an unprepared avenging angel isn’t going to solve anything. You’ve got to be smooth. Like me. In and out, nobody knows you were even there. Well, except that someone’s dead.”
She looked at the sky, then back down. “What do you suggest?”
“Ask around,” Eric said. “Find out if he’s been gone lately. See if we can locate the other two.”
“And you might want to do it before the Chamber of Commerce guy decides it’s his civic and neighborly duty to warn them.” Death indicated the window of the Chamber office, where Thornville stood watching them.
Casey glared at him. Eric plastered a smile on his face and waved, pulling Casey across the street to a coffee shop.
“I’m not thirsty,” Casey said.
Eric kept dragging her. “It’s not about the coffee.”
“Although it should be,” Death said. “From my research this place is supposed to have the best lattes around.” Death held up a Nook with the banner “Best Coffee in Texas!” across the bottom of a screen that showed the shop.
Casey stopped resisting. “Fine.”
Eric left her in a window booth and took out his phone. “Why don’t you give Chief Kay a call, tell her we identified the men in the photo.” He left her and went up to order a couple drinks, while Death fashioned a steaming mug of something that said, “Nothing like a little Elixir of Life to start the day!” with a yellow smiley face. Death took a sip and considered it. “A bit bitter, but some sweetness to it. Perhaps a taste of honey. Or is it ambrosia?”
Chief Kay wasn’t in, so Casey left the information with the officer who answered, which unfortunately was the same one she “assaulted” in the street. It wasn’t the most pleasant conversation.
Eric stayed at the counter longer than she thought necessary, talking to the pretty young barista. He came back with a blueberry muffin large enough to feed all of southeast Texas. Eric cut it in pieces and took a bite. “Mmm, good.” He spewed crumbs, and grinned. “Whoops.”
“Ricky is in jail,” Casey said.
Eric took another bite. “I know. That’s why I was chatting up the girl at the counter.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Eric grinned some more. “Jealous?”
Casey looked out the window.
“You’re pathetic,” Death said, and took another sip.
Casey gripped her cup. “So what did the girl say?”
“She knows Randy and the other guy, Les Danvers. They come in here on most Wednesdays. Apparently, Les works over at Galveston Bay, loading and unloading ships, and that’s his day off. When he comes to town they try to be the civilized business types and hang out at the coffee shop, but they don’t quite pull it off.”
“According to the girl.”
“Britney.”
“Britney. Of course that’s her name.”
Death laughed, and raised a toast. “To Britney.”
“She says Randy tries to keep it cool, but Les usually gets too loud, or complains about the coffee, or offends another customer somehow. Also, it seems Randy has been trying to get her to go out with him since she started working here two years ago.”
“Not exactly a surprise,” Death said.
Casey took a sip of her coffee, but refused to admit she enjoyed it. “What about the third guy? Marcus Flatt?”
“She’s not sure. She says there was another guy who stopped by once, but he didn’t get a drink, and he didn’t stay long. She was glad, because just looking at him gave her the creeps. She said his eyes were like a shark’s.”
“Bingo,” Death said loudly, and raised another toast, making Casey wonder exactly what was in the mug.
“I don’t suppose she has any idea if Randy and his buddies have been out of town?”
“Actually, she said he and Les missed their usual Wednesday last week. She hadn’t really thought anything of it, except that she hasn’t had to refuse Randy’s advances for a nice, two-week stretch.”
“The timing would fit.”
“Sure would.”
Casey took another drink and gazed out the window. Thornville no longer stood watching. She hoped he had just gone back to work, and wasn’t tattling to the police. “When was it she saw Flatt?”