Eric slid the DVD into its sleeve. “So it’s true. Ellen was right. Where do we go to find out more? HomeMaker?”
Casey shook her head. “There’s surveillance there. We’d be seen for sure.” She sighed. “Who would be the best person to talk to?” She held a hand up. “Other than Karl.”
“That’s easy. Yvonne.” Eric chewed his lip.
Casey watched his face go through several emotions. “What?”
“Talking to Yvonne is probably not the smartest thing.”
“Why not?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“What, Eric?”
“Yvonne is…well, she’s married to a cop.”
“A cop? Which one?”
He winced. “The one who was here earlier.”
“Yvonne is married to the chief?”
“No. No, not him. The patrolman.”
Casey rested her forehead in her hand. “So how do we talk to her?”
“Do you think he’s home? I mean, wouldn’t he be out with the chief, at the scene?”
“He could be. He was with him an hour or so ago. But there’s no way to know for sure.” Casey stood up and paced the room. “What time is it?”
Eric glanced at the computer. “About one-thirty.”
“When do the workers take their lunch break?”
“At HomeMaker? Three-o’clock, I think. Why?”
“Is there a way to get from the factory part of the complex to the administrative offices?”
“Sure. There’s a hallway that connects them. Two hallways, actually.”
“And you have keys?”
He shrugged. “I have a master. I can get into anywhere except Karl’s office. What are you thinking?”
“Do the workers go outside during their break?”
“Lots of them. To smoke, or eat their lunches.” His face cleared. “We’re going to mix in with them, and sneak into the building, aren’t we?”
“You up for it?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“We’ll have to walk.”
“Walk?”
“If the cops spot your car, we’re screwed.”
“Right. Besides…” He grinned crookedly. “My car’s still back at Home Sweet Home.”
Casey grimaced. “Does that mean your keys are, too?”
“Just the ones for the car. Karl would kill me if someone got ahold of HomeMaker keys, so I keep those separate.”
“Good. Put on some shoes. And we need light blue button-down shirts. You have any?”
“I’m sure I do. While I’m looking, um…”
“What?”
He touched his lip. “You’d better clean up a little.”
Casey found his bathroom, and tried not to be too shocked at her appearance. It was a wonder Eric hadn’t fainted when he first saw her. Her lip was swollen to at least twice its size, and blood had spattered across her face and chest. There was even some in her hair.
Not all her own blood, she was sure. She swallowed down the bad taste that rose in her mouth.
She scrubbed her face, being gentle around her lip, and brushed out her hair with a comb she found in a drawer. She also found some ibuprofen, and took a couple of them with water from the sink, hoping they would ease the throbbing in her arms, back, and lip.
Eric knocked on the door. “Here’s a shirt.”
She took it from him and closed the door again, stripping off her long-sleeved tee. Untying the material from around her arm, she grimaced at the nasty cut on her shoulder. It should probably have had stitches, but after washing it off she used some regular Band-Aids from the medicine cabinet to pull it as closed as she could before wrapping an Ace bandage around her whole upper arm. It was the best she could do.
Stuffing her bloodied shirt in the wastebasket, she put on Eric’s. A little large, but she wouldn’t complain about that. She twisted her hair tightly and tied it into a knot. Ready. On her way out she hesitated, then stepped back into the bathroom to run water in the sink and wash away any tell-tale blood. She retrieved her shirt from the trash and snatched the bloody washcloth from the sink.
“We’ll dump these on the way,” she told Eric when she joined him in his dark mudroom. “I don’t want the cops finding them here and getting you in trouble.”
“I’m already in trouble.”
Casey smiled grimly. “You got some dark jackets we can wear over these? And some ballcaps?”
He went back to his room and returned with a black turtleneck, a dark blue sweater, and a few choices for hats. Casey chose the sweater, not wanting the feeling of the band around her neck, and a dark blue Indians cap to go over her hair.
“Eric, how far away does Yvonne live from here?”
“A couple of blocks. Maybe three.”
She glanced at the clock. “I think we have time for a detour, as long as we keep it short. It might even make our visit to HomeMaker unnecessary.”
“What about her husband?”
“I think you’re right, that he’ll be with the chief. But if it looks like he’s around, we’ll split. And you’ll need to talk to her yourself.”
