Flowers for Her Grave

Chapter Thirty-one

Neither one of them said a word all the way to the Flamingo. Dylan’s hands again gripped the steering wheel like it was going to fly off, if he let it. Casey felt drained, and sank way low in her seat, watching dully as the streetlights drifted past.

It all was too sad. Finally, a couple who really did love each other. They wanted to do the right thing by Maria. Then they wanted to get married. No wonder Andrea’s apartment looked like a stop on the way to somewhere else. She was just waiting for Maria’s papers to go through, and she and Richie could go somewhere else. Somewhere he wasn’t in danger of being taken to court if Sissy saw him.

It made her so, so tired. And felt so, so wrong.

“We’re here,” Dylan said, bringing the car to a stop.

Casey undid her seatbelt.

“So that cop,” Dylan said, his hands squeaking as he squeezed the steering wheel. “He likes you.”

Casey gave a little laugh. “Just because he was concerned for my welfare doesn’t mean he likes me. And what are we? Fourth graders?”

Casey got out of the car and stretched, putting her hands on her waist and letting her head drop forward.

“So that wasn’t pretty.” Death stood beside Casey, leaning against Del’s motorcycle in the next spot. For once Death wore the traditional outfit—a long, black robe with an over-sized hood. The head of a scythe peeked over Death’s right shoulder, strapped on with a black leather belt.

Casey was shaken, and whispered, “Where have you been? It wasn’t Richie was it?”

“Nope. Haiti. They’ve had such terrible luck lately. Earthquakes. Cholera. Hurricanes. Today it was the ground shifting under a road and causing a bridge to buckle. Dozens of people, smashed like very fragile bugs.”

Casey shuddered, and Dylan put his arm around her shoulder. “Want to go in?”

“Actually, I think I’ll walk on the beach for a bit.”

“By yourself?”

“Doesn’t matter. You can come, if you want. You probably need to clear your head, too.”

She allowed Dylan to take her hand, and they walked around the Flamingo toward the beach. The sound of the ocean was drowned out by the music around the pool, and conversation and laughter floated across the air. When they drew even with the pool, Dylan hesitated.

Casey stopped, looking at the lights and people with smiling faces. “You want to stay here?”

Dylan shrugged, obviously embarrassed. “It’s just so…opposite of what we’ve been thinking about. Of this whole week, with Andrea getting killed, and now Brandon.”

“Sure.” Casey let go of his hand. “Go on. In fact, I see someone you might want to get to know. See that woman sitting off by herself? She’s new. Just signed a lease today.”

Dylan saw her. “You don’t mind?”

“No.” She really didn’t.

“Okay. I’ll be around, though, all right? Come find me later.”

“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. “A*shole. 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.

“Now, turn around, nice and slow, hands up.”

Casey turned, and as she did, she saw that her apartment had been torn apart, reminiscent of Maria’s house, only far worse. The furniture was overturned, the curtains ripped off their hangers, and silverware and broken plates littered the little she could see of the kitchen. Casey’s eyes flicked to her hidey-hole vent. The cover still lay unmolested against the wall.

Her eyes finally landed on Sissy, who stood in the middle of the living room, pointing a gun at Casey.

Sissy? But she was with Marcus, being charmed by his love and enthusiasm.

Wasn’t she?

Casey held her hands out in front of her. “It’s okay, Sissy. It’s all right.”

“No, Daisy. It’s not.” Her hand shook.

“Sissy. Let’s talk a little bit.”

“I’m done talking! Move over here!” She jerked the gun toward the overturned couch, and Casey picked her way slowly across the floor, over and around chairs and kitchen utensils. She should run. Take off. Like she’d told her class. But she couldn’t, not with Sissy holding a gun four feet from her face. And not with Casey’s things—her ID, Omar’s hat, her other treasures—held hostage. Not with the high likelihood that Sissy would bring attention here to this place, and Casey’s true identity would be discovered. And not when Casey could bring down this woman with a few well-aimed strikes.

“What do you want?” Sissy screeched.

Casey was confused. “Nothing. I don’t want anything.”

Sissy’s face darkened. “Oh, sure. That’s what your little stunt with the folders tells me. Oh, yes, the women called me. I suppose my folder is tucked under my apartment door, too?”

“Actually, I put it in your office.”

