Death waited at the door. “Time to hit the road?”
“Let’s go.”
Dr. Cross had put her at the far end of the quiet hall, right by the stairs. He knew she wouldn’t be staying—that was part of her separate deal with him. She’d given him her lawyer’s address, where he would send her invoice for treatment, and had guaranteed he’d be paid. He hadn’t argued. Casey figured he would just be glad to see her go and leave his son in peace.
The stairs weren’t exactly fun, and by the time she’d reached the ground floor she was ready to rest. She sat on the bottom step to catch her breath.
“You can go back up and crawl in bed,” Death said.
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Oh, I have much better things to tempt you with, my dear.”
“Who are you now, Clark Gable?”
Death preened.
Casey grabbed the railing and hauled herself up. “According to the train schedule, there’s one that stops in the next town at two to load boxcars. We need to get a move on.”
“You’re serious. You think you’re going to be able to get there in your condition.”
“It’s the only condition I’ve got, and I’m not about to step into another truck.”
“How about another car?”
Casey jerked her head up, and almost fell. “Bailey?”
The girl stood inside the door. “I knew you were going to do this. I knew you wouldn’t stick around till morning, when we could say a proper good-bye. I just wasn’t expecting to find you blabbering to yourself at the bottom of a dark, empty stairway.”
Casey sagged against the railing. “Bailey, I—”
“That’s fine. I’m sure it’s the drugs.” She rolled her eyes to show just how convinced she was. “Come on.” She grabbed Casey’s bag and held the door open.
Bailey’s car was just outside, and she helped Casey into the front seat. Casey looked around. “What? No others?” Death was the only occupant of the back seat, and held a little drawstring music box, which was playing Brahms’ Lullaby.
“I’m doing this on my own.”
“How come?”
Bailey eased the car from the curb and maneuvered her way out of the parking lot. “They’ve had enough of the fun.”
“This is fun?”
Bailey kept her eyes on the road. “It has been for me. I mean, not the part where you got beat up and stuff, and definitely not when Johnny gave our hiding place away, but…” She twitched the way people do when they’re trying not to cry.
Casey rested her head on the seat back. “So they didn’t want to come?”
Bailey shrugged. “I didn’t tell them I was coming.”
Ah.
Bailey glanced over. “So where am I taking you?”
“The train station in Newton.”
“They don’t have one.”
“Not an actual passenger one. A loading dock.”
Bailey shook her head. “You’re half dead and you’re going to go traveling around the country like a hobo?”
“I am a hobo.”
“No, you’re not.”
Casey didn’t have the energy to argue.
After several minutes, Bailey gave a little laugh. “Did you see how Sheryl was hanging onto Terry at the hospital tonight?”
“Yeah. I don’t think he had any idea what the rest of us were even talking about.”
Bailey giggled. “No clue.”
“You weren’t hanging onto Martin.”
Bailey’s face glowed red in the light from the dashboard. “I’m not the sort to go hanging on boys.”
“No, I wouldn’t think so.”
“Besides, now he feels like he owes that dumb girl from the police department for connecting them with Matt Williams.”
Casey winced. “Sorry.”
“He’ll get over it.”
“And Johnny?”
“I don’t like Johnny.”
“No, I mean will he get over it? Over everything that’s happened?”
“If we decide not to kill him. Just kidding,” she said quickly. “He’ll be fine. Now maybe his dad will ease up on him. And I’ll try to stop calling him an idiot.”
“That might help.”
Silence again.
“I’m going to ask my folks if we can start meeting at my house. We’ve got that huge rec room, and nobody ever uses it.”
“Good plan. Although it will probably have to be at normal hours.”
“Well, we’ll see about that.” She grinned.
They arrived in Newton and drove around for a while before finding the factory with the loading dock. The train had already arrived, and open cars were being filled with boxes of goods. Bailey killed her headlights and drifted into a corner of the large parking lot.
Casey had a sudden thought and searched through her bag. She pulled out Evan’s family photo. “Do me a favor?”
“Another one?”
“Send this to Evan Tague’s family. Tell them it was the last thing he saw. Please.”
Bailey chewed on her lip, then took the photo, smoothing it out with her finger. “So, this is it? We help you take out the bad guys, and you leave us?”
Casey reached over and wrapped a hand around Bailey’s wrist. “You’ve been a great friend. I just…I can’t be that kind of friend for you right now.”
Bailey turned and looked at her, her face wrinkled with distress. “But why? What are you running from?”
Casey glanced at the back seat. The music box was quiet now, and Death waited in silence.
“I don’t know, Bailey. Sometimes it feels like I’m running from everything.” She smiled sadly. “Someday, when I’ve outrun it, I’ll get in touch.”
“You promise?”
Casey gave the girl’s wrist a squeeze. “I promise.”
Bailey looked at her some more, as if deciding something. “Well, okay, then.” She undid her seatbelt and got out of the car.
Casey got out, too, easing the backpack over her shoulder. “Bailey, what—”
Bailey opened the trunk and heaved out an old black duffel bag. “Here. Open it when you’re on the road. Or on the train. It should hold you over for a while.”
“Oh, Bailey, you’ve done so much.”
“Stop, or you’ll make me cry.”
Casey grabbed her and hugged her hard. Bailey hugged her in return, and Casey’s breath caught at the pain. But it was worth it.
Finally, they let go of each other and Casey stepped back. She picked up the bag, turned around, and walked toward the train.
Neither she nor Death looked back.