“Mom always figured he’d die falling off a mountain, not with a gun to his head,” Sadie said sadly.
She tossed it onto the pile that she’d designated for recycling. Then she came across a couple of novels. Romances. Sadie frowned. Brian was definitely more of a Stephen King fan. Obviously the paperbacks must’ve belonged to Joy, Brian’s fiancée.
After Brian’s death, Joy hadn’t stuck around to pack up Brian’s stuff. Instead, she’d returned to the house only briefly to pack up her own belongings. Then she headed to Los Angeles to live with her mom and dad. Sadie didn’t blame her. They all felt like running away after the tragedy.
Sadie started a second pile with the novels and mentally labeled the pile stuff to be donated to charity. She added to that pile a clock radio and some knickknacks.
Once she was three-quarters of the way through the first box, the recycling pile was much higher than the others. She’d started a third pile for things to be kept and the largest item in that stack was a photo album. Sadie had expected a sharp jolt of pain when she’d opened it, but there was only a remote ache. She wasn’t ready to buy into the old adage that time heals. Nobody ever fully recovered from burying a family member. It was bittersweet for Sadie to realize that six years had dulled the sharp edges of pain surrounding her brother’s suicide.
She pushed the album aside and quickened her pace in going through the remnants at the bottom of the carton: a couple of glass paperweights carefully wrapped in newsprint and another folder of mixed receipts and various household bills.
When she tossed the last of those sheets into the recycling pile, a glossy pamphlet fluttered from the folder. Sadie reached for it and looked it over.
Onyx House: A Journey to Within blazed across the front in red glossy lettering. Curious, Sadie flipped open the brochure and scanned the description of services. At Onyx House you could get your chakras balanced and your energies unblocked. You could also attend workshops on shamanic divination, vibrational healings, and Ortho-Bionomy along with psychic readings. All the services were offered in a “relaxed bed-and-breakfast environment in the heart of Seattle’s Capitol Hill.” Huh. The photos showed a turn-of-the-century home with lush gardens and inside rooms that were warm and filled with comfortable antiques. Not exactly the kind of place she could see Brian frequenting on a regular basis.
Then Sadie closed the brochure and noticed a slip stapled to the back page. She looked at it and frowned. It was an invoice for a weekend at Onyx House with both Brian’s and Joy’s names listed on the reservation.
Okay, I guess it is the kind of place Brian would go to, Sadie thought.
The itemized bill showed the couple had spent three nights there partaking in a so-called “Psychic Retreat for Advanced Mediumship—Learn to Hone Your Skills for Contacting the Departed.”
“What the hell?” Sadie cried.
Her jaw dropped and she slowly shook her head from side to side.
The fact that her brother, a very down-to-earth and outdoorsy kind of guy, had actually stayed at the place struck Sadie as odd. More than odd. Downright weird. Stranger still was the fact that he’d attended a workshop on contacting ghosts.
But what caused her hands to tremble was the date on the receipt. According to the itemized invoice, Brian and Joy would’ve been guests at the freaky B and B only days before Brian sat in his bathtub, put a gun in his mouth, and blew his brains out.
7
When the phone rang, Sadie had no idea how long she’d been sitting on the floor surrounded by paperwork. Absently, she got to her feet and reached for the bedside phone.
“Hello?”
“Finally,” Sadie’s mom said with exasperation. “I’ve been trying to get you for days. Did you get my messages?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you call me back?”
“Sorry, I’ve been busy,” Sadie murmured. “Can we talk later?” She glanced down and realized she was still holding the Onyx House pamphlet.
“No,” her mom said angrily. “We need to talk about the shower.”
“Okay.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Damn it, Sadie, the food!” she shouted. “Are you or are you not going to take care of the food for Dawn’s shower? We’ve got only a few days to pull this together and I don’t want you picking up a bag of potato chips on your way over. I want some real effort and—”
“It’s done. I’ve already taken care of everything. Stop worrying.”
“Really?” Mom’s tone was laced with disbelief.
