Flowers for Her Grave

by Judy Clemons

  “How come?”

  “Because she was smart. And a good person. She saw through him from the first.”

  “As did you.”

  “Of course.”

  Casey frowned. “Then why didn’t you do something about it?”

  “What was I going to do?”

  “I don’t know. Tell somebody.”

  “And who was I going to tell, exactly? The manager of the condo, who just happened to be sleeping with him, and makes all of the hiring decisions? I would’ve been the one without a job, not him.”

  Casey winced. “Did everyone know?”

  “About Sissy and Brandon? I don’t know about everyone, but let’s just say it wasn’t as big a secret as she thought.”

  “How old was he?”

  “Twenties. Late twenties, maybe, but still just twenties.”

  Casey shuddered. “What is wrong with the people here?”

  “The same thing that’s wrong with people everywhere. They want to be loved.”

  “You call that love? Going after men young enough to be your sons? Or seducing women twice your age just to get their money?”

  “I don’t, no. But most people just want someone. Look around you, Daisy. Who are you surrounded by? Single people. I know they advertise this place as a home for singles and young professional couples, but all the couples I know of—married ones, anyway—are out in the other two buildings, all retirement age and beyond. The Flamingo?” He held out his arms. “It’s filled with people who just want something better than what they have. Than what they are. Everyone wants to be younger, fitter, richer, sexier. No one’s happy with just…being themselves.”

  “Just like high school,” Casey said, repeating the words she’ said to Sensei Asuhara.

  Jack nodded. “Only worse. Because these people are old enough to know better. You wouldn’t believe the things I see…” He grabbed his cloth and began polishing the shiny metal area on his side of the counter.

  “What about things you saw?”

  He looked up.

  “Who did you see Brandon with? Anyone other than Sissy?”

  “I never saw him with her. And beyond that, he was pretty discreet, if you can believe it.”

  “Afraid of all the women he was screwing,” Casey said.

  Jack laughed. “As he should’ve been. It’s a wonder…” He stopped and shook his head.

  “What is?”

  “I was going to say it’s a wonder he’s not dead.”

  He looked like he wasn’t done talking, so Casey waited. He picked up a lemon and began cutting it into wedges. “There was one woman who really bothered me.”

  “She was after you?”

  “No, I mean it bothered me to see her with Brandon.”

  “And who was that?”

  He finished that lemon and grabbed another one. “The other fitness instructor.”

  “Laurie?”

  He cut the lemon in half with a whack. “She could be so pretty. She’s fit, she energetic, she’s nice with the residents—older ones, especially. I always wished…” He shook his head.

  “What, Jack?”

  “When I saw her with Brandon, the way she fawned over him, and they way he treated her like she was just a plaything…it made me want to spike his drink.”

  “And did you?”

  His seriousness broke, and he laughed. “Just in my fantasies.”

  A movement by the office caught Casey’s eye, and she saw the woman in Maria’s office accepting keys and grabbing a suitcase. She came out of the office and turned left, toward the elevator.

  Casey slid off the stool. “So did you ever tell her?”

  “Who?”

  “Laurie. Did you ever tell her you think she’s pretty?”

  “You crazy? Look at me. Do I seem like the kind of guy she’d want?”

  Casey smiled. “Good-looking, energetic, nice with residents…sounds like a good combination to me.”

  His face clouded. “Yeah, but you’re not like the other women here, are you? You really are who you claim to be.”

  Casey gave a small laugh. “Oh, Jack. I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

  He put down his knife and looked Casey right in the face. “Are you just pretending to be my friend? Or to care about Andrea? Or to be disgusted with the toxic atmosphere this place can produce?”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t care about anything else. You know what’s important.”

  “Do I?”

  “Look in your heart, Daisy Gray. See what’s important there. That’s who you are. Not blond hair or tan skin or white teeth. Your wishes. Your desires. Your honor. Look in your heart and tell me none of that’s there.”