He looked uncertain.
“You can do it. If you’re scared, you just act like you’re brave.”
He smiled weakly. “I can try.”
“Good. Okay, here we go. And here’s how we should do it.”
After listening to her plan, Eric went out the back door, making an unnecessary trip to the garage in the hopes it would scare out any cops waiting for him. He then continued down the alley. Casey watched from the back window, but after a few minutes was convinced no one was following.
She eased out the door and followed the shadows through the yard and into the alley, where she broke into a jog. She caught up with Eric at the second intersection, and tossed her shirt and the washcloth into a Dumpster.
He glanced at her and she nodded. They were in the clear. For the moment.
It didn’t take long to get to Yvonne’s house. The windows were dark. No movement, no lights.
Eric’s light hair shone too brightly in the dim streetlight, and Casey gestured for him to put his hat on. He made a face. “It’s itchy.”
Casey didn’t respond, and he slid the cap over his hair.
The front of the house was hidden from where Casey stood. “Does Yvonne’s husband park his car in the garage or on the street?”
“I don’t know. I think they only have a single-car garage, so his might be in the driveway.”
Casey eased closer to the back yard of Yvonne’s house. She picked up a stick and tossed it into the fenced-off area, ducking behind a tree. When there was no response, she found another stick, a bigger one this time, and threw it closer to the house. No dogs. No movement. No lights.
“Well?” Eric said. “What now?”
Casey didn’t answer. The garage was attached to the near side of the house. Sticking to the shadows, she walked along the side of the garage, stopping before she got to the front. She listened, hearing nothing but Eric following too closely, gravel crunching under his feet. Lowering herself into a squat, she peered around the front of the garage, her eyes at knee level.
The driveway was empty, as was the curb in front of the house.
Gesturing to Eric to stay, she eased around the corner, glad to see a small window in the garage door. She peeked in. It was too dark to see anything except what looked like a sedan-sized vehicle.
She went back to the corner. “You know what kind of car Yvonne’s husband drives?”
“Not a car. A truck. Don’t know the kind.”
She nodded. “He’s not home.”
“So let’s go.”
She held up a hand. “This is all you, Eric. She knows I’m here, we might as well call the cops ourselves.”
He nodded, his face tightening. “And what am I asking her, exactly?”
“What she can tell you about the person who died because of the dryer.”
He took a deep breath and let it out.
“You don’t have to do this,” Casey said.
“Yes. I do.” He wasn’t looking at her now, but at the door of the house. Without another word he walked across the driveway and rang the doorbell, peering in the window beside the door. He jumped back, the sound of barking filling the night.
A face appeared briefly at the door, and the door opened. “You stay!” Yvonne said, pointing back toward the house. She scooted out the door, closing it behind her. The dogs barked and whined, their claws making high-pitched squeals on the door.
Casey stayed in the shadow of the garage, trying to see without being seen. Even in the dim light she could read the anxiety on Yvonne’s face. Eric was gesturing, talking. Casey couldn’t make out his words, except for Ellen’s name, repeated several times.
“No!” Yvonne finally said, her voice shrill. “No. No, no, no.”
Eric stumbled backward, Yvonne’s hands out as if she’d pushed him.
“I can’t tell you. I won’t.” She looked around, as if expecting someone to be in the driveway.
Casey pulled her head back, behind the garage.
“Leave it alone, Eric,” Yvonne said. “Please. Ellen wouldn’t… You have to. It’s not… Just go away!“ She broke off with a sob, and the door opened, then slammed.
Eric pounded on the door. “Yvonne! Yvonne, please! I need your help!”
There was no response, except for the high-pitched barking of the dogs. Eric took one more look at the two heads appearing at the door’s window, and lurched back behind the garage. “It’s no use, Casey. I’m sorry.”
Casey led him back through the neighbor’s yard, and into the alley. “Nothing to be sorry about.”
“But I didn’t find out anything.”
“Sure you did.”
He stumbled over a rock and righted himself, Casey reaching for his arm.
“What was it?” he asked. “What did I find out?”
Casey glanced back toward Yvonne’s dark house, where she was sure Yvonne huddled in the darkness with her dogs, shivering.
“You found out that she’s scared. And that changes everything.”