by Judy Clemens
The man sighed again, and the bed squeaked as he stood up. Casey squinted, trying to slide under the bed and at the same time see the shoes as he turned around. It was hard to tell, the fringes of the comforter disguising the shoes.
Suddenly, she was no longer looking at shoes, but at knees, and then a face as he looked under the bed. His eyes went wide and he fell backward, yelling and propelling himself toward the closet, crab-like.
Casey jumped up, her hands out in front of her. “Eric! I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
He stared at her, his feet splayed out in front of him, his back smashed against the closet door. His eyes bugged from his head, and he breathed in labored gasps. “Holy shit, Casey! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I said I’m sorry. And I was pretty close to a heart attack myself.”
He pulled his knees up and looked down at his pants. “At least I didn’t wet myself. I don’t think.”
Casey circled the bed and sat on it. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes narrowed. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I’m looking for what we didn’t find at the factory.”
His clasped his hands around his knees. “Yeah. Me, too. I knew where she kept things…” He gestured toward the closet. “But there’s nothing there but photographs and old love letters.” His face flushed, and Casey looked away, trying to spare him some embarrassment.
“And then,” he said, “I thought maybe under the bed. I didn’t get very far under there.” A smile flickered on his face.
“Yeah. Sorry about that.” Casey knelt down by the bed. “Nothing under here except these.” She pulled out a pair of fluffy blue slippers.
Eric’s face crumpled for a moment, but he regained his composure. “She liked those. Even wore them to rehearsal one time.”
Casey returned them and sat back on the bed. “So where else do we look?”
“Where have you checked?”
She recounted her path. “I didn’t check the kids’ bedrooms because I thought she wouldn’t hide anything there. What do you think?”
He considered it. “She wouldn’t if she thought there was any way it would hurt one of them. But…” He shrugged. “If it was a great hiding place…”
Casey stood. “Well, then, we’d better look.” She hesitated, then held out a hand.
He took it and pulled himself to his feet. “What if it hadn’t been me?”
She swallowed, not liking to think of Karl Willems or Chief Reardon discovering her crouched behind Ellen’s bed. “I don’t know.”
He nodded. “Come on, then.”
Working by regular light was much easier than by a thin flashlight beam. Riskier, too, but she figured Eric wouldn’t be getting in trouble for going through his old girlfriend’s house.
Each taking a side of the older child’s room, they went through the stash of clothes, toys, and books. Nothing. Casey reached just a little farther, into the back corner of the closet. Her hand wrapped around a carrying case. She brought it out and unzipped the cover.
“Look at this, Eric. From when we were kids.” A Walkman, complete with the foam-covered earphones that never stayed on.
Eric gave a small grin. “Yeah, that was Hunter’s. He won it at his grandmother’s Christmas bingo.”
Casey waited for more explanation.
“Ellen’s mom gathers garage sale type stuff, or things she gets from the local thrift store, or Dollar Store. The cousins—there are six of them, counting Ellen’s two—play Bingo, and when they get a bingo they can pick something from the pile. Hunter picked the CD player, but stopped using it when he got an iPod for his birthday. I guess…I guess Ellen never bothered to get rid of it.”
Casey looked down at the player. It sure brought back memories. Saving her baby-sitting money until she had enough to buy her own, the pride she felt leaving the store. The first time she dropped it, and from then on it would skip… She popped the player open, somehow expecting to see a CD of one of her old favorites from her youth. The Cars, or Huey Lewis and the News.
“Eric.” Her voice sounded strangely calm.
She held up the CD player, showing him the contents. The CD-Rom, a generic one from the store, had no title. Nothing scribbled on it in black sharpie. But it wasn’t a regular CD, and if Hunter had a bootleg music CD, he most likely would’ve made sure he knew what was on it.
“Eric?”
He and Casey both jerked up at the sound. Someone else was in the house.
Casey took the CD from the player and shoved the Walkman into its carrying case, tossing it back into the corner of the closet. She closed the door and nodded to Eric.
He left the room. “Yeah?”
“I saw your car out there.”
It was a man’s voice, and Casey thought she recognized it.
“What are you doing here so late at night, son?”
Great. It really was the chief of police. Casey looked around for a CD cover, but finding nothing shoved the CD itself into the waistband at the back of her pants, pulling her shirt over it.
“Just looking around, Denny. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Uh-huh.” It was quiet for a few moments before Casey heard movement toward Hunter’s room. Chief Reardon filled the doorway—as much as a guy his size could fill it—and regarded Casey with a mixture of surprise and resignation. “And what are you doing here?”
“Keeping me company.” Eric pushed gently past the chief and came to stand beside Casey. “It’s not easy coming here, you know.”
“Yeah. I know.” He put his hands on his hips and looked around the room. “And the reason you’re in Hunter’s room?”
“He wanted me to get something. Mail it to him.” Eric’s voice was surprisingly even.
“Really? And what was that?”
“His Pokemon game.” Eric snatched the game disk from the desktop. “He took his GameBoy, but left this by mistake.”
