Flowers for Her Grave

by Judy Clemons

  “I will if I need to.”

  She watched as he headed toward the pool, his stride growing stronger the further he got from her.

  “Superficial,” Death muttered.

  “Just young. And he’s got an excuse—you missed everything from the past couple of hours. Come on, and I’ll tell you about it.”

  Casey and Death walked past the palm trees to the private beach as she talked. Several couples had the same idea of semi-privacy, either strolling along the edge of the water or lying on blankets.

  “So it looks like Maria killed both Brandon and Andrea, and has now taken off with Andrea’s man?” Death took a deep breath and blew at the water, causing a wave to crash onto the shore, tinged with ice.

  “You said Haiti wasn’t pretty. This isn’t, either. And I’m having a hard time believing it all. It seems so…complicated. Did Maria know about Andrea, or not? Was Richie going to marry her now? And why did Maria wait so long to kill Andrea after she knew about her? I have all these theories, but none of them really works.”

  Death conjured up a stone and threw it into the sea. “Remember back on your first day, when Maria stood here and said how un-beautiful things could be? We had no idea what she was really talking about, or how ugly it was going to become for her. For everyone close to her.”

  Casey stood for several minutes, listening to the waves, trying to erase the movie in her head of Maria pummeling Andrea to death, and stabbing Brandon. Something about the whole scenario was still eluding her. But perhaps that didn’t matter anymore. Binns was on the case. She turned back toward the building. “I’ve had enough. Let’s go.”

  At the pool, Casey spied Del overseeing a table of food. He wore a tall, white chef’s hat, and a smile a mile wide. Casey was glad he could start his restaurant free of guilt. She saw other people, too. Vonnie, the gossip, surrounded by a group of women, all talking loudly, each hoping to be heard over the others. Bernie, the older woman who had been one of Brandon’s conquests, leaning a little too close to a younger man. Marcus, Casey’s Energizer Bunny client, handing a drink with an umbrella to Sissy, who sat on a high stool by a little round table. Sissy caught Casey’s eye and held up the drink, as in a toast. Casey didn’t respond. It was all too weird. All of these people, back to normal, with Andrea dead less than a week, Brandon gone forever, and Maria’s life basically over. But then, none of them even knew about that.

  Casey looked a little further and found Tamille with a small cluster of people along the side of the pool, their feet dangling in the water. Casey was going to walk right past, but Tamille spotted her. “Hey, girl! Come have a drink!”

  “No, thanks. I’m headed up. I’m exhausted.”

  “Want some company?”

  “No, I’m good, thanks. Enjoy yourself.”

  Casey continued on into the building. The lobby bar was much more subdued than the pool area, but there were people in small groups, talking quietly over drinks. Jack leaned on the bar, talking to a woman on a stool. Casey smiled when she saw who it was, and walked over. “Hey, you two.”

  Jack smiled. “Hey, yourself.”

  Laurie turned and smiled at her. Casey wouldn’t say she looked like a new woman, but she was a far cry from the crazed lunatic in the bushes the night before.

  Jack held up a glass. “Want a drink?”

  “No, thanks. I’m headed upstairs. It’s been a long, long week.”

  Laurie almost met Casey’s eyes, but not quite. “I’m sorry about…everything.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. You’ve had a rough time, haven’t you?”

  Laurie’s lips twitched, and she sent a quick glance toward Jack before looking back at Casey. “I’m hoping things are about to get better.”

  “Yes. I hope so, too.”

  Jack winked at Casey. “I told Laurie here I much prefer talking to women my own age. Those young things don’t have enough between their ears to keep me interested. If all someone has to offer is a pretty outside, they’re not worth the time it takes to learn more than their name. Someone with some miles under her belt, now, is much more interesting.” He shot an admiring look at Laurie. “Laurie here has the potential to keep my attention for quite some time.”

  Laurie blushed prettily, her eyes meeting Jack’s.

  Jack tore his eyes from hers and nodded toward the other side of the room. “Thought that might interest you, Daisy.”

