Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

is scary.”

    Casey looked up from the screen. Becca Styles? Could this little town have more than one Becca? Probably not. And with the small population it wasn’t that strange that Becca would be quoted. Especially if she and Ellen were involved in the theater together.
    The article finished with a promise for up-to-date news, and Casey moved on to the next.

    FORMER HOMEMAKER EMPLOYEE
DIES BY OWN HAND
    When HomeMaker CEO Karl Willems performed last December’s lay-off of more than fifty employees, he knew it would be rough. What he didn’t expect was for one of his former workers to commit suicide. “Ellen Schneider was a wonderful woman, and a hard worker,” he said. “I always thought she would be one to land on her feet.”
    Unfortunately, such was not the case. Overwhelmed by her climbing debts, lack of employment, and the pressure of raising two children on her own, Ellen Schneider, a thirty-one-year-old single mother, of Clymer, Ohio, allegedly took her own life two mornings ago while her children attended school. “It’s a sad, sad thing,” Chief Denny Reardon said at this morning’s press conference. “This town has been through some rough months, and this will only make it harder.”
    When asked for details of Ms. Schneider’s death, Chief Reardon said only that she was pronounced dead at the scene, apparently from an overdose of her own prescription sleeping pills. More information, he said, would be coming.

    Casey sat back, swallowing the bad taste in her mouth. With a flick of her finger on the keyboard she wiped the article from the screen, and sat staring at the library’s home page.
    Did she really want to take this poor woman’s spot in the play?
    “Miss, um, Kaufmann?” Casey jerked around to see the librarian at her elbow, her driver’s license in her hand. “I’m sorry, but your time on the computer is up, and we have someone waiting.”
    Casey blinked and glanced around. While she’d been working the library had gotten busy. Well, as busy as it could in such a small town. And there were only three computers for the patrons. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize…”
    “No problem. Feel free to come back later.”
    Casey grabbed her bag, took one last look to make sure she hadn’t left anything on the desk, and accepted her license back from Stacy, glad it still bore her birth name, rather than her married one. Stacy, if he ever got curious, wouldn’t have much to go on. She hadn’t lived in the licensing state for years, and her social security number was not on it. She nodded at the man waiting for the computer and pushed out the library doors into the bright mid-morning. She glanced at her watch. Almost nine-thirty. Too early to find the bed and breakfast. If she decided to stay.
    A mother with a toddler in a stroller went past on the sidewalk, heading across the street to a small park. Casey watched them, an ache spreading through her chest. Benches and a few picnic tables sat under two big trees, and Casey made her way over, settling at the picnic table farthest from the play equipment. Digging through her bag, she pulled out a cell phone, one that was paid ahead, with a number that would die a quick death when she’d used all the minutes and bought a new phone.
    She punched in a number she knew by heart.
    “Hello, Wilson’s Catering, may I help you?” The voice, as always, made her smile, but also brought tears to her eyes.
    “Ricky.”
    He paused. “Casey? Where are you?”
    She gave a half laugh. “How are things?”
    “Oh, you know, the usual. Paying your bills, gathering your mail, having a builder repair your roof.”
    “What? What happened?”
    “Storm. That big maple in the front yard dropped a load on your porch.”
    “Oh, no. The tree?”
    “Gone. I’m sorry, sis.”
    Casey pushed on her lips with her fingers until she evened out her breathing. “The house?”
    “Taken care of. Had a few prospective buyers go through, but no offers. The realtor’s still hopeful, but I don’t know…”
    “You’re not really trying, are you?”
    “Now, come on—”
    “Ricky.”
    “All right. I’m not pushing it. But I have it listed with an agency, okay? I just…” He hesitated. “You’ll be back sometime, and wish you hadn’t sold it. You know you will.”
    “I don’t know that. In fact, I’m sure I won’t.”
    “But Casey—”
    “Enough. Tell me other stuff. How’s Mom?”
    “As well as can be expected.”
    “Ricky—”
    “She