Dying Echo A Grim Reaper Mystery - By Judy Clemens Page 0,1

now that she’d messed up. She’d tried to be good. She really had.

So much for good intentions, and all that.

She liked being there. It was a pretty town. Her apartment was decent, and her job was okay. The name Alicia—genteel but not unusual—was one of her favorites. Lots of nicknames so people didn’t get too used to any one thing, which was great. She’d always liked nicknames. They made her feel loved in a weird sort of way. Ali. Lisa. Leesh. She got called all of them. When customers and the manager weren’t calling her honey. Or sweetie. Or hey you, girl with the menus.

And then there was Ricky. When she left town she’d be leaving him, too. He was the type of thing she needed to avoid. Always had in the past. But other guys in other towns at other times had been different. Fun and empty. She hadn’t counted on Ricky being so…whatever he was. He didn’t care she was older than he was. He didn’t care she wasn’t chatty and bouncy. He seemed to actually like her for who she was. Well, who she was as he knew her. But she supposed he’d get over it when she left. She supposed they always did.

Although she might not. Not this time. This could be even worse for her than losing Wayne, way back in that other lifetime. It would be far, far easier to leave now, though, before Ricky had a taste of what she could really offer, easier than to wait until her presence tore his world irreparably apart.

A sound, like a footfall on gravel, came from behind her, and she stopped, glancing over her shoulder. A plastic bag blew across the pavement, scuttling like a frightened animal. It wrapped around a light post, then wriggled away, scraping against the brick of a building before wafting into the air and down the block. She shook her head at her nervousness and continued walking.

A car came toward her, then passed, its lights flashing across her path and the storefronts, which were all closed this time of night. Tourists hardly ever found their dank little section of streets, not even during the day. There was really no point staying open past eight. Waste of money and electricity. Much better to be home, or better yet, in the nicer part of town. Alicia hardly ever went up there, though. Maybe with Ricky, when he felt like getting out. She preferred the quieter, darker, shadow life in the non-tourist streets. Fewer people, fewer chances to mess up.

She rounded the corner and looked up the street toward her apartment. It was a house, really, with the basement made into a separate living space. She didn’t mind being underground. In fact, she sort of liked it. It was like a cocoon. Or a cave. Perfect for her.

The neighborhood was quiet that night. Nobody was out. Televisions flickered behind curtains, or could be seen right through the front windows. Crickets chirped in the cool night, probably one of their last hurrahs of the season, and a breeze ruffled the trees. Alicia stopped outside her door and breathed in again. This Colorado air was the best. Better than the humidity of northern Florida, or the frozen tundra of Alaska. This was fresh and cool, sort of like those days she’d spent in New England several years ago. Not like the weather of her childhood. That was different from all of the others.

She let herself into her apartment and flipped on the light in the tiny entryway. The mail lay scattered on the floor where the landlord had dropped it through the slot, and she picked it up. Nothing personal, of course. Coupons for the pizza place. An envelope saying that “Yes! She could own her own home!” And a promise that the local water company would give her the purity she deserved. Wouldn’t that be something.

She dropped her purse onto the floor and stretched. It was good to be home. She walked past the kitchen door into the living-slash-bedroom and turned on the light. She turned a slow circle, happy in her little nest, and made her decision. A decision that would affect many people in the coming hours, days, and much, much longer. She decided that, “Yes. It was a good night for company.” She pulled out her phone and dialed Ricky. “Want to come over?”

A smile colored his voice. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He was knocking on the door when she emerged