“Two that I know of.” The girl headed for the door. “Run while you can.”
“Thanks.”
Casey continued to the Gallenskis’ apartment. Ursula answered the door dressed in blue jeans and a T-shirt that barely covered her bulging stomach. A sudsy bucket and a pair of yellow rubber gloves sat by the door. Casey tried not to smile. She’d never pictured Ursula as the cleaning type.
“You look busy,” Casey said.
“People moving out, people moving in.” Ursula removed a key from the board by the door. “I hate these losers.” Ursula handed her the key. “Bring it back when you’re done. Someone else is supposed to drop by, so leave the door unlocked.” She put on the gloves. “You won’t take off without paying, will ya? I’ll be in suite three- ten.”
“Of course not.”
“Right, you’re one of the good guys.” Ursula watched her. “I heard you’ve been tracking down the skanky half sister.”
Casey frowned. “Who told you that?”
“That dingbat Marie told Paval.”
Just great. “Why would she tell your husband?”
“They’re friendly. Why, I’ll never know.”
So, Ursula now knew about her interest in the murder. Damn, damn, damn. Casey stepped into the corridor. “I’ll get the stool.”
“What did that cold witch have to say?” Ursula asked.
A suspect would want to hear what she knew. “Gabrielle warned me to stay away from her mother.” Paval walked up to her, carrying a basketful of clothes. A tiny baby slept on top of the clothes. “Cute bundle you got there.”
“Warm laundry puts them right to sleep.” His smile faded. “Did I hear you mention Gabrielle O’Reilly?”
“She threatened Casey,” Ursula said. “I think that chick’s more than capable of blowing someone’s head off.”
“I told Corporal Lundy that Gabrielle and Birch are a couple. She’s the one you spotted in his car.”
Ursula didn’t look surprised. Paval, on the other hand, seemed baffled. “How do you know?”
“I saw them together, and Gabrielle admitted it yesterday. She claims she wasn’t in Vancouver the day Jasmine died. Anyway, she’s on the mainland now. We rode the same ferry over.”
“She’s here?” Ursula asked. She put her hand on her swollen belly and avoided Casey’s gaze.
The longer Casey watched her, the more nervous Ursula seemed. “Did you know about Birch and Gabrielle?”
“No, what a stupid thing to say.” She started to leave.
Paval stood in the doorway. “Did you recognize Gabrielle in Birch’s car?”
“All right, I did, yeah. I thought they’d hooked up to hurt Jasmine and maybe even take Jeremy. It looks like they decided to kill her instead.”
“Did you tell the police?” Casey asked.
“What for? It would only be my word against theirs.”
Maybe Ursula had seen Gabrielle up close and decided to blackmail her. She might have already stooped to stealing from tenants. “I’d better get that stool.”
“It’s twenty bucks.” Ursula held out her gloved hand.
“Let her see it first, darling,” Paval said, “then we’ll work out a fair price.”
“Look, Pav, I’m trying to do everything I can to put money aside. You know maternity benefits won’t cover what I get from tips. We can’t slide into poverty either. I’m not going through that shit again.”
The phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” Ursula put down the bucket and removed one glove.
“Be right back,” Casey said, and started down the hall.
She unlocked Jasmine’s apartment and stepped into a room reeking of garbage and over-used kitty litter. The red shag looked dirtier than she remembered. The only furniture in the living room was the sunflower footstool and a broken wooden chair.
The chill Casey had felt her first time in this apartment returned. She hated being here. It was as if Jasmine’s essence still hovered. She glanced at the dark kitchen cupboards and yellow countertop, a throwback to the seventies when this building was probably constructed. Casey headed for Jasmine’s bedroom, curious to see what else was left.
The bed and bureau were gone, as were her disco clothes, wigs, red feather boa, and even her shoes. In Jeremy’s room, she found a box of clothes and a crucifix on the wall. Otherwise, the room had been picked clean. Poor Jeremy. His life had changed so much. Was he still waiting for his mom to come and get him?
Feeling a bit queasy from the apartment’s stench, Casey headed for the bathroom, flipped on the light, and tossed her gum in the garbage. She sat on the edge of the tub and took slow deep breaths. Reminders of Jasmine were everywhere: a toothbrush in a red plastic cup, mascara and lipstick by the sink. Bath toys cluttered the top of the toilet tank.
Jasmine hadn’t been the world’s best housekeeper. The tile grout around the tub was black in places. Blue decals on the bottom of the green tub were also stained. Staring at the decals, Casey recalled the photo of Jeremy. He’d been sitting in the bathtub and grinning up at the camera. But hadn’t the picture seemed much brighter? Casey looked at the two swag lamps on each side of the sink. The wattage wasn’t strong.
The sound of a closing door made Casey jump. The other buyer? She hoped this person didn’t want the stool. Casey left the bathroom and flinched when she saw Elliott Birch walking toward her.
Birch stopped and gaped at her. “You were at the funeral.”
Her heartbeat quickened. “Yes.”
“You’re a friend of that Crenshaw bitch.”
“We’re coworkers, but no one would call us friends.” Crap, he was blocking her path to the living room. “Are you here for the sale too?”
“I’m picking up the rest of Jeremy’s stuff, but I ain’t paying for nothin’.”
His black hair, which had been slicked down at the funeral, was disheveled. Casey leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, hoping to look more at ease than she felt. “How’s your son doing?”
His eyes narrowed. “What’s it to ya?”
“Just making conversation.” Birch’s stare rattled her. Why wasn’t he saying anything about her confrontation with Gabrielle? Surely he knew about it.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I came to buy the footstool.” She nodded toward the living room.
Watching his hands, she strolled toward him. If he reached in his pockets she could be in deep trouble. Birch was shorter and thinner than her, but still dangerous. Her heart pounded so hard her chest hurt. She walked closer, but he didn’t move. When she was close enough to touch him, he turned and let her pass. Casey marched toward the stool, feeling his gaze on her back. She lifted it and turned so she could examine the piece while keeping Birch in view.
“Why do ya want that shit?” he asked. “It’s dirty.”
“Dirt can be removed.” Moron. “I like sunflowers and it’s beautifully embroidered.”
“Yeah well, I suppose everybody’s good at one thing.” Birch hurried to the door, blocking her exit. “When are you and Crenshaw going to stop acting like cops? Gabby told me about you and Hannah.” He looked like he wanted to flay her. “If you tell her mother about us, I swear you’ll regret it.”
If Birch had a weapon, he would have waved it at her by now. Maybe he preferred his fists. “Seeing as how you didn’t kill Jasmine,” she said, holding the stool chest high, “you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Birch laughed. “Damn straight.”
What was he hoping to do? Marry Gabrielle so he could cash in on the inheritance when Hannah died? Casey flung open the door and hurried down the hallway. She looked over her shoulder. Birch wasn’t following. As she rapped on the Gallenskis’ door at the far end of the hall, Birch stepped out of the apartment, carrying the box she’d seen in Jeremy’s closet.
Ursula was still on the phone when she opened the door. Somewhere in the apartment, Casey heard a baby
