Casey was waiting at the back door of Home Sweet Home when Eric drove up.
He got out of his Camry. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She went to the car. “Got things to carry in?”
“Well, yes, but—”
She waited at the trunk until he opened it, holding out her arms for the bags of just-un-sellable vegetables and food staples. They took in the groceries and put them away, finding what space they could around the pizzas in the fridge.
“What is it?” Eric asked when they were done. “You learned something. I can see it.”
“I think the video might be a dead end.” She explained what Todd had told her.
“But maybe it did have to do with her,” he said. “Todd’s either lying or he doesn’t know.”
“Unless…”
“What?”
“Eric.” She made her voice gentle. “Have you remembered why you were there that day?”
He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. “You really think I did something to Ellen?”
“No, I don’t—”
“Because that’s just…” He flung his hands outward, and stalked away, keeping his back to her.
She followed him. “I don’t think that, Eric. Really. But what if something about your visit was important? You need to remember.”
“I know. I know.” He banged the flat of his hand against the wall, and leaned there, hanging his head.
“Can you at least tell me what Thomas thinks I’m doing here? Why he would threaten me, telling me to leave him alone?”
He turned his head to look at her. “Thomas? He did that?”
“He seems to think I’m a spy.”
He sighed heavily. “Lord knows what Thomas thinks about anything.”
“I think you know, too.”
He pushed himself off the wall, rounding on her. “What do I know?”
Casey readied herself for self-defense, all the while telling herself it was stupid to worry around Eric. “You have something on him, Eric. He knows it. You know it. What is it?” She could still picture that man, Taffy, telling Thomas he was being monitored. Should she mention it to Eric? Or would that just put Eric in danger, too?
“Thomas and I have known each other a long—”
“Stop. Just stop. You’ve given me that spiel before. So you’ve known each other forever. You grew up together. Your dads both moved here to work together. I get that. But what does that mean? You feel some sense of…what? Responsibility for him?”
“No, I don’t, it’s just…”
“What?”
“I think he wants out.”
“Out? Out of what? Theater? This town?”
He glanced at her. “This town, definitely, but that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what? It has something to do with money, doesn’t it? Large amounts of it?” She couldn’t imagine what else Taffy and Bone would want.
Eric let out a long sigh, and leaned back against the wall. “I can’t… It doesn’t have anything to do with Ellen, okay? Trust me on that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. If I thought it did, I would tell you.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
She watched him for a moment. Did he know enough that he could also be a target of those men? Whatever group was threatening Thomas? Would Taffy and Bone come after him?
“Eric, there’s something I think you should know—”
“I know everything I need to about Thomas and his problems.”
“But—”
“No. No more. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He turned abruptly and walked through the door into the dining area.
Casey clenched her jaw. She hated thinking of Eric in any way other than positive, but how long had she actually known him? Three days? Four? And with them knowing nothing about what had really happened to Ellen, how did he really know Thomas’ problem wasn’t relevant?
She started after him, but the back door opened and Loretta entered, kissing her fingers and raising them to heaven. “Thank you, Jesus, for another day serving you. Hallelujah! Hello, baby girl.” This last was to Casey.
“Hello, Loretta.”
“Pizza again tonight, Praise God! ”
“Yes.”
The door smacked open, and Johnny filled the entryway. “Nice lady!”
Casey smiled. “Hello, Johnny.”
He hugged her with abandon, and lumbered off to his station to roll silverware. Casey followed.
“Johnny, Ellen worked here with you, didn’t she?”
He slid the silverware drawer out. “Oh, yes, ma’am, she was a nice lady.”
“I’m sure she was.” She watched as he carefully placed the knife, fork, and spoon on a napkin and rolled it all into a perfect oblong bundle. “Did she ever say anything to you about work?”
“Work?” His face crinkled in concentration. “About silverware?”
“No. No, I mean about HomeMaker.”
“Oh, that work.” He turned backed to his silverware, as if he didn’t care to reply.
“Praise the Lord,” Loretta said, “Ellen was going to make the need for this kitchen go away, thank you Jesus! ”
Casey went closer to her. “Did she tell you how?”
