Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

couldn’t possibly have been talking about HomeMaker, and that we should let her—and the factory—rest in peace.”
    Lillian yanked her hand from Rosemary’s, made as if to stand, but sank back into her chair. “That man …”
    Casey chose her words carefully. “We searched Ellen’s desk and Eric’s computer for any clue to what she’d been talking about, but there was nothing.” She looked at Rosemary. “What did she tell you?”
    Rosemary shook her head, her mouth a straight, tight line. “Nothing more than what you know.”
    “It’s important, Rosemary.”
    “Don’t you think I know that?” The words came out harsh and sharp, and Rosemary closed her eyes, visibly getting herself under control. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean—”
    “It’s fine. Really. I understand. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need to.” She took a breath, looking out over the porch railing, then back at Rosemary. “I need to look in Ellen’s house.”
    Rosemary met her eyes. “You think she hid something there.”
    “It’s possible. It’s also possible that if someone did…kill her…that they found it and took it with them. But there was no sign of anyone ransacking the place, was there?”
    “If there had been,” Rosemary said, “it wouldn’t have looked like a suicide. And they needed it to.”
    The horror of those words hung in the air.
    “There was nothing to make anyone think otherwise,” Rosemary said. “One coffee mug on the table. Her own prescription from Wayne’s Pharmacy, just the fingerprints that would be expected…”
    Casey spoke gently. “Do you have a key to her house?”
    Rosemary looked at Lillian, who had checked herself out of the conversation. “We do.”
    “And may I use it?”
    “It will help Ellen? Her children?”
    “I think so.” Casey sat up straighter. “And possibly the whole town.”
    Rosemary thought for only a few moments. “Of course you may use it. Do you want it now?”
    “No. A light in her house would only cause people—” like Chief Reardon “—to come see what was going on. I’ll have to wait until morning.” And hope their visit to Willems didn’t spur any other late-night visitors to Ellen’s house. But then, if they’d already cleared out what they wanted, they wouldn’t be back. On the other hand—
    “Actually, maybe I will take it now.”
    Rosemary studied her face briefly before rising from her seat. “I’ll go get it.”
    Casey looked down at her clothes. Jeans. Dark blue shirt. About as inconspicuous as anything she had. They would have to do.
    Rosemary returned, and Casey held out her hand.
    “I’ll drive you,” Rosemary said.
    “No. I mean, thank you, but it would be better if I walked. And went alone.”
    “But—”
    “Please.”
    Rosemary didn’t like it, Casey could see, but eventually held out the key ring, a miniature Shamu, from when Seaworld still had a home in Cleveland. Casey took the key, but Rosemary didn’t let go of the charm. “You’ll be careful?”
    “I’ll be fine. There’s no alarm, is there?”
    “Who can afford one of those in this town? Besides, we don’t need them.” The irony of her statement hung in the air between them.
    “Okay.” Casey looked at Lillian, who still wouldn’t join the conversation. “And Rosemary?”
    “Yes, darling.”
    “Don’t tell Eric. The last thing he needs is to be in Ellen’s house, doing this.”
    Rosemary’s face tightened, but she nodded.
    Casey shoved the key into her pocket and stood on the top step. “So. I guess it would be good if I knew where exactly Ellen lived.”

Chapter Twenty-nine
    Ellen’s house stood dark and silent. Casey waited in the backyard, in the shadow of the garage, by the alley that ran behind the row of homes. Casey had biked past this house before being confronted by Chief Reardon that morning. She had had no idea that the house belonged to Ellen—hadn’t even taken any special notice of it—and wondered if that was why the chief had been suspicious. But even if that were the case, he must have been keeping tabs on her to even notice where she was riding.
    The houses on either side of Ellen’s were mostly dark, as well. The one to the right had a light on in an upstairs room on the far side of the house, but the downstairs looked quiet. From the other, on the opposite side, came the bluish flickering of television from the side window. Casey hoped the occupants would be glued to whatever inane program