“You’re sensitive to evil just like most of our kind. Her eyes appeared red to you because your senses told you her soul was lost.”
“What do you mean, lost?”
“It means you won’t be able to help her go over. She’s committed herself to evil. The people you’ve helped go over have gone toward light. She walks in darkness.”
Sadie shuddered.
“She was blocking the entrance to the shed. I had to get out of there, so I picked up the baby and just walked straight through her.”
“And when you touched her?” Maeva asked, focusing intently on Sadie.
“It was like being burned alive. I thought my skin was on fire. Zack pulled me out and if he hadn’t . . .” Sadie’s stomach roiled with nausea. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if he wasn’t there. He said it looked like I was having a seizure.”
Maeva’s face grew deadly serious.
“Listen to me.” Maeva leaned forward. “This is scary shit. Don’t get mixed up in it. Dark forces can drain you of your energy. Or worse.”
Sadie put her hands in the air. “You don’t have to tell me to stay away. I’m done with that place. Besides, the cops have taken over the scene now.”
“That’s good. Real good.” Maeva sat back. “Only thing is, whoever was running that show, well, he considers that baby his own. You stole from him. There’s a good chance he’s mighty pissed at you.”
“Stop trying to scare me.”
“Fear can make you careful. You need to be very, very careful.”
5
After her martini, Maeva stayed long enough to watch a Law & Order rerun and have a cup of decaf. Once her psychic friend was gone, Sadie went to her bedroom. She took one look at the boxes Dawn had dropped off, and decided she wasn’t tired.
Crossing the hall to her den, Sadie powered up her computer and was halfway through a game of FreeCell when her office line rang. It was late, but death didn’t have a time line.
“Scene-2-Clean,” Sadie answered.
“Hi, Sadie, did you catch your beautiful face on Emerald Nine’s News at Six?” Scott Reed’s charismatic voice smoothed into her ear.
“Ass,” Sadie snarled, and promptly hung up.
When the phone rang again seconds later, she let it go to the machine and soon heard Scott’s terminally charming tone over the speaker.
“Hey, don’t know what’s got your panties in a knot, Sadie Sweets, but that on-the-scene coverage was pure aces. Not a bad word about you, and your company got great on-air buzz. Oh, and I thought the natural sunlight made the highlights in your hair look great.” He paused. “Guess you don’t want to hear my news about the baby you and Zack rescued, then. . . .”
Sadie snatched up the phone.
“What about the baby?”
“He’s doing fine. Not a goat hair on his tiny little body.” Without a pause he went on. “I heard about your other job today. What’s up with that?”
“So you’ve got nothing new on the baby. You just tricked me into picking up.” Sadie rolled her eyes and wished she’d never answered.
“I know the kid would’ve died of dehydration if you hadn’t rescued him. Who knows how long a newborn can survive in this kind of heat? Now, about that Kirkland area job . . .”
“I’ve gotta go.”
“Oh, c’mon, Sweets,” he pleaded.
“It’s Sadie, not Sweets,” Sadie corrected. “I don’t hear you calling Zack any sexist nicknames.”
“He doesn’t have your fine, um, attributes.” He chuckled lightly. “I don’t get it. Why won’t you give me your spin on the biker house? You know damn well I’ve got other sources I can use for this info.”
“Then use those sources, Scott. I don’t talk to the media about my jobs. Ever. You know that.”
“Then you leave me no choice but to do my own thing and point out the obvious.”
A feeling of dread filled Sadie’s gut.
“What’s the obvious?”
“That Scene-2-Clean caught two high-profile jobs in one day. Both connected to Fierce Force. I’ll let Jane and Joe America put two and two together and see if they come up with a conspiracy.”
“Give me a break! Someone’s got to clean up after Seattle’s drug trade and I’m helping out Scour Power with some of the jobs they’d normally take on. Nobody’s going to be stupid enough to think it’s a big deal that Scene-2-Clean worked two Fierce Force cleanups, since everyone knows the gang has their fat fingers deep into the local drug trade. They probably have a dozen meth houses operating in and around Seattle. Besides, we’ve worked meth cleanups totally unrelated to FF.”
