Dying Echo: A Grim Reaper Mystery (Grim Reaper Series) (32 page)

Casey leaned over the counter. “
Can you remember anything.
”

He shied away, then looked at his shoes for a long time, muttering things like, “He was dressed like a cop,” and “He spoke like us,” and even, “He just looked
like a guy.
There was nothing special about him, or anything that screamed where he was from or…” He sat up.

“What?” Casey could see a new light in his eyes.

“I don’t know if it means anything.”

“
What is it
?”

“He called him Cyrus.”

Casey and Eric just looked at him, not sure what he was getting at.

Robbie waved his hands, like he had something in his brain rushing to get out, but was stumbling over itself. “He didn’t call him Mr. Mann. Or Elizabeth’s father. Or even the murder victim. He called him
Cyrus
. Like he knew him.”

“Not like Cyrus was just part of a case he was working.”

“Right. And then…and then he asked where I thought it was.”

“Where what was?”

“That’s what I asked him. Billy said he asked him, too.”

“And?”

“He wouldn’t tell me what it was. Just said if I didn’t know what he meant, then I wouldn’t know where it was, and he wouldn’t bother me any more. He told me to go back to class, and I never saw him again.”

Chapter Thirty-five

“You showed remarkable restraint,” Eric said. They were walking toward town, Casey moving so fast she was practically jogging.

“Yeah, well, the little twerp got lucky. And here I thought he was going to be a nice kid.” He’d called her
ma’am
.

“He
is
a nice kid.”

“Who ratted out his friend’s aunt and got her killed.”

“He didn’t kill her. He was just being a kid.”

“So that excuses his betraying a confidence? On the
Internet
?
Twice
?”

“Of course it doesn’t excuse it. But he’s not exactly the first person to post something they regret.”

Another reason Casey was glad she was living far outside that whole cyber world.

Eric spoke from behind, not quite able to keep up with her pace without full-out running. “Where are we going?”

“Betsy’s. If anyone would know what ‘it’ was, she would.”

“I don’t know. She seems pretty clueless about things.”

Casey stopped so quickly Eric had to grab her so he wouldn’t knock her down. They stood there for a breathless moment, faces inches apart, until Casey pushed away, brushing at her sleeves like he’d left something on them. “Do you have a better suggestion?”

“I think Wayne is the one who would know. He’s the one who visited the car. He saw the men, and he even knew a little about what Cyrus was up to, with the woodworking and everything. Betsy had her own stuff to worry about, being seventeen and pregnant. Plus, Wayne is Robbie’s dad. The man at the school might have thought Robbie knew something because of that.”

“But wouldn’t he just ask Wayne?”

“Maybe he did.”

“And Wayne didn’t tell us he’d talked to a man who just might have come back from the past and killed his old girlfriend?”

Eric shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But we won’t know what ‘it’ is unless we ask somebody. And I don’t know who else to ask.”

“Certainly not the cops. They don’t seem to know much of anything. Okay. You’re right. Wayne is the best option. Anyway, I hate to bother Betsy’s family again, what with Billy feeling responsible and Betsy blaming him.”

“She doesn’t—”

“Yes, she does. At least for now. Hopefully she’ll get over the fact that her teenager kept a secret from her. Just like your argument about Robbie and the Internet—I hardly think Billy’s the first teen to keep a secret from his parents.”

Eric laughed. “Hardly.”

Casey began walking again, this time headed for the Greers’ house. “Betsy’s sort of possessive about the whole event, don’t you think? Like Elizabeth was hers and no one else’s, except maybe Wayne’s. I’m not sure Betsy has ever really gotten over it, at least not completely.”

“The boxes were in the attic, not the living room.”

“True. But she is kind of freaking out, you have to admit.”

“Of course she is. A tragic event from her past has come back to haunt her. People have to move on from grief, but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten, and if it returns like this…”

Casey walked a little faster, and they didn’t speak again until they reached the Greers’ front door. A woman answered. She was short, with a plain, pleasant face, and hair that had obviously been dyed and styled at a salon. “May I help you?”

“Yes, is Wayne home?”

She looked behind them, like she was expecting someone else. “Who are you?”

“Sorry, I’m Casey, and this is Eric. We’ve been talking to him about Elizabeth Mann.”

Her face fell. “Why? She’s been gone for years. Since high school. And why would you talk to Wayne about it, anyway? She had lots of other classmates.”

Uh-oh.

“We’re talking to a number of different people, Mrs. Greer. Wayne’s name came up, and we thought we’d check in with him.”

She glanced back into the house, then said, “He’s not home.”

“Oh, that’s right, he’s at work, isn’t he?”

“How would you know that?”

“Your son. We met him at the motel and got to talking. He mentioned that your husband knew Elizabeth, so we thought we’d see what he might know.”

It was all true. Casey just hoped Wayne’s wife didn’t get too hung up on the actual chronology of when these things had happened.

Mrs. Greer gripped the doorframe. “They called me. His employers. He wasn’t home when I got here, so I figured he was at work, like usual. But he’s not there, either. They called, asking where he was.” She looked like she was going to cry, which was a look Casey was becoming far too familiar with in the past twenty-four hours.

“Any idea where he went?”

