“And then you called Zack and begged him to come home?” Maeva asked.
“No.”
“Then why is his Mustang in the driveway?”
“He came to pick up his things,” Sadie said, keeping her voice even.
Maeva tilted her head. “So then where is he? Packing?”
“Showering.”
“He came to pack his stuff and leave you but then decided to have a shower.” Maeva waggled a finger in Sadie’s face and Osbert blew a spit bubble at his mom. “I get it. Makeup sex.”
“No.” I wish.
“Then what? You just gave him one for the road?”
Sadie rolled her eyes. “Of course not.”
“Are you sure you didn’t just give him something to remember you by?”
Zack walked into the room, wearing nothing but a towel.
“She did give me something to remember her by,” he growled. “She gave me a face full of pepper spray.”
“You pepper sprayed him?” Maeva covered her mouth and stifled her laughter. “That’s a little extreme, dontcha think?”
“I thought he was a finger-chopping maniac,” Sadie said, bouncing Osbert on her knee. “Excuse me if I’m a little edgy after almost getting eaten alive by a closet last night.”
“Eaten? By a closet?” Zack shook his head ruefully. The look on his face said he wasn’t going to miss this craziness. He slammed the bottle of dish soap onto the counter next to the sink. “I don’t even want to know.”
Zack poured himself a cup of coffee, then stormed out of the kitchen.
Sadie sighed and rubbed Osbert’s back.
“You need to eat,” Maeva announced.
She got up and made them each a piece of toast and talked small talk to pass the time until Zack returned to the kitchen; then she excused herself on the pretense of using the washroom.
“I’m still working in Portland until I hear whether or not I’ve got the job today.” He took out his key chain, then slid Sadie’s house key off the ring and placed it on the kitchen table. He lowered his voice and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Look, once I get settled back in Seattle with a full-time job and a place of my own, I’ll call. Maybe we can start from scratch. You know . . . dating.”
She’d heard those words before, but now Sadie leaned into the hand resting on her shoulder and bit her lower lip. “I . . . I don’t want you to go.”
He pulled his hand away and sighed. “I’m no good right now. I know it’s been a few months since I’ve been home from rehab but, right now, it’s a constant battle not to slip up again. You understand, right?”
Sadie placed Osbert against her shoulder and refused to look up to meet Zack’s gaze.
“I’m going to miss you.”
She blinked away tears. Zack kissed the top of her head and left. Once the front door was closed, Maeva returned to the kitchen to find Sadie holding Osbert’s face up to hers.
“Promise me you won’t grow up to be an asshole,” Sadie said, her lower lip quivering.
“Oh, Zack isn’t an ass,” Maeva remarked quietly as she took her seat at the table. “He’s just a confused fool.”
“I don’t think I want to talk about it,” Sadie sniffed. “I just want to forget all about Zack Bowman for a while.”
She got up from her chair and refilled her mug.
“Fine. Let’s talk about what happened at the house last night and why some demon has a thing for you.”
“Let’s not talk about that either.”
Sadie was saved by the ring of her office phone, and she pushed a reluctant Osbert into his mother’s arms and took off down the hall where she snatched up the receiver with a breathless “Scene-2-Clean. How may I help you?”
“This is Bev calling from the Pacifica,” said a smooth, authoritative female voice. “We spoke the other day.”
“Right. Hello, Bev. Thanks for getting in touch with me.” Sadie silently fist-pumped the air. “I presume the Seattle police have finished collecting evidence and you require my services to clean up the room at your hotel?”
“Yes. I hope you don’t mind, but I called Herbert Sylvane to check your references.”
“I’m glad you did.” Sadie was thrilled she talked to Herbert. It always made things smoother for her if a client was reassured by a previous client; although, admittedly, word of mouth was not big in the crime cleanup business.
“Well, Herb’s a longtime colleague so I trust his judgment,” Bev stated. “I’m sure I don’t need to impress upon you that discretion is most important. I don’t want guests of the Pacifica to know what you’re doing in the room, and I want you to be done as quickly as possible.”
“Of course,” Sadie reassured in her best business voice. “I’ll show up with my some of my supplies in suitcases. I have a company van that I can park in the back of the hotel in your delivery area, and it would work well if you can get a porter to bring in some of my larger bins into the hotel in a laundry cart or some such and deliver them to the adjoining room.” Sadie paused. “Is there a connecting room to the crime scene? If not, the room next to it would be fine.”
“Yes, there is an adjoining room,” Bev confirmed. “How quickly can you be done?”
“I can’t say for certain until I see the scene for myself,” Sadie said. “But I was able to thoroughly process the room at the Eminence within twenty-four hours; however, I did have to leave an ozone generator running for a couple more days to ensure the air was cleaned of odors. You should know that items I can’t clean, such as carpeting or mattresses, I will have to dispose of as hazardous waste, and that means there will most likely be further repairs once I’ve completed the cleaning.”
“I’ll line up the necessary workers just in case. So you’ll start today?”
“I’ll be there within the hour.” Sadie couldn’t wait to obliterate thoughts of Zack and closets from her mind. “You can help by e-mailing me the information regarding the hotel’s insurance company so that I can process payment through them. Anytime I forward communication to the insurance company, you’ll also receive a copy so that you’ll be kept in the loop.”
When they ended the call, Sadie practically skipped back to the kitchen, where she found Maeva nursing the ever-hungry Osbert.
“You look happy,” Maeva remarked.
“I am.” Sadie grinned. “I have a nice, bloody murder scene to clean.” She sighed. “See? Things are already looking up.”