  “And if I told you that everything you see in front of you is a façade? That I’m nothing like you think I am?”

  Jack smiled. “Then I’d say you’re a liar. And I’d be right. Now, weren’t you needing to talk to Maria? Looks like she’s free.”

  He tossed the lemon in the air, caught it, and moved down the bar, turning his back on Casey, the big, fat liar.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Casey wandered over to the office, trying to remember what she’d even come down there for. She took the seat the woman had just occupied. It was still warm. Maria looked tired, but was definitely back to her business-like self. Her nail polish wasn’t even chipped.

  She glanced up. “Can I help you, Ms. Gray?”

  “Um, new resident?”

  “Yes. All the way from Iowa. Very sweet and…innocent.”

  “Good for her.” She hesitated, still trying to get back to her thinking before the conversation with Jack.

  Maria waited. “Ms. Gray?”

  Oh. Right. “I was wondering if you could help me with a timeline.”

  “Timeline?”

  “Yes, the fitness guy before me. Brandon Greer. Exactly how long was he here?”

  Maria frowned. “Why do you need to know this?”

  “It’s not a secret, is it? I could ask the residents, but I don’t think you’d want that.”

  Maria’s jaw clenched. “No, we wouldn’t.”

  “So?”

  Maria pulled up a calendar on her computer, tapping the keys with her fingernails. “He arrived the beginning of June, and left two weeks before you got here.”

  “So basically, three months.”

  “That was long enough.” Her face and voice were both hard.

  “And the guy before him? Richie Miller, was it?”

  Maria’s jaw tightened again. “Yes. He was here a little longer. He came…” She clicked back several months. “In November of last year.”

  “So he was here six months?”

  “Seven.” Maria clasped her hands together on her desk. “Ms. Gray, why is this important?”

  “I don’t really know. Look, I heard from various people that Brandon was…unethical. That he was a cheat and a blackmailer. What can you tell me about that?”

  Maria went white, then glanced at Sissy’s door and lowered her voice. “He hurt several women…in different ways. Mrs. Williams wanted to stop him before he hurt any more.”

  Maria and Sissy included, although Casey didn’t say it. “Did you ever hear anything about Andrea being one of his victims? Or lovers?”

  Maria’s eyebrows went up. “No. Never.”

  “What about Andrea and Richie?”

  Maria went red now. “She was not involved with him, either. What are you suggesting, Ms. Gray?”

  “You’re sure about Richie? You sound very certain.”

  “I never saw anything that would have led me to believe Richie was involved with Andrea Parker when he was here.”

  So they’d hid it well. At least from the administration. “What about other women? Did he have any favorites?”

  “This is not something I am free to discuss, Ms. Gray. Maybe you should wait until Mrs. Williams can talk to you.”

  “Fine. I’ll wait. But while I’m waiting, d
o you have any photos of Richie? Or Brandon, for that matter.”

  “Why would I?”

  “I don’t know. Employee file, community activities…”

  Maria turned to her computer and typed. “Here. This is Brandon.” She swiveled the monitor so Casey could see the photo, which was taken in a weight room—not the Flamingo’s. He stood sideways, smiling and holding a huge barbell, his biceps bulging more than seemed natural.

  Casey wrinkled her nose. What a letdown. He was huge, yeah, but with one of those wrestler necks that sort of merged his head with his shoulders in a weird, alien-like way. He was both young and blond, which would be selling points, but his nose was weirdly small, and his eyes a bit too close together. You’d think if he was so attractive to all those ladies he would be a lot better looking. “I guess it was his personality?” Casey said.

  Maria sniffed. “He did have an…aura. If you like that sort of thing.”

  “How about Richie? Any photos of him?”

  Maria looked uncertain.

  “From when he applied, maybe?”

  Maria swiveled the monitor back her way and typed for a bit, paging up and down. “Here.” She glanced again at Sissy’s door, and kept her hand on the monitor, like she was ready to spin it back around at a moment’s notice.

