Scratchgravel Road by Tricia Fields Page B

lone cash register. She wore jeans and a bright green smock with the words FAMILY VALUE in large yellow block letters on her back. Her long red ringlets fell down her back and she looked as if she had recovered. When Josie entered, Cassidy turned, and in a split second, her expression changed from heavy-lidded bored to frightened.
    Josie looked around the store, glad to see it appeared free of customers. “How are you feeling?”
    Cassidy stretched her arms out in front of her and looked at the deep red sunburn. “The sunburn’s the only thing. Even my freckles hurt.”
    Josie smiled. “You gave me a scare.”
    Cassidy leaned down, reached under her register, and pulled out a tattered canvas purse, which she placed on the counter. She unzipped a side pocket and handed Josie a folded piece of paper.
    Josie unfolded it and found a chart, with lines drawn with a ruler and a green marker. The boxes had been carefully filled in with a blue pen in neat cursive writing, detailing her whereabouts for the past week.
    “I know I didn’t answer your questions very good yesterday. I was so freaked out by the whole day I wasn’t thinking right.” She gave Josie an imploring look. “I swear, I didn’t have anything to do with that dead man. I don’t know him, and I don’t know why he’s there. I really did just find him. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s the truth.”
    Josie scanned the chart and noticed that aside from yesterday, for the past four days, Cassidy had done nothing more than leave the house to work, other than a trip to the grocery for fifteen minutes on her way home from work on Saturday evening.
    An older woman dressed in a bright pink cotton sweat suit stepped up to the register and began placing dozens of cans of cat food on the counter. Cassidy turned and rang her up, then helped her count out the right number of dollar bills and change in her wallet. The woman apologized, saying she forgot her glasses.
    When she left the store Cassidy turned back to Josie. “She can’t read or write or count. Just hands her wallet over to whoever waits on her.”
    “Somebody’s always got it worse than you.”
    Cassidy tipped her head. “I guess.”
    “I just left your house. I talked to Leo.” Josie couldn’t decide if the wide-eyed change in Cassidy’s expression was fear or something else. Dread, maybe.
    “What did he say?”
    Josie pursed her lips, then leaned her hip against the counter. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    Cassidy sighed heavily and hopped up onto the other end of the counter. She looked down at her feet. “I know what it is.”
    “Yeah?”
    “‘What do you see in him?’” Cassidy said. “Right?”
    Josie smiled. “That’s what I’m wondering. You’re a nice girl, you’re intelligent, a hard worker, pretty. Artemis is small, not a lot of options, but—” Josie stopped, unsure how to proceed without offending her.
    Cassidy stretched her legs out and stared at her feet. “He’s not that bad. He just says things to people because he doesn’t feel good about himself. He knows people look down at him. It makes him mad and he gets defensive.” She looked up. “He doesn’t do that to me. I swear it.”
    “He doesn’t talk down to you?”
    Cassidy didn’t answer the question. She crossed her arms over her chest and pulled them in tight as if she were cold.
    “Would you tell me if you were in trouble? If you needed help?” Josie asked.
    She sniffed and lifted a shoulder but said nothing.
    “No one can figure out why a girl who’s shown no interest in hiking would suddenly choose to go out in the middle of a record-breaking heat wave.”
    “I don’t know what else to say. I just did.”
    “Any explanation about the wallet?”
    She looked up then, her face finally animated. “I swear, I didn’t put it there. I never saw it before.”
    “Why didn’t you tell Leo about the wallet in your car?”
    Her face registered surprise, and then worry. “Did you tell