“Ah, you’re too smart for me.” He laughed. “Still, maybe the average Joe Six-Pack would be interested in another little tidbit.”
When she said nothing, he continued.
“If I were the public, I know that I’d be curious about a company that cleans up crime and why certain people chose that line of work.”
“Whatever,” Sadie said coolly, but worry grew acidic roots in her belly. “It’s no secret why I got into the biz.”
“It would make a great human-interest story, but I’m not talking about you. I’m not so low I’d use your dead brother against you, Sadie.” His voice grew soft. “You know, Sweets, if any other reporter caught wind of the little bit of spicy info I’ve got, they’d be quick to crank it out. I’ve known about Scene-2-Clean’s dirty little secret and I’ve kept it quiet for months.”
“You’ve kept nothing quiet about Scene-2-Clean, because there is no dirt,” Sadie said, exasperated. “I run a reputable and ethical company. Everything’s above-board.”
“Hey, I don’t mind keeping my mouth shut. I want you to stay in business a long time, Sweets. You look awfully sexy in a hazmat suit.”
Sadie closed her eyes and sighed wearily.
“C’mon, Sadie, there’s no harm in giving me a little something I can run with. You wouldn’t be telling me anything that I won’t find out tomorrow afternoon when the police hold their news conference.”
“Then you don’t need me.”
“Hey, this biz is all about getting there first. Emerald Nine is number two in the six o’clock slot and we’re hungry for number one.” He paused. “Just tell me this, how much cash did they find inside the walls?”
“If there was anything found and police want to make it public, it’ll come from them. Not me,” Sadie stated evenly.
“You’re not being fair. I need an edge. It would be a helluva shame if I had to go on air with an unflattering sidebar about Scene-2-Clean instead of real meat about a house still smelling of decomp that has walls lined with a ton of cash.”
“It sounds a lot like you’re blackmailing me, Scott.”
“That’s such an ugly word.”
“Stop dancing around and tell me what you’re talking about.”
“Fine. Meet me for coffee so we can discuss things.”
Scott Reed was tenacious as hell. Sadie suspected if she blew him off, he’d run some kind of mudslinging comment about her company. She decided not to take the chance.
“Fine. I’ll meet you. Where and when?”
He gave her the address of a small coffee shop in Bellevue and half an hour later Sadie was parking her Honda Accord in the lot. Once inside, Sadie got a decaf latte because she was already on edge. When Scott showed up, he had a Mariners cap pulled down low over his eyes and was wearing faded jeans and a dark jacket. Nobody would’ve easily mistaken him for his flashy television persona.
He got himself a coffee and joined her at the corner table.
“Talk,” Sadie said.
“Nice to see you too.” He offered her a quick flash of his television smile. “How about some pleasantries like the weather? It’s sure been hot. How many records do you think Seattle’s broken with this heat wave?”
When Sadie only scowled, he leaned in and added in a throaty whisper, “Anybody ever tell you that you’re sexy as hell when you’re pissed off?”
Sadie frowned to cover her blush.
“You didn’t ask me here to flatter me.” She lowered her head to catch his gaze. “Or to stare at my boobs.”
“No, but I take my perks where I can.” He winked. After he sipped his coffee, he lowered his voice again to a near whisper. “Okay, we’ll cut to the chase. I know the cops found cash inside the house today. I want to know how much.”
“I don’t know. The cops don’t call me up and tell me stuff like that. I get called to clean up the mess. They don’t call me with their press releases.”
Scott shook his head. “I don’t buy it. You’ve got connections.” He sat back and grinned. “I’m sure all of Seattle would like to know why one of your employees isn’t allowed to work Fierce Force cleanup scenes.”
“What are you trying to say, Scott?” Sadie asked, fighting to keep her voice even.
“I’m talking about the one and only Zack Bowman.” He sat back and wiggled his eyebrows at her.