“I called his cell phone right away, of course, but he didn’t answer. I texted him, too. His family, his mom and dad, I mean, they say he’s not there, and I called the diner. He doesn’t seem to be anywhere in town.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Casey wasn’t sure of that at all, but it seemed like the thing to say. In fact, Casey was a little worried. It seemed risky for the murderers to come back to town
again,
but if they hadn’t found ‘it’ before, and they somehow knew that Casey and Eric had figured out Elizabeth’s identity, they might take their chances and return to see if there was new information. Wayne would most likely be one of their first stops.

“I don’t suppose Wayne has told you anything about something Elizabeth or her dad might have hidden back before he was killed?”

Her face got all pinched. “We don’t talk about her.”

“You
never
have?”

She put a hand to her forehead, like even thinking about Elizabeth Mann was giving her a headache. “We may have long ago, but I never knew her. Just heard about her. From everyone. I moved to town after she was already gone.”

“But you didn’t talk specifics.”

“More specifics than I cared to know. But nothing about any hidden documents or whatever you’re talking about. She was…it took Wayne a long time to get over what happened. I don’t want to bring it all up again. Not now.”

Casey didn’t bother telling her it was a little late for that. “When he comes home, can you please have him contact me at the motel?”

“I hardly think that would be appropriate.”

“He can contact me, then.” Eric scribbled his phone number on a scrap of paper from his wallet.

Wayne’s wife looked at the piece of paper he was holding out, but didn’t take it. “I know the phone number for the motel. He can call there if he wants to.”

“You’ll tell him we were here?”

She stepped backward, into her house and shut the door halfway. “Please go now. I don’t know where my husband is. There is nothing to find out from him about her. Not anymore. She’s been gone a long time, and he’s moved on.” She closed the door, and the locks shot home.

“Well,” Casey said as they made their way down the front walk. “I think we just met a woman who’s a little bit insecure.”

“And a little bit scared.”

“What do you think she’s scared of? She apparently doesn’t know anything that’s been going on around here today.”

“Or she doesn’t want to acknowledge it. There’s obviously some history with the whole Elizabeth story.”

Casey tried to think, but her brain felt sluggish. “So Elizabeth, who’s been gone for seventeen years, has somehow frightened this woman. She’s never met her. Why would she be scared of her?”

Eric looked at her sideways. “You’re not really that dense, are you?”

Casey considered it. “No. But this woman—we never did get her first name, did we?—has Wayne
now
. They have a home, at least one kid, a
life
. They’re married, for heaven’s sake. Have been for quite some time.”

“That doesn’t necessarily solve everything, Casey. You know that. Not when there’s another person—another
absent
person—who remains a part of their lives. A part of
his
life.”

“But after this many years?”

“It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, Casey. Twenty years, or two. Elizabeth will always remain, in Wayne’s mind, how she was back then. She won’t grow old. They won’t have fights, or stop being friends. She won’t do anything except just…be. And I gotta tell you, Casey, I feel for Wayne’s wife. Because no matter what she does, she’s never going to quite live up to the woman that
could
have been. It should be in every self-improvement book that’s ever been written, in order to avoid heartbreak—it’s practically impossible to compete with a ghost.”

Chapter Thirty-six

It was completely dark by the time they got back to their rooms. They didn’t talk much the last ten minutes of their walk. When they arrived at their doors, Eric looked at the sky. “Lots of stars out tonight.”

Casey stood beside him, close enough to almost touch, and gazed heavenward. “Pretty.”

Eric kept his face pointed up. “You’re pretty, too.”

Casey laughed. “Yeah.”

“I’m serious.”

She could feel him watching her, and she turned and looked into his warm, kind eyes. “I don’t get it, Eric.”

“What? Why I think you’re pretty? You’re fit, your hair’s a nice color, your smile’s amazing when you ever use it—”

“That’s the thing. I don’t use it. Not very often.”

“So?”

“You’re going on about ghosts and competing and everything. But I just don’t get it. Why do you even want to be with me? You and I both know there are other women who would take you in a heartbeat. You’re younger than me—”

“By what? Five years? Please.”

“—and far nicer. Look how you were with Robbie, and Billy, and even the lady at the pharmacy. And lord knows you don’t go around assaulting police officers.”

“You didn’t know he was a cop. Casey—”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Talking?”

She shook her head.

He stepped closer. Casey stood her ground, but closed her eyes so she wouldn’t see how close they were standing. “Eric, please.” He brushed some hair from her forehead, and she shuddered, wanting him to touch her some more. Wanting to run screaming into her hotel room.

“Casey, if you’d just give us a chance, I know we’d be good together.”

“How do you know that? From our four days of running around Clymer watching people die?” She felt him move away, and opened her eyes. “Eric, you hardly know me. I’ve got tons of emotional crap I’m lugging around, I’m no fun, and I don’t even live in a house.”

“You
have
a house.”

“In Colorado. What is that? A thousand miles from Ohio?”

“A little more, actually. But I don’t care. I can leave Ohio.”

“To live with a crabby, damaged woman you’ve known for less than a month, and who you had to get out of police custody?
Twice
.”

“Yes.”

She stepped back. “You’re crazy.”

“Maybe. But I’m also right.”

“About what?”

“You could be nicer, sure. But that’s fixable. You need me to tag along.” His lips tightened, like he wanted to smile but wasn’t sure he should. Or even could.

“Eric…” Casey put her hand up, to rest it on his chest, but at the last second she dropped it and turned to her room. “I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m no good for you. Not long-term.”