Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

side of the road and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to check the time. Just after three. Change of shift. She returned the phone to her pocket and resumed riding toward the factory, scanning the faces of the people as they passed. No one she knew, of course.
    As she got closer the factory loomed large and white. Not depressing, actually, as she’d expected. The HomeMaker sign on the side of the building—blue and red—shone brightly. No letters with burned-out bulbs. No weeds growing up through cracks in the pavement. She circled the building, skirting the edge of the massive parking lot, avoiding the main flow of the exiting traffic. Well-maintained grass surrounded the building, mature trees lined the borders, and a manmade pond, complete with fountain, graced the open space toward the highway.
    The traffic dwindled. Those taking over this shift had already begun work, and most of those leaving were on their way home. Casey braked to a stop close to the front door, studying the cars in the parking lot. American cars, mostly, with a few Hondas and Toyotas thrown in. None of the Pegasus hybrids. Only a few parking spaces held vehicles in the upper echelon of the car world, and those were the ones up front in the reserved spots. The ones designated for Karl Willems—his Cadillac STS—, the Senior VP—a shiny Indian motorcycle—, and the Executive Assistant. That space held a new-looking Acura Integra. Not hugely expensive, but more than the assembly line workers could afford.
    The front doors whooshed open and Eric VanDiepenbos exited, his eyes on the sidewalk as he strode toward her.
    “Eric?”
    He jerked to a halt, his tight expression easing as he recognized her. “Casey? What are you doing here?”
    She gestured to the bike. “Trying out my new wheels.”
    He checked out her ride. “Nice. Where’d you get it?”
    “The place I’m staying.” She got off the bike and pushed down the kickstand. “I have to tell you your hotel recommendations are now suspect.”
    He wrinkled his nose. “Pretty gross, huh? But that bike doesn’t belong to The Sleep Inn.”
    “No. I found a nice B & B.”
    A smile flickered on his face. “The Nesting Place?”
    “That’s the one.”
    “You’ll like it there. I didn’t recommend it last night because it was so late and because…well, you said you wanted something cheap. Are the ladies cutting you a break since you’ll be there for a while? At least I hope you will, since the play won’t be done for over a month.”
    Casey bit her lip. “Actually, we haven’t gotten around to talking about the price. With me getting there in the morning, and them being busy…”
    Eric laughed. “Sounds like them. But you might want to find out the price before you get too settled.” He held up a hand. “Not that they’ll cheat you or anything. It’s just…” He swept a hand at her.
    “I know. I don’t exactly look like a high roller, do I? But their place is so nice. Clean, even.”
    He grinned. “It would be.” He studied her some more. “I’m sorry. You just don’t look like a bed and breakfast kind of person.”
    She winced. “You know you can’t judge a book by its—”
    “I know. I’m sorry. I’m being incredibly nosy and rude.”
    She smiled. “That’s okay. I won’t take it personally.”
    “So, in the vein of nosiness…why are you here? At HomeMaker?”
    “Just curious. I’ve heard so much about it since I got here yesterday. I wanted to check out the big, bad wolf.”
    His face clouded. “I guess it’s hard to be in Clymer and not hear about it.”
    “It’s like any big business. They sort of…take over.”
    “You sound like you’ve had experience.”
    “Some.”
    They stood quietly, watching as mist blew across the pond from the fountain.
    “I hear a happy birthday is in order,” Casey said.
    He kept his eyes on the fountain. “Not sure how happy it was.”
    “No. I guess not. But Loretta and Johnny felt good about getting you a cake.”
    “Yeah, they would.” He turned to look at her. “I’m headed over there to get ready for dinner. You coming?”
    “Is it time already?”
    “Not quite, I guess. But sometimes Loretta and Johnny get there early. I want to make certain they aren’t burning the place down.”
    “Sure, I’m coming.” She walked back to her bike, disengaging the kickstand.
    “You want to put that in my car?” Eric said. “I’m pretty sure it would fit in the trunk.”
    “No. I mean,