  Casey smiled. Now this guy was more like it. She was surprised the women hadn’t gone for him. He looked as nice as they’d all said, with sandy brown hair and an easy smile. He wasn’t nearly the size of Brandon, but Casey thought he looked better. More like a normal person. “Now he’s cute,” Casey said. “Much more worth getting to know, don’t you think?”

  Maria sniffed again. Was she allergic to these photos? She turned the monitor back toward herself again and clicked out of the picture.

  “From what I hear, Sissy pretty much told him if she ever saw him again she’d slap a lawsuit on him.”

  Maria’s nostrils flared. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Was he really that bad?”

  Maria rested her elbow on the desk and kneaded her forehead. “I think he bit off more than he could chew here, but that he was really a good person at heart. Many of the things that happened were not his fault, but Mrs. Williams needed someone to blame, and he was convenient. It’s much easier to fire someone who’s only been with you a little while than to lose residents who bring in money.”

  “Yes. That’s what I thought. Everyone else seemed to really like him. Andrea included. I really wonder if there wasn’t more to him than people realized. You seem to realize it. Were you and Richie close?”

  Maria jerked her elbow off the desk. “I have to go. It’s the beginning of the weekend, and I need to get home. You can let yourself into Mrs. Williams’ office when she’s ready.”

  “Oh. Of course. That’s no problem.”

  Maria yanked her purse out of her desk, dropped it, picked it up, and grabbed her jacket, buttoning it wrong and re-doing it. “Goodnight, Ms. Gray.”

  “Goodnight, Maria.”

  Casey watched her go, startled at her sudden departure. As soon as she’d gone, Sissy’s door opened. She came out holding some papers, and jumped when she saw Casey.

  Casey smiled. “Sorry to startle you.”

  Sissy fanned herself. “Don’t mind me. I just wanted… Where’s Maria?”

  “She left. Said she was headed home for the weekend.”

  Sissy frowned. “It’s not even five yet.”

  “I think I made her nervous, sitting here.”

  “Yes, I can see that. She doesn’t like to be watched over.”

  “Who does?”

  “Speaking of watching over, did you go up to see the Parkers?”

  “Yes. They’re wondering when they can take Andrea’s body home.”

  Sissy’s face fell. “What did you tell them?”

  “I don’t know why they were asking me. But I said when the cops were ready for them to take her, they could.”

  “You don’t know more specifically than that?”

  “How would I?”

  “Well, you seem to be chummy with the cops.”

  “I’m not.”

  “But you want to be,” Death said.

  Casey spun around, heart in her throat.

  Death was in the other chair, one leg flung over the arm, back to wearing the cop uniform. “Or were you just flushed from the heat in the pool room the last time Gomez came around?”

  “Everything okay, Daisy?” Sissy stood frozen, one arm extended over Maria’s desk as she held the papers.

  “Yes, I’m fine. And I’m not involved with any cops.”

  Death chuckled.

  “They only talk to me because I’m the one who found Andrea. Really.”

  Sissy took a step back toward her office. “Of course. Um, I have some more things to do. I’ll be in here.” She backed into her office and shut the door.

  “Where have you been?” Casey growled at Death.

  “What? Now you want me around? You really need to make up your mind.”

  “Things have been happening.” She told Death about the note from Richie.

  “I don’t understand how that could involve me,” Death said.

  “It doesn’t. Not everything is about—Oh. Right. Andrea’s dead. But here, you might be interested in these.” Maria had left in such a rush she’d forgotten to turn off the computer. Casey went around the desk and clicked around until she found Richie’s picture again. “That’s Richie Miller. Isn’t he cute? He and Andrea would have made an adorable couple.”

  “Adorable. But why are you showing me?”

  “Because I thought you’d be interested to see who came before me. Let’s see if I can…” She searched some more. “Here he is. This is Brandon Greer. What do you think? Kind of disappointing, isn’t he?”