“Of course. The women said you’d been around. They all sounded so happy that you were there, handing the information back, saying we’re all free. Photos. Newspaper articles. Bank accounts. Until tomorrow. Who are you going to tell then, Daisy? How soon will you be making your demands? Why can’t you people just leave us alone? First…” She swallowed loudly. “First Brandon. Now you. Can’t a woman just start over? Do it right the second time?”

“Sissy, I gave the folders back so you could destroy them. I’m not going to use them against you.”

Sissy’s face crumpled, her gun hand dropping slowly toward the floor. Casey made sure she had her balance and took a step closer, getting in range to grab Sissy’s arm. Sissy swung her hand up, the gun barely missing Casey face. Casey stumbled backward, tripped over a pillow, and fell.

“You’re just like him, aren’t you? You could let it go, allow me to move on, but you won’t. You want to drain me dry. Why? Why can’t you just let me be?”

Casey scooted back, crab-like, until she was at her balcony door. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea to stay instead of bolting out the door. She was tired. Tired of thinking, and tired of tragedy. And now she was tired and trapped. If she could just get the sliding door open, she could roll out. She’d seen that first day how she could swing to a neighboring balcony, and escape. There was no way Sissy could follow, in her state, and it would be much harder to shoot a target swinging from one balcony to another. Casey reached up toward the handle of the door, remembering too late the dowel rod in the sliding track which would keep the door from opening.

“Don’t move!” Sissy screamed. “Please…please don’t move.” She sobbed and lurched forward, the gun just out of Casey’s reach. “Where are your copies? I couldn’t find them when Brandon lived here, either—where do you people hide your dirty, awful papers?”

“Sissy, I swear, I’m not blackmailing you. I don’t have my own copy. I gave you the only one.”

“But I thought I’d already destroyed the only one. And then you come at me with another.” She shuddered. “I’m sure she knew where it was. But she wouldn’t tell me, either.” Her eyes were wild. “So I made sure she couldn’t tell anyone anymore. She couldn’t be in it with him. Not for one more day.”

Casey’s breath hitched. “Who are you talking about, Sissy?”

“Andrea, of course, the little slut. Taking my man. Taking Brandon. My sweet Brandon.”

“But Brandon was blackmailing you.”

“No, not once he got to know me. He gave me what he had on me. Told me to burn it. And I did. She must have had another copy. But now it’s too late to know. I should have waited.”

“Sissy. What did you do to Andrea? Did you…are you the one who killed her?”

Of course Maria hadn’t done it. That solution had felt wrong all along. Richie and Andrea had promised to help her. And Maria had gotten Richie and Andrea together in the first place. Richie loved Andrea. It wasn’t a love triangle. It was a triangle of friends.

Maria hadn’t killed Andrea.

The cops were chasing after an innocent woman.

A tear rolled down Sissy’s cheek. “Andrea took my man.”

Sissy’s gun hand again sank toward the floor as she cried. Casey slowly tipped up onto her feet, into a squat position. “Sissy, you did all that planning to get Andrea? The security cameras, and Maria’s key?”

The gun rose again. “That was all easy. Maria keeps an extra key in her desk, and our security isn’t exactly high tech. I just wanted to talk to Andrea. To tell her Brandon was mine. That he wasn’t going to blackmail me anymore, so she should forget him.”

Casey balanced on the balls of her feet, ready to spring up at the first opportunity. “So you lured Krystal away from the aerobics room. You sent her a fake note from the guard.”

“I knew she couldn’t ignore an opportunity to screw somebody, especially that hot little number.” Sissy’s eyes went unfocused, as if she were thinking of Krystal, and what she and the guard might have gotten up to. Her hand dropped a fraction, and Casey lunged forward. She grabbed Sissy’s wrist, lowered her head, and rammed Sissy in the gut with her shoulder, sending her back several steps, like she was sacking a quarterback.

Sissy screamed, clawing Casey in the back of the neck. Casey reared up and headbutted Sissy in the chin. Blood spurted from Sissy’s lip, spraying into Casey’s eyes. Casey jerked her head away, and Sissy twisted the gun toward Casey. Casey tried to gain some traction, but slid on a sofa cushion and fell backward. Sissy threw herself on top of her, howling. Casey raised her foot just in time to catch Sissy’s ribs on her way down, and Sissy jerked hard sending the gun clattering to the floor. Sissy lunged for the gun while Casey reached down and yanked out the dowel rod that braced the balcony door. Sissy swung the gun toward her, and Casey smacked her with the rod, hitting her wrist and sending the gun flying backward, into the entryway.