“What about him?”
“C’mon, I’m sure it wouldn’t be good for Scene-2-Clean if word leaked out that the reason Zack’s no longer arresting whores for SPD is because he was fired for a Vicodin addiction.”
Sadie could feel her control crumbling and her temper rising.
“That’s a lie. Zack was never fired.”
“Encouraged to quit. Fired. Do you really think Larry Lazy and Carole Couch Potato will make a distinction when they’re stuffing potato chips into their face in front of the television?”
“Screw you.”
“That’s a pleasant thought. I’d love for you to give me one of the sexy smiles you only reserve for Bowman.”
“First of all, stop with the ridiculous flirting. I’m probably ten years older than you and I’m not stupid. I will not be conned or blackmailed.”
“First.” He held up one finger. “You’re only about five years older and I’m dead serious when I say your body just rocks my world.” He held up a second finger. “Second, I’m not conning or blackmailing you. I’m giving you the opportunity to help me out and avoid some bad press for yourself.” He reached across with the two fingers and lifted her chin. “Seriously.”
She whipped her head away from his touch.
“Really? It sounds like you’re prepared to go all tabloid on this and if that’s the case, I don’t think there’s anything I can do about it.” Her voice was tight with anger. She took a deep drink from her coffee. “You know, Scott, I always hoped you were above that kind of snake-in-the-grass reporting.”
“I am,” he said hastily. “And blowing Zack out of the water isn’t the angle I want to go with. But I’m in a dog-eat-dog business here, Sweets.”
Sadie thought about Zack’s life being crushed by a few comments on the six o’clock news.
“Don’t do it,” she whispered with a catch in her throat.
He finished his coffee without meeting her gaze.
“I guess I really don’t need you to tell me how much cash they found. I got sources in the police department to tell me that.”
“Thank you,” Sadie said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“But I’m working on something else you might be able to help with.”
The way he leaned forward and his eyes gleamed with excitement, Sadie had a feeling she was about to find out what he really wanted.
“I’m working on an investigative series to expose Washington State’s satanic cults.”
Sadie choked on a mouthful of her latte and coughed for a full minute while Scott nodded appreciatively.
“Yup. That’s exactly the kind of reaction I’m hoping for. I want all of Seattle choking in surprise.”
“Surprise or disbelief?” Sadie cleared her throat and then smiled over her cup. “Your plan is to make Seattleites paranoid and suspicious that their neighbors are worshipping the devil?”
“Exposing Seattle’s seedy underbelly is my kind of thing. Remember my series last year on school gangs?”
“I try not to watch or listen to the news too much. I get enough reality at work.”
“Gotcha. But the rest of Seattle sure tuned in and our ratings were huge. This next segment I’m working on now is going to be even bigger. I could be in line for an Edward R. Murrow Award with this.” His eyes were alive with ambition.
He’d eased back in his chair. Talking about his work brought a hardness to his face. He was only around five feet nine but had a thickly muscled build that filled the chair. Some of the movie-star look to him didn’t translate off camera. His looks had a harsher edge without a camera lens to frame him.
“Well, I wish you much success with your witch hunt,” Sadie joked. Anxious to get back home, she pushed. “Seriously, I see no way I can help with this.”
“You should get informed, Sadie. For your own good,” Scott said. “Witigo Alliance is gonna be huge in this city. They’ll use the FF to get there.”
“The Wit what?” Sadie asked, realizing she’d heard the name already from Jake the Snake.
“The Witigo Alliance.” He put his hands on the table and leaned in. “They worship the power of darkness and I’m pretty sure they’re recruiting the bikers for their power and muscle.”
Sadie looked over one shoulder and then the other.
“Am I on some kind of prank show? Are you going to have a guy wearing devil horns pop up and scare the crap out of me?” But even as she joked, she recalled Penny Torrez and her bloodred eyes and heard Maeva’s warnings. In spite of the heat, she felt chilled.