  In a darkened corner, Krystal sat with Andrea’s parents on a sofa. What looked like a photo album lay open on Mrs. Parker’s lap, and Krystal leaned over, pointing at something. Her arm was on the older woman’s shoulders, and Mr. Parker looked at the book with the closest Casey had seen him to having animation.

  “You know what that’s about?”

  Jack shook his head. “No idea. None of my business, anyway, is it?”

  “Of course not.” Casey yawned widely, and covered it with her hand. “Sorry.”

  “Go get some rest, Daisy. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Right.”

  Laurie touched her arm. “And maybe we can have that talk about water aerobics sometime?”

  Casey smiled. “I’d like that.”

  She left the two talking, and headed toward the elevator. Krystal looked up as Casey passed, and waved her over. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “This morning. Taking care of me. For forgiving my behavior this week.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “And thank you from us, too.” Mrs. Parker regarded Casey with watery eyes.

  Casey nodded. “You looking at pictures of Andrea?”

  “One of her albums.” Krystal sat back so Casey could see the pages. Photos of Andrea. Laughing. Smiling. Arms around friends. In the pool. At work.

  With Richie.

  “So she really was involved with him.”

  Krystal sniffed. “He’s a great guy. Terrible aerobics teacher, but super person. He and Andrea were so perfect for each other. I don’t know what he’s going to do now.”

  Casey figured she knew. He would run far away with Maria and her kids, where no one could find them. But one thing still bugged her. She leaned toward Krystal, speaking quietly. “I know about Maria.”

  Krystal’s mouth dropped.

  “But I was wondering—did Maria know about Andrea?”

  “Of course. She helped get them together in the first place.”

  That made so much more sense. Maria was older than Richie—not that that seemed to matter here at the Flamingo—and seemed so put together. Casey just couldn’t imagine she really had romantic notions about someone like Richie, who seemed so young and inexperienced. “But Richie and Andrea’s being engaged—didn’t that get in the way of Maria getting citizenship?”

  “Of course not. They’d promised her they would stick around until she was set.”

  “But he couldn’t marry her anymore, if he was going to marry Andrea.”

  Krystal let out a surprised laugh. “He was going to marry Maria?”

  “Well, wasn’t he? I thought that was the best way of securing her place in the US.”

  “That was never in the plan. Really. Even Richie, with all his good intentions, wasn’t going to marry a woman for a green card.”

  “So what was the plan?”

  “He was an advocate. Look, he may not be a fitness guru, but he’s got a way with people. He spent hours with the INS, trying to figure out just what Maria needed to be secure.”

  “So if the whole love triangle thing wasn’t a problem, why didn’t Andrea go live with them? Why stay here and pretend the whole relationship didn’t exist?”

  “I asked them the same thing. But as I said, they weren’t going to leave without knowing Maria and the kids would be okay, and who knew how long that would take? As long as they were here, it only made sense for Andrea to keep her job. Richie obviously wasn’t working, so they needed the money. If Andrea would have moved out, but still worked at the bank, people from here would have seen her, and
that could have led them back to Richie, and we know what trouble that would have caused.”

  “With Sissy.”

  “Right. The old witch.”

  Ouch. “But Richie stopped calling Andrea two weeks ago. Why would he do that if Maria knew about her?”

  “So the cops identified his number, huh?” Krystal smiled grimly. “Yeah. Someone else identified it, too, and made threats to tell the cops. Or at least tell Sissy.”

  “Brandon.”

  Krystal frowned. “Asshole. He just couldn’t let anyone do anything good. As one of his final gifts, he assured Maria he’d be keeping tabs on her. If she stopped paying him off, he would go to the authorities. And he would let Sissy know where she could find Richie. He thought he was so smart.”

  “So Richie really was a good guy.”

  “Yeah. The best. And Andrea was an even better woman.”

  Then why on earth would Maria kill Andrea? Brandon, she could see, but to murder a woman who only wanted what was best for Maria and her family? The whole thing felt so wrong.