Sissy scrambled toward the gun, beating Casey there, and raised it, aiming at Casey’s heart. Casey froze.

“I didn’t mean to kill her,” Sissy sobbed. “I didn’t want to kill her. I just…” She wiped her nose with her sleeve. “I just wanted to scare her. To get her to leave him alone! Leave my Brandon alone!”

Casey eyed Sissy and the gun. There was no way she could reach Sissy before she got a shot off. No way Casey could reach down and pick up anything to throw, or dodge behind something that could protect her. Nothing there would stop a bullet. There was a good chance Sissy would miss, if she did shoot, but then the bullet might go right out the window, hitting someone down at the pool.

Casey decided to just stay still and talk, hoping she could find an opening to strike. “So what made you go after Andrea that night?”

Sissy blinked away tears. Casey couldn’t help but think Sissy’s bright blue outfit had the opposite of its usual effect. Instead of making Sissy look like a fresh, vibrant blueberry, she looked old and pale. Tired. Washed out.

“That day,” Sissy said. “Before class. They were talking about who had spent time in this apartment. I wasn’t surprised about Laurie, of course, I knew she was in love with Brandon. I wasn’t surprised about Krystal, either. She screws anything that moves. But Andrea? Why was Krystal trying to cover up the fact that Andrea knew this apartment? It could only be…it could only be because Andrea was in love with Brandon, too.” She sobbed. “And then to find out later that she was engaged to him!”

Her gun hand shook so much Casey was ready to hit the ground. If only she could get a step closer she could disarm her.

“I just wanted to talk to her,” Sissy said. “I was sure if I told her he and I were in love she would back off. She was always so nice. But she kept lying. Saying she wasn’t involved with him. Saying she didn’t even like him. That she hadn’t seen or heard anything from him since he’d left. Why did she lie to me? Why?”

“Sissy, about that engagement—”

“She wouldn’t listen to me. She turned her back on me, saying I needed to get a hold of myself, and she would talk to me when I was calmer. The nerve! I left her and sat in the office—your office, I mean. I tried to calm down, but I just got madder and madder.”

She looked mad now, and not just in the angry sense. Casey was ready to move closer when Sissy blinked and focused on her again. “So I grabbed one of those weights by the desk, and went back. She was in the shower area then. Her back was still turned. I was going to talk some more, but I was so angry. So I hit her. I hit her, and hit her, and hit her.” She chopped with the gun, as if she were demonstrating. “Until she was just lying there. Staring up at me. Just staring.”

Her eyes flicked up to Casey’s, and she steadied the gun. “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t. All I wanted was for Brandon to love me and not her. And I realized then that he would. She wouldn’t be in the way anymore. So I told him…he couldn’t have her. She was dead. He had to come back to me.”

Casey’s breath hitched. “You told Brandon Andrea was dead?”

“He needed to know so he could move on. Back to me.”

“You knew where Brandon was?”

“Of course I knew,” Sissy said. “I put him there.”

It suddenly all made sense. Dylan’s theory about a Sugar Mama. It was true. And the Mama was Sissy.

“Sissy. When did you tell him this?”

Her lips trembled. “Yesterday.”

Oh, God. Yesterday. The day he died. “You told him you killed her?”

“Of course not. Just that she was dead.”

“And what did he say?”

“He said he wasn’t engaged to her. He wouldn’t tell me the truth, either. Even then, even after she was dead. All that time I’d been worried about him wanting Krystal, and I had no idea it was Andrea. The one woman here I liked. And neither of them would tell me the truth.”

“Sissy, they weren’t—”

“I was there, at his apartment, cooking him supper. Cooking for him. And he told me he would be staying only long enough to get his things together, his papers, his money, and then he would be gone.”

“Without you.”

“Of course without me!” Her eyes shone. “I was making dinner for him, in the apartment I was paying for, and he told me I was nothing to him. Nothing.” Her grip tightened on the gun, her knuckles white. “He came into the kitchen, and I …” She gasped, tears choking her.

“You stabbed him, didn’t you?”

“Just once, at first, just a little. And then again. And again. He was so surprised. Blood went everywhere. All over the counter, and the food, and my…my clothes. He begged me to help him. To save him. But it was too late. Too late.” She took a shuddering breath.

“I’m sorry, Sissy. I’m so sorry. Can you put the gun down now?”