“Yes. Really. I’ve asked Maeva’s boyfriend, Terry, to take care of the food. He’s an excellent high-end caterer, and he’s going to provide loads of appetizers, sandwiches, and a cake in the shape of a stork.”
“Oh.” She paused. “If he’s an excellent high-end caterer why is he available at such short notice?”
“God, Mom!” Sadie blew out a breath. “He has a catering job Saturday night and that’s why he’s okay providing food for us Saturday afternoon. He’s just making extra trays and the cake.”
“Okay, then.” She finally sounded satisfied. “That sounds good.”
“It’ll be great.” Sadie looked again at the brochure. “Mom, have you ever heard of a place called Onyx House?”
“Onyx House?” she repeated. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’m going through Brian’s things and I happened to come across an invoice for a local B and B with that name. Brian and Joy stayed there.”
“I’ve never heard of it, although I remember Joy saying they’d thought of using a local B and B for the wedding reception.”
Her mother’s voice had taken on the wounded and distant tone it always did when her brother’s name came up.
“This place sounds kind of . . .” Weird. Bizarre. “New Agey. Not exactly like Brian’s thing.”
“Well, Joy really liked that kind of stuff,” Mom replied. “She was into all kinds of off-the-wall things like tarot cards and such.”
“Really?” Sadie said with surprise.
“Sure, I remember Brian teasing Joy about going to get her chakras aligned or some darn thing.”
“Huh.” Sadie was taken aback by this bit of news. Truthfully, she hadn’t gotten to know her brother’s fiancée nearly as well as she probably should have. Joy had always seemed standoffish around Brian’s family and Sadie hadn’t wanted to push. At the time, Sadie figured she’d have a lifetime to get to know Joy.
“I saw her the other day, you know,” Mom said.
“Who?”
“Joy.”
“Here? In Seattle?”
“Of course, here in Seattle! It’s not like I’ve been out gallivanting across the country lately.”
“Right. I just meant that last I heard, Joy was in Los Angeles living with her mom and dad.”
“She did that for a while. When I ran into her at the grocery store, she told me that she’d moved back to Seattle just a few months afterward.”
She didn’t have to say after what.
“So she’s been back here for years. Her mother and father retired and moved to Texas.”
“So how is Joy?” Sadie asked for lack of anything else to say.
“Fine. She got married,” Mom added, her voice thick.
Sadie knew what her mom was thinking. That the plan had been for Joy to be married to Brian. Of course she would’ve moved on. She was a young woman. It was only natural that after six years she would’ve found someone else. But it still hurt. Sadie quickly changed the subject.
“Terry will drop off the food early on Saturday,” Sadie blurted. “So just make sure there’s room in your fridge. Did you want me to pick up wine and mixers?”
“No, but you could help with decorating. Your aunt Lynn will help, but the woman is hopeless when it comes to crafts.”
“If I have time, I’ll drop by,” Sadie said, thinking it was the last thing she’d find time to do.
They
finalized the details and just as Sadie was saying good-bye, her mother quickly added, “Your aunt Lynn drove into town last night. Since she’s got her car here, she plans to do some visiting and she asked for your number. If she calls, be polite and invite the woman over for tea.”
“Yeah, sure,” Sadie replied, but she inwardly cringed and not just because she hated tea. She hadn’t seen her aunt since Brian’s funeral.
When Sadie hung up, she grabbed her digital camera and headed out to her garage, pausing only to activate her house alarm. In the garage she spent a few moments making sure the Scene-2-Clean van was well stocked before she climbed behind the wheel.
While she traveled south on the I-5, Sadie called Lou Montie to let him know she was on her way. She made a quick stop at Starbucks for a triple latte and was taking the first sip when Zack called.
“Anything happening today?” he asked.
“I’ve got a small job a little bit out of town. I’m on my way there now.”
“Need help?”
“I don’t think so. It’s an RV with some bloodstains inside.”
“An RV? That’s something new.”