  “So who’s that?” Casey pointed at a picture on the far page that showed Andrea with a little girl.

  “Oh, her.” Krystal shifted in her seat, not saying anything.

  Casey recognized the child, and leaned down to talk quietly into Krystal’s ear. “She’s yours, isn’t she?”

  Krystal jerked her head up. “What?”

  “It’s okay. I won’t tell anybody.”

  Krystal’s eyes watered. “We only saw her the one time. Andrea helped me find her. We visited, but that was it. It’s over. She’s happy where she is.”

  “But she’s a secret, isn’t she?”

  Krystal’s lips trembled. “For now, yes. She was…that was a hard time for me.”

  “I understand.” Casey stood back up. “And now I’m going to say goodnight.”

  “You’re not going to tell them we found Andrea’s murderer?” Death hovered over the photo album, looking at the photos upside-down. “And that it’s the woman who has now set off with Andrea’s fiancé?”

  Casey shook her head. The Parkers were already back in their own world, looking at photos of their daughter, and the last thing Casey needed was to have them or Krystal freaking out in the lobby. Informing the family was the cops’ job, anyway. She’d let Binns and Gomez have that privilege. She turned away, but Krystal grabbed her wrist.

  “You’ll keep my secret?”

  “No one will hear it from me. And Krystal…no one’s going to hear it from Brandon, either. You’re safe from him.”

  “Safe?”

  Casey was glad to see surprise in Krystal’s eyes. Even though Casey was certain Maria had killed him, she was relieved to have confirmation that Krystal was innocent.

  “Brandon’s…dead.”

  “What? How?”

  “Look up the news from last night, about the single man in Birmingham, Florida, who was stabbed to death. But for now, just know your secret is safe.”

  Krystal’s eyes filled, whether with relief or sadness, Casey wasn’t sure. “Thank you. Thank you, Daisy.”

  Casey slid her arm from Krystal’s grasp and walked toward the stairs.

  “Those are three miserable people right there,” Death said. “Glad I don’t have to hang out with them.”

  “Right. I’m so much more uplifting and cheerful.”

  Casey trudged up the service stairs toward her room, thinking of all of the people at the pool, and in the bar. All of the people in this community who were connecting, interacting with each other, even if it was like high school, all over again. She wanted only to get inside her apartment, turn out all the lights, and climb under her covers.

  And call her brother.

  Oh, Ricky. Why does this have to be so hard?

  She went into her apartment, stripped off her clothes, and crawled into bed. And couldn’t sleep.

  “What’s the problem?” Death sat propped up against the headboard on the opposite side of the bed.

  “It just feels so wrong. Richie and Andrea were trying to help. Trying to make sure Maria and her children were safe. How did it turn out so badly? What made Maria turn on them?”

  “Life isn’t all tied up neatly, I’m afraid.” Death sounded tired. “It’s a mystery to me why the Big Kahuna chose to let people run free in the first place. It would have been so much simpler to just tell them what to do. No war. No starvation. No oppression.”

  “No cars being built badly so they explode on impact.”

  Death sighed heavily. “My job would be very different, I suppose. Every death would be expected. Old age. Surrounded by loved ones, in the home. Plenty of time to make amends, show love, clean out the attic. All nice and neat.” Death paused. “But then, the world would be overrun with people. Kind of like the whole thing about prey and predator in the wild. When the predator population decreases, the prey increases, and they end up starving to death, or being forced out of their territory because there are too many critters.”

  “So people are like wild animals?”

  “Well, yes, in a lot of ways. But you have a few things most animals don’t.”

  “And what are those?”

  “Opposable thumbs. Literacy. Compassion.”

  “Compassion.” Casey sat up and rolled out of bed.

  “What did I say?”

  “I told Krystal that Brandon is no longer a threat, but I haven’t let others know.”

  “They’ll find out soon enough.”

  “But I have the ability to tell them now.”

  “Okay, okay. If it means we’ll get some sleep later.”

