Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery

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.”

She unlocked her room, fumbling with the key and almost dropping it.

“Casey, please—”

“Goodnight, Eric.”

She finally got the door unlocked and practically fell into the room, bolting the door behind her and leaning against it, pressing her hand against her mouth so she wouldn’t scream.

“You really are a mess, aren’t you?” Death turned on an old reel-to-reel projector. “Look. I got that whole scene on tape. You can analyze it and see where you went wrong.”

Casey stared at the images on the wall, of her and Eric, standing so close together just moments before. She strode forward and thrust her hand through the projector, causing it and the image on the wall to waver.

“Can’t you ever leave me be? Can’t I ever have a moment to deal with my emotions on my own?”

Death looked at her, not without kindness. “Apparently not, my love.”

Casey ran into the bathroom, where she locked herself in until she woke up on the floor several hours later, cold, and with a crick in her neck.





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