“Apparently people will bleed just about anywhere,” Sadie said. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”
They ended the call and Sadie cranked up the radio and sang along with Sarah McLachlan. After a while she checked the directions Lou Montie had given her. Based on the directions, Sadie had estimated she’d arrive in less than half an hour, but she hadn’t counted on traveling down an extremely narrow gravel road. Deep ditches lined either side and since her van was big, she straddled both lanes and slowed. Her tires kicked up clouds of dust as she drove the big Scene-2-Clean van past a tall line of cedars on her right. Mr. Montie had indicated she’d be able to see the RV on a driveway not far from this clump of trees.
The dirt road climbed a slight hill and when she reached the top, Sadie could see a large outbuilding with brown vinyl siding about a quarter mile down on the left side. Then, suddenly, there it was. A short driveway seemingly in the middle of nowhere with an impressive silver motor home with teal-striped detailing parked there gleaming in the sun.
The road she’d driven on was narrow, but the driveway appeared to be an even tighter fit. The RV was parked in a field, but the bumper protruded into the driveway, so there was barely enough space for Sadie to park. She carefully backed into the driveway until the back of the van was close to the RV. When she opened the door of her van, she had to climb out carefully so as not to step off the drive and into the deep gully on either side.
A hot breeze blew across the field, and dust swirled around Sadie’s feet as she opened the rear of the van. She snagged her camera, slipped into a hazmat suit and went looking for the key to the RV. Mr. Montie said it would be in a magnetic key box under the metal stairs. Her fingers flicked away a large spiderweb and then found the box. She stuck the key into the door of the motor home and stepped inside.
The door opened onto a stylish living area with a beige leather-look sofa and soft mocha-colored blinds shading the windows. Beyond the sitting area was the cockpit driving area with comfy captain chairs in the same leather look. To Sadie’s left was an impressive kitchen area with honey oak cabinetry and a booth dinette. Sadie couldn’t believe the good-sized fridge, stove, and even microwave. The spacious luxury of the unit made Sadie think a cross-country vacation could actually be appealing.
On the left was a hall with a couple doors most likely leading to a bedroom and bath. Since Mr. Montie had told her the knife fight took place in the back bedroom, she headed down the hall.
Guessing the bedroom would be through the door right at the end of the hall, Sadie headed straight there. She opened the door, squinted in the bright light, and frowned. The blinds had been pulled up, making the room unbearably hot. The sun also flooded the room with light, shining a spotlight on every corner. Sadie couldn’t see a single drop of blood. She walked to the other side of the bed and looked around from that angle. She was beginning to think she was either in the wrong room or in the wrong recreational vehicle.
Deciding to check the other rooms off the hall, Sadie took a step toward the door and stopped short when movement outside caught her eye. The barn-sized outbuilding up the road had opened its doors. Sadie heard the low rumble of a motorcycle engine and watched as a lone rider in black slowly rolled out of the doorway and idled there. He wouldn’t be able to see her from this distance, but Sadie felt like he was looking right at her.
“It’s one motorcycle guy,” she chastised herself. “Not every guy who rides a Harley is a member of Fierce Force.”
She left the room and went down the hall. She flung open the next door and it opened onto the cramped quarters of the bathroom. There was an angled corner shower on one side and a toilet on the other. In the middle was a small counter with a stainless steel sink. Sadie gasped in startled surprise. Bent over the sink with stringy bleached hair hanging in her face and a nose pressed to that counter was a woman. She was extremely skinny and wore a hot pink miniskirt and matching tank top. The skirt was really more of a belt and as she bent over the sink, Sadie cringed at the realization she wore nothing underneath.
The woman (actually girl, because she couldn’t have been more than twenty) looked up and casually wiped a dusting of white from under her nose.
“Wow. Can you, like, see me?” she asked. Her eyes were glassy with huge pupils, confirming she was stoned out of her gourd.
“Yes. Are you dead?” Sadie asked.