  Casey pulled her clothes back on and went out to the vent to grab Brandon’s files. “Let’s make some deliveries.”

  “Binns is going to be mad if you don’t give her those folders.”

  “Let her.”

  Together she and Death were able to find most of the women listed on the files. Only a few of them were home, and while Casey wasn’t exactly received with warmth—they were embarrassed at being conned, after all—she could see the relief in their eyes. She gave each of them Detective Binns’ contact information, telling them that while she wasn’t sure they could get a return of any of their money, they could give it a shot. This approach was better than giving Binns the information. The women could make their own choice this way. The ones who weren’t home would return to a file shoved under their door, with a note saying they were free. Casey hoped this would be enough to ease their minds.

  “Only one left.” Casey held up Sissy’s file. “I’d kind of like to give her this in person.”

  “She was out at the pool being courted by Marcus, remember?”

  “Hmm. I hate to interrupt if he’s getting somewhere.”

  “But it might make her a little more receptive to know her problems with Brandon are a thing of the past. At least financially. Maybe not heart-wise. But we can’t do anything about that.”

  “You’re right. Let’s just have a peek and see if she’s still there.”

  Casey and Death walked back toward the Flamingo from the Pelican, where they’d made their last drop off. Sissy was not in sight at the pool, and neither was Marcus.

  “Well,” Death said. “The man does quick work.”

  “They probably just went somewhere quieter to talk.”

  “Whatever you want to think.”

  “I know what I don’t want to think, and that’s about them going off to do something else.” Casey shuddered. “I’ve had enough close up viewing of that this week.”

  “So what now?”

  “I really don’t feel like going back to the Palm and figuring out where she lives. Let’s check her office.”

  It was after midnight now, but the bar was still hopping. Open till two on the weekends. Krystal and Andrea’s parents were gone, but Laurie still sat at the end of the bar. Jack filled some orders, then sauntered back to talk with her. Casey couldn’t help but feel just a little proud they seemed to be hitting
it off.

  “Office is dark,” Death said.

  “Let’s see where we could leave it.”

  Her key got her into the receptionist’s area—where Maria would never return—but not into Sissy’s office.

  “Well, I guess shoving it under the door will have to do. I really don’t want to keep this until morning.”

  “Go for it.”

  Casey squeezed the pack under the door, using a ruler from Maria’s desk to make sure it was all the way under. “There.” She brushed her hands against each other. “Mission accomplished.”

  “Now can we go to bed?”

  “Either that or pack.”

  “We’re leaving?”

  “On a jet plane.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. But that’s how the song goes. I’m leaving—”

  “—on a jet plane. I know, I know. I’m the one who’s good at these things. Not you. That’s why you have to use such an old reference.”

  “Goodnight. Go away. See you tomorrow.”

  Death clapped. “Is that an invitation?”

  “No.” Casey tromped up the service stairs to her room—sans Death, thank goodness—and unlocked the door. She stepped into the entryway, slid her shoes off, and turned to flip on the light.

  “Freeze!” someone yelled.

  Casey did. She held her arms out in front of her, hoping whoever was there would hesitate before shooting her. At least that’s what she assumed they were going to do. Usually the command to freeze was given when the person was holding a gun.

  “Take three steps back.” It was a woman’s voice, shaking and low.

  Casey considered the distance to the still-open door. Could she make it out before bullets ripped into her back? She was at least five feet from the hallway. Plenty of space for someone to shoot her. The woman wouldn’t even have to have good aim, not at that distance. Run, Casey told herself. She turned her head slowly, trying to see what was going on behind her.

  “I said freeze! And take three steps back!”

  Kind of contradictory, but Casey was in no position to argue. She stepped back, hoping the woman’s nervousness wouldn’t cause her to pull the trigger without meaning to.

  Casey tripped, steadying herself on her table. The table’s chair was upended, its leg in Casey’s way, and the entryway rug had been crumpled and tossed to the side. Casey took the last two steps, ending up at the front of the living room, even farther from the door and freedom.