Casey tried to look unconcerned, and prayed desperately that Hunter really had taken his GameBoy, and it wasn’t sitting in full view on the desk.
“I see. So you’re about done here, then?” The chief kept his eyes on Casey as he talked, the message in them clear.
“We’re done,” Eric said. “Thanks for checking in.”
“Neighbors called. Said someone was over here looking around. They thought it strange that the person didn’t turn on the lights, but seemed to be going around with just a flashlight.”
Casey looked steadily at the chief.
“Well, as you can see,” Eric said. “We’ve got the lights full on.”
“Yes. But it makes me wonder who else might’ve been here.”
Eric made a non-committal noise. “That is curious.” He turned to Casey. “Well, shall we go? Now that we got what we came for?” His eyes were asking the question—Did she have it?
Casey nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”
Chief Reardon stood aside to let Eric pass, but moved his shoulder back into the doorway when Casey approached. “Interesting to see you here, Ms. Smith.”
“And you.”
“I suppose you remember our conversation earlier today.”
“Of course.”
“That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to think I forget about folks who are new to town.”
Casey met his eyes. “Oh, I would never think that. Chief.”
He held her gaze for a few more moments before turning so she could pass. Eric looked at her with some confusion, but she gave a small shake of her head, moving past him toward the front door.
“See you later, Denny,” Eric said.
Casey didn’t hear the chief reply. And she didn’t look back. All she wanted to do was get far out of his line of sight.
Chapter Thirty
“Okay,” Eric said, driving away from Ellen’s house. “I am officially freaked out.”
Casey didn’t answer, feeling enough the same way she was afraid her voice would show it. Instead, she closed her eye
s and concentrated on her breathing, trying to ignore the fact that she was, once again, in a car.
“You have the CD?”
She opened her eyes and pulled it out from the back of her pants, wiping it on her shirt. “Got it. Shall we listen to it?”
He looked at the disk, licking the sides of his mouth. “I guess. That’s what we got it for, right? And maybe…” He hesitated. “Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it really is an album—or a movie—Hunter got off the Internet.”
“Sure, it could be.” But Casey knew it wasn’t. She could feel it. She slid it into the CD player.
Nothing.
“So it’s not audio,” Eric said. “It’s a DVD. We have to watch it.”
Casey ejected it from the player. “Where should we go?” She really didn’t want to go to Eric’s place, just the two of them, this late at night. “How about your mom’s place? They’ve got that great TV.”
He grimaced.
“Oh,” Casey said. “Another present from your dad?”
“Irritating, but true. And I have to admit Mom and Rosemary have really enjoyed it.”
“Unlike the Orion.”
He grinned. “What Orion?”
The lights were still on at The Nesting Place, and the women came hurtling into the foyer at the sound of the front door.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re all right,” Rosemary said, crushing Casey in a hug. “You were taking so long. And you.” She pointed at Eric. “What are you doing here?”
Lillian hung back from the group, her eyes shadowed, waiting for Eric’s response.
He cleared his throat. “Um, Casey and I sort of…met up…at Ellen’s house.”
Rosemary frowned. “You went there.”
“Yes.”
“On your own.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “And you found Casey going through Ellen’s things.”
“Well…” He glanced at Casey. “She sort of scared the crap out of me, but I’m over it now.”
Casey held up the DVD. “We found something.”
The women’s eyes locked onto the disk.
“We think,” Eric said.
“Well,” Rosemary said. “Let’s watch it. Or is it something to listen to?”
“Watch, we think.”
“Then come along.”
Together they trooped into the parlor, where Rosemary held out a hand for the disk, then ceremoniously placed it in the DVD player. She remained standing, her eyes on the screen. Casey stood beside her, with Eric on the other side of the TV. Lillian alone sat, but pulled the ottoman close so she could be within their little circle.
An image came suddenly onto the screen. HomeMaker. A wide-angle of the parking lot. The picture, a date at the bottom which said the footage was two weeks old, narrowed slowly, coming to rest on the first row of cars.
“There’s Karl’s car,” Eric said. “And Yvonne’s. And that one…it’s mine.”
“Whose are the other two?” Casey asked.
“Don’t know.” He looked down at Lillian, but she shook her head.
“Wait.” Casey pointed at the car on the far right, one of the two unidentified ones. “There’s somebody in there. Two people.”
They all leaned toward the screen, as if that would help them to see more clearly.
Rosemary let out a sound of exasperation. “It’s impossible to tell who it is.”
“Maybe they’ll get out of the car.” Casey hoped so, because otherwise this was a bust. “Here they come.”
A man got out of the driver’s side and crossed around the back, opening the passenger door. He held out his hand and a woman took it, stepping from the car.
Rosemary narrowed her eyes. “Who are they?”
Eric shrugged. “Never seen them before.”
They walked into the building, leaning on each other, the man’s arm around the woman’s waist.
The picture switched suddenly to the inside of the office, and Yvonne, Karl’s secretary, whom Casey had met earlier that day—came into view, as seen from the vantage point of Ellen’s desk. The image was lopsided, as if the camera were strapped to something, or set in a place that would be hidden, perhaps by the computer. The date was the day following the footage of the parking lot.
