Grim Reaper 01 - Embrace the Grim Reaper

store, but they were alone. “Ellen, right?”
    Becca made a face. “I don’t know what it was about her. Eric, and Todd, too. At least Eric was free to do something about it.”
    “I heard Todd was working at Home Sweet Home.”
    Becca snorted. “If you want to call it working. From what I’ve heard he didn’t do a whole lot except get in Ellen’s way.”
    “So it’s no wonder Kristi was unhappy. What about his wife?”
    Becca shrugged. “Todd’s wife is…spacey, shall we say? I don’t think it would even occur to her to think about Todd being interested in someone else. It wouldn’t have occurred to most of us. He’s too lazy.” She gave a half smile.
    “But Kristi?”
    “She’s smart. And she could see exactly what was going on. In fact, she was the one who finally put a stop to the whole thing—whatever there was.”
    “And that’s why he stopped helping at the soup kitchen?”
    The door tinged, and Becca turned to welcome the customer, no one Casey recognized. She turned back to Casey. “From what I hear, Kristi gave him the whole get-it-together-or-I’m-telling-Mom speech. He quit that day. I don’t think he quite understood what he was getting himself into.”
    Casey shook her head. “He can’t be dumb, if he’s a banker.”
    “He’s not dumb. People just sometimes do dumb things .”
    Casey shoved her hands in her pockets. Reuben hadn’t been dumb. In fact, he’d been one of the smartest men—the smartest people —she’d ever known. But everyone had secrets, and Reuben’s just happened to be bigger than most. An entire family, their lives sealed in a five-gallon bucket, kept from her because they wouldn’t accept his choice for his wife. She was an American. A white American. Who was far from Catholic.
    They’d never met her. Hadn’t attended their wedding.
    Had never met their grandson.
    “So you still want directions?”
    Casey snapped back to the present, to Becca’s question. “Yes. Please.”
    With Becca’s easy-to-follow instructions, Casey left the store and turned toward the gas station, her first landmark.
    Reuben’s family hadn’t come to the funeral. Casey wondered how long it had been before they even knew he was dead, along with his son. The items in his bucket were proof he’d been in touch with them. Had sent them pictures of Omar. Their letters had reflected their response. Their unwillingness to accept the gift of life from someone like Casey.
    She passed the gas station, quiet now, only the front office open, the owner visible through the window. He looked up as she went past, sketching a wave. She raised her hand, then turned the corner, the opposite direction. A few more turns and she stood looking at a large two-story house, attractive, a two-car garage, one side open with a Suburban taking up the space.
    No one was outside, so Casey went to the front door and rang the bell. When no one answered, she went back down the steps to the side entrance, beside the garage. She knocked.
    Footsteps sounded inside, and Todd opened the door. He wore old jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, and was decorated with dust and a spiderweb, which draped over his left shoulder. “Casey?”
    “Hi. I was wondering…” What? If he would tell her about HomeMaker’s finances? Why exactly he was furious with Karl Willems? If he’d killed Ellen Schneider because she didn’t love him? “Could we talk for a few minutes?”
    He glanced behind him, down what appeared to be the basement steps. “I’ll be back in a minute, hon.”
    An affirmative response floated up the stairs, and he gestured for Casey to follow him to the kitchen, where he filled a glass with water. “Want some?”
    “No. Thanks. Can we go outside?”
    He studied her, then gestured to the door. He followed her out, looking around for a place to go, and decided on the bumper of the Suburban. They leaned against the SUV.
    “So you didn’t get out of basement cleaning, after all?” Casey said.
    He grunted. “No such luck.”
    “Yeah, well, you’ll get good behavior points for it.”
    He laughed, but stopped abruptly. “What do you mean by that ?”
    “Nothing. Just, I’m sure your wife is glad to have your help.”
    He narrowed his eyes at her, and drained his glass. “What is it you wanted to talk about, Casey?”
    She stood and faced him. “You don’t get along with Karl Willems.”
    He raised his eyebrows. “And that’s news?”
    “I guess not. Most people don’t get along with