“I don’t need you to believe, Sweets, although it would be nice. I just need you to help me get some more documentation to prove the connection between Satanism and bikers.”
“What makes you think there is a connection?”
“My gut.” He pointed to his flat, hard stomach.
“How could I possibly help you hook up with bikers and a satanic cult?”
“That is the million-dollar question.” He slammed his palm on the table and made her jump.
“In another words you don’t have a clue.”
“Oh, I’ve got clues all right.” He took an envelope from the back pocket of his jeans and pulled a photo from it.
He slid the picture across the table. Sadie glanced at it and paled. The image was grainy and slightly blurred, but there was no denying it was a goat, its carcass cut from neck to groin. It appeared to be on some kind of altar surrounded by candles.
“Hmm. Looks like a Seattle meat shop is messing with your head,” Sadie said, offering him a crooked smile.
“Nope. I got the picture from someone on the inside of Witigo’s Oregon chapter. Besides, I don’t know many butchers who surround their product with black votive candles.”
Okay, you’ve got me there.
“This is what you saw inside that shed.” He watched her closely. “The goat was surrounded by candles and the baby was stuffed inside the goat, right?”
Obviously he’d gone to the same weird seminars as Maeva and her boyfriend.
Sadie forced a laugh. “A baby inside a goat? What kind of sick horror movies do you see in your spare time?” She lowered her tone. “Look, I’ll confirm what you’ve already heard and what was already made public, thanks to Emerald Nine. Yes, there was a goat, and yes, there was a baby. If you go on air telling people the baby was inside the goat, you’re going to make a fool of yourself.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. My sources already confirmed a ritual was performed there. The thing is, they keep moving locations. They don’t want to get caught.”
Sadie kept her face impassive and Scott was quiet a moment but was obviously thinking hard about the matter.
“This time, though, they were almost caught. You interrupted them.” He waved a finger in her face. “That can’t be good for you.”
Then Scott flipped his wavy hair and switched topics hard and fast.
“The Kirkland house,” he said. “The guy shot there. His name was on my list of Witigo associates.
”
“Jake the Snake,” Sadie murmured before stopping herself.
“Right.” He pointed his finger at her again and Sadie swatted it away. “You do your homework. Impressive. Anyway, word on the street said Snake was not so into it, but his girlfriend was.”
Sadie felt his eyes on her as she struggled to keep her face impassive. She sipped her coffee quietly, waiting for him to continue.
“So what do you think of that?”
“Of what?” Sadie asked.
“That Torrez was a Satanist and now she’s dead.”
Sadie said nothing.
“You’re playing it cool. Okay. Well, how cool can you keep it now that a shitload of bikers are pissed off at you for locking up their cash in an evidence locker?”
Sadie swallowed thickly at the thought of all the bikers who’d barricaded her and Jackie in the driveway of the Kirkland home.
“Look, Scott . . . bikers, Satanists . . . this all sounds like a bad B movie and I don’t have time to—”
“The cops raided another FF meth lab. This one’s in Bellevue. My connections told me that there was a satanic ritual held in that house just before it was shut down.”
“So?”
“I want in. When you get the call to clean the place, I want to do the initial walk-through with you.”
“Forget it.”
“You always go through a place on your own first to take some pictures for your records and all that.”
Sadie felt uneasy that he knew her work habits so well.
“So it’ll be no big deal,” he continued. “I’ll come inside with you. I won’t interfere with your actual clean and I’ll wear a hazmat monkey suit too, so nobody will even recognize me.”
“No.”
“All I want is evidence that Witigo was there.”
“What part of no don’t you understand?” Sadie got to her feet.
“Fine.” Scott sighed. He followed Sadie as she walked to the door. “Well, I need something to run with.” He held the door to the coffee shop open and Sadie stepped outside. As she passed, he whispered to her back, “Guess my story will have to be an ex-cop’s drug addiction that forced him to mop blood and meth labs for a living.”
Sadie gave him a seething, furious look.
Devil May Ride Page 7