“Didn’t say much, did she now, poor angel of God, but she was confident in His power, yes she was. Praise the Lord! ”
“She thought God was going to save the factory?”
Loretta pursed her lips. “Now don’t be getting that tone, young lady, although God loves you even so.”
“I’m sorry. But I was serious. What made her confident? Trust in God?”
“That’s always there, honey. But she was the one doing God’s work and helping the meek and poor in spirit.”
Casey clenched her fists against her hips. “But how?”
“Oh, well now, baby, I’d tell you if I knew, wouldn’t I? Hallelujah! ”
Casey took a deep breath, reminding herself that taking an elderly woman to the mat was really not appropriate. No matter how heartfelt it would be.
The door slapped open again, and Casey’s stomach dropped. “Leila.”
“Where’s Eric?” The girl’s eyes sparked with anger—and something else—when she saw Casey.
Casey jerked her thumb toward the dining room. “Out there.”
Leila spun on her heel and marched out of the kitchen. Casey followed, stopping in the doorway to make sure Eric wasn’t about to get assaulted. She needn’t have worried. Leila’s only concern seemed to be to find Eric and give him some urgent message. Somehow, Casey had the feeling it was about her.
Casey went back to the kitchen and took a couple heads of lettuce from the fridge, washing them and cutting off the brown spots with a knife. Maybe it was time for her to leave Home Sweet Home, at least, if not Clymer altogether. She wasn’t getting any answers. Eric was angry with her. Leila was telling secrets. Loretta thought she was a heathen. Johnny had even turned his back on her.
She closed her eyes and leaned on the sink, a wave of dizziness sweeping through her.
“Don’t go falling into the sink now,” Death said. “You’ll cut yourself with that knife.”
Casey shook her head, her eyes still closed, and whispered, “No one would care.”
“Sure they would. You’d get blood on the lettuce.”
Casey straightened, giving Death a good glare. “Thanks so much for your concern.”
Death shrugged and peeled a perfect yellow banana.
“What is with you?” Casey said. “First junk food, now the healthy stuff.”
“I get bored. And besides, I’m really enjoying learning about—”
“Gardening. I know.”
“Casey?” Eric came to stand beside Casey and she blinked as he stood in Death’s spot, Death’s form shimmering, but staying in place, outlining Eric’s body. Eric shivered. “Is it cold in here, or is it just me?” He reached over to shut the door.
Leila stood in the entryway to the dining room, her expression triumphant, arms crossed over her chest. Casey went back to chopping lettuce, avoiding the sight of Death/Eric.
“Um, I’m sorry,” Eric said. “I know you’re just trying to help by asking me to think of these things. I’ll go home tonight and look through my calendar. See if I can piece together which visit to my dad that would’ve been.”
Casey nodded. “Good. That would be helpful.”
Leila cleared her throat.
Eric looked back at her, then turned again to Casey, a violent shudder running through his body. He looked at the window, but it was closed. “Why is it so cold in here?”
“Go on back out to the dining room,” Casey said. “We’ve got things under control in here.”
“All right.” He leaned closer. “But that means I’ve got to deal with Leila.”
Casey grinned. “You’re a big boy. You can handle her.”
He glanced over at the girl in the doorway, who now had her fists planted on her hips. “I’m not so sure.”
Casey nudged him out of the way as she leaned over the sink, and he left.
“That wasn’t nice,” she told Death.
Death shrugged. “I was here first.”
Loretta walked past Casey, a stack of pizzas in her arms as she headed for the stove. “Another volunteer for the kitchen, Praise God! Did you bring a friend, Casey?”
Casey shook her head, somehow not surprised that Loretta could see Death. “No. This friend was just leaving.”
Death frowned. “I was?”
“Nice lady’s friend?” Johnny turned from his task in the corner and headed for Death, arms open.
“No! Not you, too!” Casey stepped in front of Death, and Johnny’s face fell. “I mean,” Casey stammered, “my friend has…a cold, Johnny. I don’t want you to get it.”
“Oh. Sorry, nice lady’s friend!”
“Well,” Loretta said, pointing at Death. “If you have a cold, baby, you get out of the kitchen. Praise the Lord we don’t need anyone else getting sick.”
