The silence on the phone was ominous. “Leave it to me, Casey. I’ll take care of it. And besides, if they’re trying to find you—which they shouldn’t be doing in the first place—what exactly are they going to do if not contact you?”
Casey wasn’t sure she wanted to think about that. “Ricky said he was going to send you some more papers for me to sign. You should get them in a day or two.”
“What are they?”
“Don’t know. But I’ll give you an address soon, where you can send them.”
“Where are you now?”
She smiled. “You and Ricky. You just won’t stop, will you?”
“Hey, a guy’s got to keep trying, doesn’t he? One of these days…”
“Yeah. One of these days it won’t matter anymore.” She looked across the picnic table toward the playground, where this time two fathers played with the children. She swallowed the large lump in her throat. “And don’t bother trying to call me back at this phone number. Ricky already called it from home, so I’ll have to ditch it.”
“Casey—”
“They’re not going to stop, Don. They’ll keep looking till they succeed, and I really don’t want to find out what they want.”
“It can’t be—”
“Thanks for everything. I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. But Casey…take care of yourself, okay? Do you need money?”
Casey laughed. “Don, you’re the one who signed that agreement with Pegasus. You know I don’t need money.”
He sighed. “I know. But it’s the sort of thing one is supposed to ask.”
“Well, you don’t have to ask me. Good-bye, Don.”
“Good-bye. And Casey?”
“Yeah?”
“Call again soon.”
She pushed the off button and considered the phone. How such a small piece of equipment could betray her… She got back on her bike, taking a last look at the fathers and their kids. Reuben had never gotten to play with Omar at a playground. Never taken him to a ball game. Never got to hear that universal first word. Da-da.
She pointed the bike toward the highway, and began pedaling.
Chapter Twenty
Several trucks sat in the over-sized parking lot of The Burger Palace. Casey looked around to make sure none of the truckers were in their cabs, and picked the trailer with the most remote license plate. Oregon. After carefully wiping the phone of all personal information, phone numbers, and fingerprints, Casey threw it on the cement several times, until the screen was cracked and it would no longer turn on.
She picked up a few stray broken pieces, then ducked under the truck, searching until she found a crevice where the phone would be neither discovered nor dislodged any time in the near future. She stood back up, glancing around again to make sure she hadn’t been spotted, and rode quickly away, not looking back.
The diner, across the street, had a few cars in the parking lot, and Casey realized she was hungry. The benefits of the orange juice had long gone, and her appetite had, for no apparent reason, returned. After seeing the article at the library, she’d been convinced she wouldn’t ever eat again.
She parked the Schwinn along the side of the building and went in the front door, inhaling the rich diner aromas of coffee, hash browns, and grease. The sign told her to please seat herself, so she chose a place at the front window, where a little of the autumn sun stole across the table.
“What can I get you?” The young waitress—Kristi, by her nametag—didn’t chew gum, and she wore low- slung black pants under her pink-and-white striped diner uniform shirt. No fifties diner look for her.
“Is there a daily special?”
“Breakfast is pumpkin pancakes. Lunch is shredded chicken sandwich and mashed potatoes. You could have either.”
“Oh.” Casey picked up her menu and perused the lunch items. “I’ll just have a hamburger. Fries. Cole slaw.”
The waitress took the menu and stuck it under her arm. “Anything to drink?”
“Lemonade?”
“Sure. I’ll be back in a minute.” The girl flashed her a brief smile and left in a wake of hair product smell that rivaled the coffee.
Casey sat back in the vinyl bench seat and looked around the diner. Not a busy lunch crowd, but then, she was early—more like the brunch crowd—and the people of Clymer didn’t seem to have a lot of extra money for the luxury of someone else’s cooking. An older couple sat in the corner booth. A single man at the counter. No one she knew. Which wasn’t at all surprising.
She looked out the window, across the parking lot, and saw the corner of the main HomeMaker building. She leaned forward, toward the glass, to take in more of the factory, and wondered again what had happened to Ellen Schneider. Had she been killed? Or were her friends just wrong when they said she wouldn’t do such a thing as kill herself?
“Mind if I join you?”
Casey looked up, expecting her usual companion, but was pleasantly surprised to see Todd Nolan, the banker, standing beside her table.
“That would be fine. Have a seat.”
He did, and the waitress was soon at the table, setting down Casey’s lemonade and allowing Todd to put an arm around her waist.
He smiled. “How’s your day going, sweetheart?”
The blood in Casey’s veins went cold, and she calculated how quickly she could reach over and suppress his carotid artery, sending him to sleep. Or perhaps she should just kick his shin under the table.
Kristi rolled her eyes and stepped away from his arm. “Daaaad, not in front of the customers.” She looked sideways at Casey. “You two here together?”
Casey let out the breath she’d been holding, and allowed her body to move back into normal “at ease” mode. His daughter.
Todd grinned at the girl. “She’s in the play. Casey, right?”
Casey nodded.
“I just met her last night.”
Kristi still didn’t seem so sure. “Mom know?”
“That I’m in the play? Of course she does.”
Kristi opened her mouth to say something else and Todd patted her leg. “The usual, okay? And not too much salad dressing this time?”
She cocked her hip at him and flounced away, leaving him to chuckle. “You have kids?”
Casey’s throat closed, and she grabbed her lemonade, taking a deep swallow, but choking on the sweet drink.
“You okay?” Todd looked ready to perform the Heimlich, his palms flat on the table, his elbows up, to propel him from the bench.
She set her glass down and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
He nodded. “No kids, I take it?”
“No.”
He glanced at her hand. “Married?”
She shook her head.
“Kristi’s my oldest. Got two more in high school. All girls.” He smiled. “Whenever they start talking about