“I like to think of it as permanently just ha-a-anging around at the party,” she drawled through a mouth smudged with crimson lipstick. She broke into a bark of laughter that led to a smoker’s coughing jag, then winked at Sadie. “Wanna do a line?”
She pointed to the bathroom countertop and was obviously trying to indicate lines of cocaine that only she could see.
“I’ll pass. I’m working.”
“At what?” The girl giggled. “At being a spaceman? What’s with the getup? You sure don’t look like any of the usual party girls who hang here.”
“I’m Sadie Novak and I’m here to clean a crime scene. Except I can’t find one. Unless you bled out somewhere that I don’t know about?”
“Nope. No blood.” She closed her eyes and her lips formed a dreamy smile. “Just got some Grade A and drifted awa-a-ay.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sadie said sincerely.
“Oh, don’t be sad about it. I’m not. Hell, things are easier now than they’ve ever been in my life. All the Grade A I want and I don’t even have to put out for it. What more could a girl want?”
Um, to be alive?
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Bambi.”
Of course you are.
“How long have you been dead, Bambi?”
She screwed up her face in concentration. “Gee. I’m not sure.” She shrugged. “My old man was pretty shook-up when it happened. He didn’t mean for me to get hold of the good stuff. The stuff they give us workin’ girls is usually cut. He felt bad I got into his pure stuff. I think he even cried. That’s kinda good to see, ya know? The guy treated me like shit mosta the time, so it was good to see he really cared I was gone. He even told ’em to bury me under the monkey tree in Kenmore. Man, I really loved that tree.” Her voice was sad and wistful. “Curly loved me a lot to see I was buried there.”
Pretty pathetic when the measure of how much somebody loves you is where they hide your body.
“Was that the meth lab in Kenmore?” Sadie asked.
“Yeah. I spent some wicked fun time there. Even when the WA had their freaking meetings at night, the place was a fun place to hang out.” She giggled, then grew serious. “Wait a second, did you say your name was Sadie?” She pointed a long hot pink fingernail in Sadie’s face.
“Yes. Sadie Novak. Like I said, I clean crime—”
“I heard about you. You’re the one who pocketed some of Curly’s cash. Man, he’s sure pissed at you.
” She slapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes grew even wider as she spoke from behind her hand. “Wow! You must got a big pair of balls under that jumpsuit to steal from the FF.”
“Wait a second.” Sadie held up a gloved hand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who said I stole from Fierce Force?”
“Well, Curly was talking to some of the boys about it when they met here earlier.” She sniffed and wiped at her nose. “Said some Sadie broad cost them a hundred g’s to the cops and another hundred g’s in her pocket.” She looked at Sadie. “That’s a lot to try and sneak off with. You’re either brave or one stupid bitch.” She tossed back her head and laughed throatily.
Sadie stepped forward, wanting to reach out and grab Bambi’s thin shoulders and shake her.
“The money was in the walls of a house in Kirkland. I had to report it to the cops.”
“Curly said you took a chunk first.” She waggled a finger in Sadie’s face and then shrugged. “Hey, I prolly woulda done the ’xact same thing. A girl’s gotta take care of her future.”
“I’m not a thief,” Sadie said angrily.
“Makes no big diff to me.” She shrugged. “Of course, nobody steals from the FF and lives long anyway. That’s why they asked you to come here. You and I will soon be roomies.”
The heavy heat in the RV was suddenly suffocating.
“It’s a setup,” Sadie said. She let out a whoosh of breath at the realization and then she heard it. The rumble of a motorcycle a lot closer than she would’ve liked.
Sadie bolted down the hall, flung open the door to the RV, and leapt down the steps. She skidded to a stop behind her company van. In front of the Scene-2-Clean vehicle, blocking the only exit off the field, was a motorcycle. A black cherry Harley with flames on the tank. Straddling that bike was the same bearded caveman who’d run her and Jackie off the Kirkland property.
She thought of running, but there was no way a girl in a hazmat suit could outrun a dude on a Harley. The astringent burn in Sadie’s gut gave way to a strident alarm in her head.
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