“No rehearsal tomorrow,” he said. “Take Sunday off.”
“Thank you, kind leader,” Lonnie said, then ducked the wadded papers Aaron and Jack threw at him.
Casey was making her way toward Jack, to see if Johnny’s news about dryers sparked any memories, when Thomas called her name.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Again?” Eric said.
Thomas bestowed an angry look on him. “I have the right to talk with my actors.”
“Sure, but Thomas—”
“It’s all right,” Casey said. “You go on. I’ll be fine.”
“But we need to figure out what—”
“I’ll be fine.” Shut up about the dryer, Eric.
Leila was waiting beside Eric, cracking a stick of gum, and did her part in getting him up the aisle and out of the theater.
Becca stood at Casey’s elbow, her arms full of notebooks. “Do you need me, Thomas?”
“What? Oh, no. You can go.”
She shot a glance at Casey before leaving the same way as the others.
“Thomas…”
“Listen, Casey. I don’t know who you are. But I know why you’re here.”
“You do?”
“I’m sorry I ever got involved in it, okay? I’m sorry I ever even went to Louisville. I’m out of it now. It’s over. Done. Finis.”
“Look, Thomas, I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what you were into—”
His head snapped up.
“—and it’s really none of my business. Whatever the deal is between you and Eric, well, that’s just the way it is.”
“Eric?” His lips formed a tight line. “This is way past Eric.”
“I don’t understand.”
He shook his head slowly. “I wish you wouldn’t play it this way.”
“Thomas, I’m not playing this any way. I’m telling you I’m not here for you.”
He laughed under his breath. “You said that the first day. I wish I could believe it.”
“What can I do to prove it to you?”
He stood and gathered his things, still not looking at her. “Nothing. Not anymore. Good-bye, Casey.” He strode quickly up the aisle and left, without looking back.
“Weird,” Casey said out loud, and followed him up the aisle. His taillights were already shining in the distance by the time she made it outside.
Eric, however, was still there. “Do not tell me to go away.”
“Okay.”
“I’m walking you home, and I don’t want any arguments about it.”
She held up her hands. “Okay.”
He cocked his head. “You’re not going to tell me to leave you alone?”
“No.”
“Oh. Well. Good. What did Thomas want?”
She let her hands fall. “He still thinks I’m a spy or a cop, or somebody, who’s come to reveal some hidden secret about his past.”
“Do you know one?”
“Not for sure. Certainly not from anything you’ve told me.”
He winced.
“But I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a little gambling debt.”
Eric’s mouth dropped open.
Casey blinked. “I’m right? Really? I’m right.”
Eric gave a humorless laugh. “No. Not exactly.”
“It’s not gambling.”
“Oh, it’s gambling, all right. But not just a little.”
Casey stared in the direction Thomas’ car had gone, then looked back at Eric. “So how not just a little are we talking about?”
Eric took a deep breath. “He gambled on horse races. Not just the Derby. But all of them. Whenever he could get away from the theater, and sometimes even when he couldn’t. He lost so much money he had to take out loans.”
“I’m thinking they weren’t loans from banks.”
“Hardly.”
Casey took a step away, then back. “You’re telling me there’s organized crime in Louisville?”
“I know, it doesn’t seem right, does it? But there’s a lot of money at Churchill Downs.”
She shook her head. “But who does that make me? Someone from the mob? Do I look like a leg breaker to you?”
His mouth twitched. “From what Rosemary told me—”
She waved him off. “Does he think I’m from them, or from the cops?”
He shrugged. “Either one would be bad for him.”
“I guess so. Poor Thomas.”
“Poor Thomas? Are you kidding me?”
She gave a little smile. “Sometimes people get in over their heads…”
He stared at her. “I just can’t figure you out.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe that’s for the best. Shall we go?” She started off in the direction of The Nesting Place, not waiting for him to follow.
“Casey—” He trotted to catch up with her.
“So that’s what you have over Thomas? You know about his gambling?”
“Well, partly. That and the fact he’s been begging my dad for money. He’d be devastated if people found out about it.”
Casey winced. Having to ask Karl Willems for anything would be enough to send you into depression. Asking for huge amounts of money would be enough to incapacitate even the strongest person.
“Where’s Leila, anyway?” she said, noticing they were alone. “I’m assuming you didn’t leave her to walk back to her car by herself.”
“No. Todd drove her.”
“Bet she wasn’t too happy about that.”
Eric winced. “No. Not too happy.”
Casey stuck her script in her jacket pocket. “Did you have a chance to say anything to Jack?”
“About the dryers? Yeah. I told him, and Aaron, too, what Johnny said. It didn’t mean anything to either of them, but they promised they’d think about it.”
They walked in silence for a few more steps.
“Casey…”
“Yeah?”
He waited a few more moments, began to speak, then stopped. “Did one of HomeMaker’s dryers actually kill somebody?”
“I guess it’s possible. But you’d expect the culprit to be something electrical, not a door latch. Or something like a heating element that could burn a house down.”
“Yeah.”
Eric fell silent as they passed under a streetlight and turned a corner on the sidewalk. “I think I remember.”
“Remember what?“
“What I was talking to Karl about in that video. I can’t imagine it would have anything to do with… It was