She swept it up, pointing it straight at Casey again. “And now you know. But you knew already, didn’t you? That’s why you want to continue his work. Blackmail me some more. Because that’s what people like you do.”

“Sissy, I do not want to blackmail you. I was bringing you the folder so you could get rid of it.”

She was crying in earnest now. Tears streamed down her face. “It doesn’t matter. Not anymore. Brandon doesn’t love me. He never loved me. He loves her. He loves her.” She dissolved into sobs, keeping the gun trained on Casey.

“Sissy. Sissy, listen. Listen!”

Sissy hiccupped, the gun wavering dangerously.

Casey put her hands out, as if that could protect her if the gun went off. “Sissy, they were telling you the truth.”

Her forehead wrinkled. “About what?”

“About not being engaged.”

Her grip tightened on the gun. “But I heard her parents say it. They said she was engaged. That two weeks ago something happened and she stopped speaking about him. Two weeks ago Brandon left.”

“Yes, I know. But Andrea wasn’t engaged to him. She was engaged to Richie.”

Sissy’s face went blank, and then paled so quickly she looked like she was going to faint. “Richie? The little…but I told him he couldn’t come anywhere near here, or I would sue him for everything. He was so…”

“He was a scapegoat. When people got injured you had to have someone to blame, didn’t you, Sissy? He may have been unqualified, but he wasn’t malicious. He only wanted to do good.”

“But I’d hired him. If people looked too closely…Andrea was engaged to him? Not my Brandon?”

Still on about her Brandon. Even after she’d killed him.

“But that means Brandon was telling me the truth. He wasn’t going to marry her. He must have loved me! He loves me, after all!” Her face lit up, and she looked over Casey’s shoulder, out toward the ocean, and the pool.

Casey leapt forward, her hand swinging up to push Sissy’s gun hand away, but Sissy saw her, and her finger was tightening on the trigger, and—

“Hi-yah!” A flattened hand arced through the air, chopping Sissy at the base of her neck. Sissy gave a startled grunt, and collapsed, dropping the gun. Tamille stood in the entryway, hands on her hips, like a superhero. All that was missing was the cape.

Several moments passed before Casey was able to speak. “Tamille?”

Tamille showed all of those shiny white teeth and nudged the unconscious Sissy with her toe. “Good thing I decided to ignore your plea for solitude, isn’t it?”

Casey slumped onto the bottom of the overturned easy chair. “Company does have its good points.”

Tamille looked at the woman lying at her feet. “Want to explain?”

“Huh-uh.”

“Didn’t think so. But I do suppose this is something for the cops?”

“Most definitely.”

Tamille smiled again and pulled out her phone. “So how about I go ahead and call them?”

“You do that. But do you mind calling from the hallway? I have something I need to take care of.”

Tamille looked around at the destroyed furniture and shrugged. “Whatever. Just don’t do anything more to Sissy. She should be out until long after the police get here.”

“I won’t hurt her. I promise.”

Tamille went out into the hallway, but didn’t close the door. Casey hoped she wouldn’t see what she was about to do.

“What is going on here?” Death suddenly stood just inside the balcony door. “Did I miss all the excitement again? And what is Sissy doing here?”

“Long story short—she killed Andrea and Brandon.”

Death about choked. “Seriously?”

Casey took off the air conditioning vent cover and pulled out Maria’s folder, the only one that was left.

“You’re getting those ready to give to the cops now?”

Casey held up the file. “You know how we all figured Maria was the killer, and sent the cops off chasing her?”

“Yeah.”

“Like I just told you—she didn’t do it.”

“Right. So?”

“Think about it. She’s out there, on the run from the cops—or the INS, anyway—trying to keep her kids safe, as well as this man who just lost his fiancée and thinks he will get taken to court if he shows up anywhere near here. He can’t even mourn her properly.”

“What does that have to do with her papers?”

Casey shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you? What’s the difference between her and me?”

“You’re actually a citizen? She’s got two kids? She has a friend? She’s not intimately acquainted with moi?”

“Okay. So there are differences. But we’re both…” She worked to form the word. “Fugitives. We’re wanted by the law. We have no place to call home. No…no stability.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to give her a head start.”

Casey pulled everything out of the folder, from the expired green card to the failed citizenship applications to the attempts to bring over Maria’s family, ripped the papers into tiny little pieces, and flushed them down the toilet.