  But Death didn’t answer. Instead, Death went pale and made a choking sound.

  Casey looked from Death to Brandon’s picture, and back again. “What’s wrong?”

  “Who is that?”

  “Brandon. You know, the guy right before me. The blackmailing Don Juan.”

  “It can’t be.”

  Casey stopped breathing for a moment. “You mean you know this guy? You’ve seen him…before?”

  Death swallowed. “His name is not Brandon Greer. This guy’s name is Wayne Pritchfield. He died last night in an apartment a couple towns over from here. He’d been stabbed to death with a kitchen knife.”

  A cold chill ran down Casey’s spine, and she shivered. “Brandon Greer is dead?”

  “No, Wayne Pritchfield is. Murdered.”

  “Do you know who killed him?”

  “Nope. Didn’t ask. He wasn’t real talkative at the time.”

  A noise came from Sissy’s office, and Casey clicked away from Brandon’s—or Wayne’s — photo. She jumped up and practically ran to the service stairs. She flew into her apartment and right to the bathroom, where she stood over the toilet for a few moments, afraid she was going to throw up. Nothing happened, except she got covered in cold, clammy sweat.

  “Wow, you look nasty.”

  Casey slammed the door in Death’s face, and when Death’s face poked through the door, she threw a bar of soap at it. Death retreated.

  Casey stood under a hot shower until she stopped shaking, then washed her hair twice and scrubbed her body, as if she’d been sullied somehow. Brandon Greer was dead. Murdered. That changed everything. No wonder the folders were still in the bank. He’d still been around, all along. No one had known it, apparently. They’d thought he’d cut all ties, but he must have had other reasons to remain silent. Now he didn’t have a choice. He’d be silent now because he was dead.

  She had to tell Binns.

  She turned off the shower, wrapped up in a towel, and went out to the living room to get her phone. She got Binns’ voice mail.

  “Call me,” Casey said. “It’s urgent.”

  Casey scrabbled through the desk and found an old phone book. She dialed th
e police department.

  “Raceda Police.”

  “Detective Binns, please.”

  “She’s not available right now, may I take a message?”

  “How about Officer Gomez?”

  “You should have his number, anyway,” Death said. “For when you get that yearning in the middle of the night.”

  “He is also out of the building.”

  Casey ground her teeth. “Have Detective Binns call Daisy Gray, please. It’s important, about the murder at the Flamingo.”

  “Of course. I’ll get her the message right away.”

  Casey hung up and stood, still dripping, in her living room.

  “Um, you might want to put on some clothes,” Death said.

  Casey dried herself off, yanked on some jeans and a blouse, and brushed her hair. “Good enough?”

  “Hope so, ‘cause Dylan’s just about here.”

  “What?”

  “Your date, remember?”

  A knock came from the door. Casey strode to it and swung it open. Dylan stood there, with an entire bouquet of roses this time.

  “What are you doing here?” Casey said.

  “Um, dinner, remember?”

  “Yes, and we’re meeting in the lobby at six-thirty.”

  “I couldn’t remember. And I couldn’t find my phone to call and ask.”

  “Didn’t you ever pick it up in the gym this morning, after Tamille scared you half to death?”

  “Oh. Duh. I couldn’t think of where I’d left it. All that terror must have erased my memory.”

  Casey shook her head. “Well, come in, then. I’m almost ready, anyway.”

  Casey went to put on some shoes, making sure she had her phone for when Binns called back. When she got back to the living room, Dylan was looking out her window. “Nice view.”

  “Would be nicer if I actually saw the ocean, but then these wouldn’t be the cheap seats.”

  “I have a view of downtown from my place, which isn’t all that exciting, believe me. I’d much rather see the pool and palm trees.”

  Casey stood beside him and looked down at the pool, where people had already begun the weekend. A couple dozen people were in the water or lounging around it, with a waiter going in-between tables, taking orders.

  “So, Dylan, you were here when Brandon got the fitness job, right?”