“Yes, but…” Casey looked at Rosemary, and then Lillian. “Karl’s not the one who died. If he had been, then perhaps Todd would be a suspect, based on this. But Karl’s alive and kicking.”
“Unfortunately,” Rosemary muttered.
“It’s got to have something to do with the lay-offs.” Eric laid his head back on his chair. “Why didn’t Ellen just tell me? Instead of…” He jutted his chin toward the TV. “Of that.”
Casey considered his words. “Maybe she was still gathering evidence. She didn’t want to say anything until she had it all pieced together. If we think of this video in that way, it makes more sense. It’s not everything she knew, but just a part that would make sense with other information.”
“So where’s the other information?” Eric banged his hands on the arms of his chair. “This doesn’t look like anything that should’ve gotten her killed.”
Lillian gasped, and Rosemary strode quickly to her side. “What is it?”
Lillian’s mouth opened, then shut, and she stood up, almost knocking Rosemary aside. “I think…” She rushed from the room.
“Lillian?” Rosemary bustled after her.
Eric rolled his head so he was looking at Casey. “This makes me feel like puking, too.”
“Oh, me, too.”
Casey blinked, and somehow refrained from exhaling with disgust at the sight of Death, one hip perched on the back of Eric’s chair, eating a chicken leg.
“It gives me motion sickness, you know,” Death said, waving the drumstick. “Watching TV. I really can’t take it.”
Casey closed her eyes.
Eric leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I wish I knew what she was trying to tell me…”
Casey wanted to go comfort him, but couldn’t make herself move closer with Death looking over his shoulder. Besides, if what Lonnie said about Eric’s feelings was true she really needed to—
“So what now?” Death took a bite of chicken, using a sleeve to wipe barbecue sauce from where it had dripped onto the chair.
Casey could feel her stomach turning.
“Eric.”
Death was gone, and Lillian hesitated in the doorway, a box in her hands. Rosemary stepped up beside her, her hand on Lillian’s shoulder. “This…” Lillian came closer. “This was from Ellen. She’d given it to me to keep for…for your birthday. With everything that’s happened, I just…I forgot about it.”
Eric’s eyes locked onto the package, a small box with shiny red paper and a gold bow. “What is it?”
Lillian shook her head, her eyes bright with tears. “I don’t know, sweetheart.” She held it out, but he didn’t reach for it.
“Oh, come on,” Death said in Casey’s ear. “Take it already.”
Casey made a shushing motion toward the empty air around her, which she turned into a stretch when she noticed Rosemary watching her.
Slowly Eric reached out and took the package, turning it over in his hands. “It hardly weighs anything. Are you sure there’s something in it?”
Lillian’s mouth twitched. “She said you were sure to like it. In fact, she said it would probably be the best birthday gift you ever got.”
Rosemary huffed. “Then she didn’t know about that birthday trip to see the Harlem Globetrotters when you were ten.”
Eric gave her a sad smile. “I guess I should open it, then, if it’s that special.”
Rosemary nodded. “No need to save the paper.”
Eric ripped the shiny wrapper from the container, which wasn’t a jewelry box, but about that size. He stared at it for a moment before gently lifting the lid. He looked down at the contents, then up at the women, his face a picture of confusion.
He held the box out to Casey, and she gazed down at a perfect, silver key.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“It’s not a car key,” Rosemary said.
Lillian shook her head. “Or a house key.” She’d recovered from her earlier malaise, and stood by the end table, holding the key up to the light. “It’s too small. And thin.”
“A safety deposit box?” Eric asked. “At the bank? That would fit with the footage of Todd.”
“No,” Casey said. “Those are heavy. Thick.”
“Yeah. I knew that.”
“Bike lock?” Rosemary said.
Casey laughed. “Who locks their bikes? You folks don’t even lock your cars.”
“Or a lock for a locker room.”
Casey considered that. “Like at a gym, to protect her purse while she worked out. Was she a member somewhere?”
“No gym membership.” Eric was certain. “She didn’t have the money.”
“But it could be a portable lock she used somewhere else.”
“It almost looks like a diary key,” Lillian said. “Like little girls have, to write down who they have a crush on, and how horrible their hair was that day.”
Casey looked at Eric. “Did Ellen’s daughter have a diary?”
“I don’t know. If she did, she’d have it with her at her grandparents, I would think. I really don’t want to go back to Ellen’s house to check.”
“Call her,” Rosemary said.
“Now?”
“Why not?”
“It’s the middle of the night, that’s why not. I’ll call in the morning. If it’s waited this long, it can wait a few more hours.”
Casey felt suddenly tired, and looked at the clock. “It is almost two. I need to go to bed.”
Lillian seemed not to hear her, but Rosemary sketched a small wave. “Me, too, darling. I’m about done in. Eric, why don’t you just stay here tonight. We’ve certainly got the room. Eric?”
“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, sorry. I’m zoning out.”
“That’s settled then. The lighthouse room for you.”
“Oh, good.” He yawned. “I like that one. Is the white noise machine still in there?”
“With the button set to ocean waves. Off you go.”
Eric didn’t look like he could get out of his chair. Casey hesitated, then offered her hand to pull him up. He lurched out of the chair, stopped from falling only by Casey grabbing his arms. He stepped back. “Sorry.”
Casey patted his elbows and headed toward the stairs, Eric padding along behind her. Solomon greeted them at the upstairs landing, where he sat directly across from Casey’s room.
“He want in?” Eric asked.
Casey shook her head. “Watch.”
She opened her door, and Solomon arched his back, his tail growing to twice its normal size. He hissed, spat, and raced down the hallway.
“Whoa,” Eric said. “What are you keeping in there?”
“Oh, you know. Creepy things.”
“I guess so.” He looked down toward the other rooms. “See you in the morning, then.” He stopped at the second room and opened the door. Solomon scampered inside. “Well,” Eric said. “Seems I’m not creepy.”
Casey snorted, and went into her room.
“I am not creepy.” Death perched on the window seat. “I’m impressive. Scary I can take. Or frightening. Even immobilizing. But I am not creepy.”
Casey ignored this and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door.
“I can still see you, you know!”
“So shut your eyes.”
A minute later Casey opened the door. “Don’t you have someplace else to be?” she said around her toothbrush. “Isn’t someone dying somewhere?”
“Oh, Casey, you refuse to understand, don’t you? I can be in more than one place at a time.”
Casey spat into the sink. “You’re getting that annoying tone of voice again. Your patronizing one.”
“If I could only be one place at one time I’d never get everything done. Like Santa Claus.”
“You are not like Santa Claus.” Casey’s throat tightened. She had never gotten a chance to decide whether or not she’d let Omar believe in Santa.
“That’s true. Santa’s not real. But in every other sense we are the same.”
Casey got a T-shirt from the wardrobe and went back behind the bathroom door to undress and pull it over her head. “Yeah, you’re so jolly and happy. And like to dress in red.”
“I can’t help it I look best in black.”
“The sleigh with flying reindeer?”
“My coach has white horses. And while I don’t like them, I have to admit they can fly.”