“But I’m not—”
“You heard the woman,” Casey said. “Get out.”
Death frowned. “I’ll be back.”
“Oh,” Casey said, sighing. “I have no doubt about that.”
With a final glare, Death stomped out the back door, leaving it flung open.
Loretta clicked her tongue. “With a temper like that, we don’t need more help, do we, thank the Lord?”
“That’s right,” Casey said.
For some reason cutting up lettuce got a whole lot more enjoyable after that.
The smell of pizza soon filled the kitchen, and Eric and Leila carried it out to the diners—Leila shooting Casey smug, angry looks—along with the salad and some chips. Leila must have felt so strongly about Casey’s presence it was worth it to serve her own family. Casey stayed in the kitchen, helping Loretta and Johnny with dishes and refilling the pizza trays as necessary.
Before long the people were gone and the volunteers were standing around eating the leftovers. Leila didn’t leave Eric’s side, her demeanor daring Casey to make an issue of it. For the second time that night Casey had to remind herself that martial arts had no place in a charity kitchen.
“Well, it’s about that time.” Eric said, glancing at his watch.
“I’ll drive you to rehearsal.” Leila batted her eyes at Eric.
He glanced at Casey. “I’ll just walk. Thanks, though.”
“Oh, then I’ll walk with you,” Leila said. “I can leave my Bug parked in the back, can’t I?”
Eric looked at Casey. “You coming?”
She smiled. “Why don’t you two go ahead. I’ll catch up with you there.”
Leila’s narrowed eyes widened, and she smirked, grabbing Eric’s arm. “Come on, Eric, let’s go.”
With a pleading backward glance, Eric allowed Leila to lead him from the room. Casey listened until she heard the front door open and close.
“You should go, too,” Loretta said. “You’ll be late for rehearsal, Praise God! ”
“I’ll go in a minute. I just didn’t want Leila to kill me before I got there.”
Loretta chuckled. “You just take that friend of yours along, babydoll. Then that girl will behave.”
A good idea, but there was no way Leila would be seeing Death. Casey was quite confident of that.
She picked up a pizza tray to take it to the sink, but Johnny was already coming at her for a hug, and the tray came up, smashing against her chest. He backed up, and they looked down at the mess, splotches of tomato sauce and cheese clinging to Casey’s shirt.
Johnny cried out and grabbed a dishcloth, swiping at the spots, making little sobbing noises.
Casey gently took his wrists, holding them away from her. “It’s okay, Johnny.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He jerked against her hold, wanting to go at the stains with the cloth.
“Really, Johnny.” She tried to make eye contact. “It’s okay. I’ll wash it out.”
“Just don’t you put that blouse in the dryer until those stains are all gone, baby,” Loretta said. “Or they’ll be there until kingdom come, Lord willing.”
Johnny gasped. “Not the dryer!” He jerked his hands upward, flinging the dishrag, narrowly missing Casey’s face.
“I’ll spray the spots really well,” Casey said. “And I’ll double check before throwing the shirt in the dryer. I promise.”
“No!” Johnny said, coming at her again with the dishcloth. “Stay away from the dryer!”
Casey again grabbed his wrists, forcing him to look at her, but his anxiety had climbed way past a simple messy accident. “Johnny. It’s okay. I’m not angry. The clothes will be fine. I promise.”
“No! No!” He jerked and writhed, sudden tears running down his face.
Loretta was there now, laying soothing hands on Johnny’s shoulders, praying for God to come and throw his calming presence over their beloved brother in Christ.
“The dryer!” Johnny screeched. “You have to stay away from the dryer!”
Casey shook her head. “Why, Johnny? Why do I have to stay away from the dryer?”
“Because dryers kill people!” he sobbed. “They kill people!” He wrenched his arms from Casey’s and fell to the floor, grabbing her around her knees. “I don’t want you to die, nice lady! Don’t die!”
“I’m not going to die. I promise.” She stroked his head, smoothing his hair back from his face. “But the dryer, Johnny. Why are you afraid of those?”
“When people use dryers they die,” he said. “Ellen told me so.”