“What are we looking at?” Eric said. “I mean, other than the office?”
“Karl’s door.” Casey pointed to the left of the screen, where the door was clearly visible past Yvonne’s left shoulder. “Maybe somebody’s in there who will be coming out soon.”
“Is there sound?” Rosemary got the remote and turned the volume up. They heard the generic sounds of air-conditioning, computer keyboarding, and the occasional comment or question from Yvonne to Kathy.
Minutes passed in which they watched Yvonne work on the computer—words flying across her screen as she typed—talk on the phone, and file papers.
“How did Ellen get this?” Eric asked. “She certainly wasn’t working there anymore.”
Casey considered it. “Either she got someone else to plant it, or she snuck in and placed it herself, using a timer to start filming when she wanted. Is there someone who would help her with that?”
“Here we go,” Rosemary said. “Look.” Karl Willems’ door opened.
Yvonne looked up at the open door, and even as she continued working smiled up at Karl.
No, she wasn’t smiling at Karl. She was smiling at the person behind him, who came through the door directly on the CEO’s heels.
It was Eric.
Chapter Thirty-one
Eric’s face grew even whiter than before. “Me? Why was she taping me?”
Rosemary paused the disk and looked from Lillian to Eric. “Okay. What is going on?”
Lillian sat like stone on her stool, looking at the wall, somewhere past the television console. Eric shook his head repeatedly, in short bursts, as if rejecting the image on the screen.
Casey placed a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes. Had she been completely wrong about this whole thing? Was Eric somehow involved in putting the townspeople out of work? Or in killing Ellen?
No. She couldn’t be wrong.
But then, Death was awfully anxious for her to befriend him.
“Eric,” she said, “you’ve got to think back. What happened that day? What were you doing there? Why were you talking to Karl?”
He ran his fingers through his hair roughly, pulling it into peaks, as he had done in his office. “I don’t know. When was it?”
They looked at the date on the screen, jittering slightly on the frozen image.
“Two weeks ago this past Tuesday,” Rosemary said. “Ten-forty-three AM.”
Eric’s hands remained on his head as he thought. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“Think.” Casey wanted to shake him.
He sighed loudly. “There was a day I went to talk with Karl about COBRA. You know, the insurance for the workers once they’re laid off. And severance packages.” He thought some more. “I went once to ask why I hadn’t been copied on some memos. I had to find out from people at dinner—Home Sweet Home—that the move to Mexico had been pushed back two weeks.” He looked up at Casey. “But I don’t know which day that would’ve been. Maybe if I went home and looked at my calendar…”
Casey sat back on her heels and looked up at Rosemary. Rosemary’s hair, usually so cheerful and bright, looked out-of-place now over her lined and pale face. Lillian, still seated on the ottoman, kneaded her hands on her lap, chewing her lip.
Casey stood. “Let’s watch the rest of the footage.”
Lillian turned so quickly she almost lost her balance. “So we can see more of that? Accusations against Eric?”
Casey waved a hand at the television. “There was no accusation. Just a film of him coming out of Karl’s office. If we keep watching, maybe we’ll see something that would make more sense.”
They all looked at Eric. He took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring. “Yes. Okay. I
know there was no reason for her to be filming me. I want to know what else there is.”
Casey nodded, and waited for Rosemary to press Play on the remote. When she didn’t, Casey stepped forward, pushing the button on the machine.
The footage went back into motion, with Yvonne watching as Eric and Karl left the picture. Her face was expressionless, her smile disappearing the instant Eric was gone. She grabbed a notebook and pen and stood. Karl Willems swept by the table and she followed, disappearing into his office.
Casey looked sideways at Eric as he watched, wondering what he was feeling. Sorrow? Surprise? Perhaps even guilt? She didn’t like to consider that.
A few minutes of footage passed with only the office sounds, the image framing Yvonne’s desk and Karl’s door. Soon the door opened and Yvonne came out, her face stony, her posture stiff. “I’m going out for a minute,” she said.
Kathy said that was fine.
Yvonne dug in her purse, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a cell phone, and left. The image held on the empty desk. Rosemary, focused again on the task, fast-forwarded until Yvonne was back in her seat. There were several more minutes of keyboarding, which Rosemary fast-forwarded, until Yvonne reached for her phone. Rosemary rewound to just before the movement.
A beep sounded over the speaker, and Yvonne leaned over to grab her handset. She glanced up, toward the front of the office. “Of course. Thank you.” She replaced the phone and stood, waiting for someone. They could see by her face when the person appeared, for it became slightly more animated, although still professional. “Good morning, Mr. Nolan.”
Eric glanced over at Casey. Todd?
It was Todd, and he didn’t wait for Yvonne to lead him to the door, surging past with an energy Casey hadn’t yet seen in him.
Yvonne was able to sneak past him at the last moment in order to open the door, but Todd pushed directly by her and into the room. Yvonne stood there for a few seconds before stepping back and shutting the door. She looked over at Kathy with an expression of surprise, and sat back at her desk.