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 him.” She considered her words. “What I’m wondering is, is that dislike business or personal?”
He stood up. “Look, Casey, I don’t know why you want to know, or, really, who you even are, so I’m not sure why we’re talking about this.”
“I know. It’s very presumptuous of me. But it’s important.”
“To whom? You? I can’t see how. Unless Thomas is right and you really are more than you appear to be.”
She let out a short laugh. “So he told you that, too? What is he afraid of?”
“You, apparently.”
She shook her head. “Are you, too?”
“I wasn’t. Not until you came here, asking questions.”
“I’m sorry.” She was. “But it’s just…I think Ellen’s family deserves to know.”
He went white, and glanced toward his house. “There’s nothing to know. Nothing happened, and nothing was going to.”
Casey held up a hand. “I don’t mean about you. I mean about…why she died.”
He looked down at his glass, and then up again, his eyes pained. “She killed herself. Do we really need to know more?”
“You really believe that? That she…committed suicide?”
He closed his eyes. “It’s what they say, isn’t it? The cops?”
“Yes. But do you think they’re right? Other people think they’re wrong.”
His eyes opened. “Look, Casey, I don’t know why you’re here, or why you’re asking these questions. I liked Ellen.” He glanced at the house. “She was kind, and smart, and…and real. But as for killing herself?” He shrugged. “She was a single mom without any hope for a good job here in Clymer. She was going to have to leave, get help, or…or something. I don’t know exactly why she did it. And I wish like hell she hadn’t. But I don’t know anything to say she didn’t.”
Casey turned away from the pain on his face. She could feel it radiating from him, like heat. “Todd, I don’t think she did.”
He didn’t move.
“In fact, I don’t think you do, either. Nobody who knew her well believes it.”
He waved his glass toward the sky. “So what are we supposed to do? I’m not a cop. Or a doctor.”
“No. But you know things. Things that could tell her story.”
“I don’t know anything.” He looked down at her. “Like what?”
“Like why you went storming into Karl’s office two weeks ago. And why you came storming back out.”
“What?”
“People saw you, Todd. Was it…did he threaten you? About Ellen?”
“About…” His face wrinkled in confusion, then cleared. “Do you mean…no. No. He had nothing to threaten me with. Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Look. I don’t know how to prove it to you. But it wasn’t a personal visit.”
“But you know which one I’m talking about?”
He set his glass on the bumper and rubbed his face hard with the heels of his hands. “I don’t go over to HomeMaker. Hardly ever. If they—he—needs something, he comes to the bank. To my office. But that time…” He looked at her. “I went to him.”
“About what?”
“Casey, I can’t tell you that. I’ll get fired.”
He would. Of course.
She stuck her hands in her back pockets and looked up at his house. He needed his job. He had three daughters. Property. A wife. “It wasn’t personal?”
“No. I swear.”
She studied his face. His eyes, piercing hers. “Okay.”
“Todd?”
He jumped, looking toward the house. “Coming, honey.”
His wife stood in the doorway, a rag in her hand, her clothes just as dirty as Todd’s, although her spider web was draped across her hair.
Todd gestured to Casey. “She’s in the play. Had a couple of questions.”
“Oh.” His wife smiled. “The new girl?”
“That’s me,” Casey said. “The new girl.”
“Wonderful. Todd, when you’re done talking there’s some old insulation that needs to be changed beside the furnace.”
He sighed heavily. “Coming, dear.”
With a wave of her rag, she disappeared back into the house.
“Well,” Casey said, “Thanks.”
He huffed. “For nothing.”
She shrugged. “Not entirely. See you at rehearsal?”
