chapter Twenty-four
“So who murdered Elizabeth’s dad?”
“Lots of theories,” Eric said. “No certain answers.”
“What do we know?”
“It was bad. An execution, really. Shot in the head. Left to die.”
“What do the cops think?”
“This woman didn’t get into it all, but basically it sounds like his murder has never been solved, and the police have stopped trying to solve it.”
“Do you think the cops had something to do with Elizabeth disappearing? I mean, do they think she killed him?”
Eric shrugged. “You heard my side of the phone call. We didn’t talk that long.”
“So let’s see what we can find out.”
They went back inside to use Eric’s iPad. Death sat at the table in Eric’s chair, looking over the scribbled notes from the morning.
“The murder was so long ago,” Casey said, “I wonder how much will even be recorded.”
Death looked up. “How long ago? And who are we talking about?”
“About seventeen years, right, Eric? What was his name? Cyrus Mann?”
Eric looked at her curiously, and sat down in his chair, right on Death’s lap. Death squeezed out from beneath him, and Eric shuddered. “Does your heat work? Can we turn it on? And yes, his name was Cyrus. I told you all this.”
“I wanted to be sure.”
Death was visibly trying to call up the information, finger tapping on chin, eyes unfocused. “Ah, yes. Cyrus Mann. I remember. Not much to go on. You know with these violent, spur-of-the-moment deaths I’m not always there in time to see the cause. Or the perpetrators, anyway.”
“Any witnesses?” Casey asked.
“Haven’t found anything yet,” Eric said. “Give me a minute. It’s not coming up under just her name…”
“Only one other person there,” Death said. “A girl. Fourteen years old. She was holding him when he died.”
“Didn’t he die immediately?”
Eric glanced up. “Why are you asking me these weird questions I don’t have answers to? Oh, here we go. I had to put in everything I knew in order to find it. ‘Man found dead. Daughter missing.’”
“It’s not like the movies,” Death said. “People don’t die instantly, even when they’re shot in the head. Well, if their head is completely blown off I guess they do, but this guy hung on a few minutes. By the time I got there, the girl was the only one—Wait. Are you telling me that girl was Alicia McManus?”
“Elizabeth Mann.”
“Right.” Eric sat up. “‘Cyrus Mann, forty-two, died of head wounds on March 11, 1995. No witnesses, no evidence suggesting who might have done it. His daughter, Elizabeth, fourteen years old, went missing that same night. No clue as to where she went.” He tapped on a later article. “Looks like they did consider her for the murder for a while, but eventually gave up. There were a few other leads, but none of them panned out.”
“What kind of leads? And where was her mother?”
“Didn’t see a mother,” Death said.
Eric flipped through a few screens. “Nothing about a mother. Just stuff about—” His eyebrows rose.
“What?”
“They lived in a car.”
“What?”
“Elizabeth and her dad were homeless. They slept and kept their stuff in a 1973 Chevy station wagon. Says here that first he sold off a woodworking business that he owned, then was hired by a houseboat manufacturer. That job didn’t last very long, and he lost his house in December. Oh, here it says the mother died. Cancer. So she was out of the picture. The townspeople knew him and his daughter, let them keep the car in the local park. The cops left them alone.”
“So generous of them. I don’t suppose any of them had spare rooms Elizabeth and her dad could actually stay in?”
“Oh, you mean like in this house?” Death said. “It’s only been sitting empty for two years.”
“Does it say—what did Elizabeth do before this all happened and she disappeared?”
“Went to school, I guess. Says here she was enrolled at Marshland High School. Hardly ever missed a day until her dad died and she disappeared. After a while people just assumed she was dead, too.” He sat back. “Here’s a photo. That look like our girl?”
Casey studied it. “Hard to tell. She’s so young here.” With innocence in her eyes, instead of haunted sorrow. “I guess it could be.”
“The lady I talked to today was surprised to get my message. She’d assumed that whole thing was over and done with, and her cousin’s disappearance was one of those events that would always be a mystery.”
“Does she think Elizabeth killed her dad?”
“Not from what she said. She’d always thought Elizabeth was a victim, too.” Eric set down the iPad. “You do realize who would be good help with this.”
“The cops. I know. But how do I tell them?”
“You need more, unless you do it anonymously,” Death said. “Attach all these articles to a throw-away email address and send it in.”
Eric put a hand on Casey’s arm, and she jerked, but didn’t pull away. “Maybe it’s time you tell me how you know her name.”
Casey looked at the tabletop. “I’ll tell Detective Watts I found out from Ricky.”
“But then Ricky would get in trouble for not telling them first.”
“How else could I know?”
“You found something in her apartment? At work? Maybe in another hidden place?”
“But I’d have to show them what it was. And I don’t have anything.”
Eric was quiet. “You’re not ready to tell me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You know where you might be able to find more,” Death said.
Casey shook her head, too exhausted to consider it.
Death pushed the button on a small digital projector, and a map of the United States covered the far wall. Texas was highlighted.
“I know,” Casey said. “I know. We have to go.”
“Go where?” Eric said.
Casey sighed. “Where do you think? Marshland, Texas.”
“Without telling the cops?”
“Why would we tell them? They don’t know anything about this.”
“Because…I don’t know. It just seems wrong to sneak away.”
“We’re not sneaking. We’re traveling.”
“And Ricky?”
“I’ll tell Don. He can let Ricky know if he needs to.”
“Are we driving?”
“You and I may not have a lot of things, but there’s one thing we seem to have plenty of.”
“What’s that?”
“Money. We might as well use some of it. It’s not doing anyone any good sitting in the bank.”
Death made a noise. “Just like this house, sitting here empty.”
“So can you buy plane tickets on that thing?” She gestured to the iPad.
Eric nodded. “Sure.”
Death grinned and held up a Nook. “Quicker than you can say the porch light’s on, but nobody’s home.”
Casey left them to it and went upstairs to pack.