Chapter 18

Casey turned down a side street in Glendale, a really nice suburban neighborhood from the look of the houses and their well-kept lawns. Modest rather than well-to-do, but I thought that was pretty cool. He pushed a garage door opener on the visor of his car and pulled into the driveway of a two-story house painted light gray with a steel blue trim. Casey parked his car inside the garage.

“Home sweet home,” he said, turning to me with a smile.

“It’s very nice. Do you own or rent?”

“The bank owns, but I’m paying the mortgage,” Casey said as we got out of his car. “It’s a little big for one guy, I know. But I fell in love with the backyard because it was big enough for me to have a vegetable garden and then I liked the inside, too.”

“You like to garden?”

“Yeah, family trait. My parents were big gardeners. You ever spend time with my mom at a family gathering and she talks nonstop about it. The two of us get going and everyone’s eyes glaze over.” He laughed.