“Blood. Right. We should practically throw a party,” Maeva added sarcastically.
“It’s work and I need the work. At this rate, I can make my mortgage payment without Zack’s help.”
Osbert unlatched his lips from his mother, craned his neck to look at Sadie, and began to sob.
“I think I’d rather pay you to be my nanny,” Maeva said, placing Osbert on her shoulder.
“You can’t afford me,” Sadie quipped, then ran off down the hall to shower and change.
***
An hour later Sadie pulled the Scene-2-Clean van up to the rear delivery entrance of the Hotel Pacifica. She was dressed in business attire, as she had been when entering the Eminence Bay Hotel, so as not to attract unnecessary attention from guests.
Her cell phone rang just as she was climbing out of her van. It was Gayla Woods.
“I hear things didn’t go well with the séance last night,” Gayla said in her calm, throaty voice. “I hope you weren’t hurt.”
Sadie was immediately annoyed that the Thingvolds had shared the experience, but she reminded herself that Gayla had hired them all to do a job.
“Only my pride,” Sadie said. “I don’t know what to suggest regarding the goings-on in that house, but I’m sure that Rosemary and Rick have an idea or two
.”
Sadie pushed open the rear door of her large van, rolling it upward to access her equipment.
“I have a few suggestions of my own,” Gayla said. “I was hoping you and I could meet for coffee to discuss them.”
“You’d be better off arranging things with Madam Maeva’s psychics. I know things didn’t go the way you planned, so it might be better if I just leave the situation, regardless of your generous offer.” Sadie tried to be firm. She wanted nothing more to do with Halladay Street and its closet.
“Still, I’d still like the opportunity to meet and run some ideas by you.”
Sadie sighed. The woman was pushy.
“Sorry, but I’m at a job right now so I can’t chat.”
“Okay. Owen tells me he gave you our house key. The contractor and Rosemary have our other spares, so I’ll need to get that one back from you. What time would be good to meet? I’ll get the key and we can talk briefly at the same time.”
“Well . . . I guess I could meet you in the bar at the Hotel Pacifica around six,” Sadie suggested, figuring she’d be more than ready for a break by then.
Gayla agreed on the time and place. Sadie disconnected the call and heaved her suitcase out of the back of the van. Instead of fine designer clothing, her suitcase contained hazmat gear. The guests at the Pacifica wouldn’t suspect a thing.
Following Bev’s instruction, Sadie entered the loading area and requested the assistance of hotel personnel. They unloaded Sadie’s larger supplies and knew to bring them up to the adjoining room on the fourth floor of the hotel. Once they were on their way, Sadie locked up her van and headed around the red brick building toward the front entrance, rolling her suitcase behind her.
The iconic Hotel Pacifica was a historic landmark with seventy-six European-style guest rooms, old-world charm, and a lounge bar that made a martini so dirty Sadie would need her hazmat suit just to order one.
When she walked through the front doors Sadie did not spend time admiring the antiques in the lobby and, instead, she smiled politely at the front desk staff, then quietly gave them her name and asked for Bev Hummel.
Sadie was directed to the opposite side of the lobby and down a short hall. Just as she was about to knock at the door labeled clearly with Bev Hummel’s name, the door swung open and out walked Herbert Sylvane.
“Oh! Hello!” The manager of the Eminence Hotel looked completely taken aback by Sadie’s presence.
“Hi,” Sadie replied with a bright smile.
“Thanks for everything, Bev,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s do lunch soon.”
He hustled away down the hall, and Sadie poked her head inside the office.
“Ms. Hummel?” Sadie said in a tone that faltered just a little after having been startled by seeing Herbert.
“Come in, come in!” she called, waving her over to the desk.
Bev Hummel was exactly how Sadie had pictured her on the phone. She was the other side of fifty with gray frosting her temples and otherwise dark hair. She smiled at Sadie but her eyes and the gray wool suit she wore both said she was a serious woman and the smile was automatic politeness.
Sadie reached across the massive mahogany desk and shook her hand.
“I guess you saw Herbie on your way out?”
Herbie? Seriously?
“Um. Mr. Sylvane? Yes.”
“Sit.” Bev indicated a stiff-backed chair that looked just about as comfy as the stilettos Sadie wore only once.
“The hotel business is surprisingly tight-knit. When I called to check your references we got to talking about other hotels we’ve worked at. Our paths have crossed frequently over the years.” She smiled warmly. “He’s dealt with serious security issues in hotels before, so I decided to invite him here so I could pick his brain, so to speak, and compare notes on how to make things safer.”
“I’m sure you both find it concerning that these women were killed at your hotels,” Sadie responded. She wanted to tell her that no amount of beefing up security would stop someone from cutting up a hooker in their room, but she didn’t go there. People needed to believe that they had control over these kinds of things when, usually, they didn’t.
“Thanks for your quick e-mail,” Sadie added. “I’ve already contacted the insurance head office and will send them photos as well as my estimate as soon as I get an idea of what exactly we’re dealing with. Speaking of that, I should probably just head upstairs.” Sadie looked pointedly at her watch. “Your staff will have already brought up my equipment from my vehicle. I know you want this completed as soon as possible, so if I can get the room key from you, I’ll get started.”
“Of course.” Bev opened her desk drawer and handed Sadie two slim key cards. “I’ve taken the liberty of having your room stocked with refreshments.”
Sadie thanked her and then made her way back across the ornate lobby, rolling her suitcase behind her. The elevator was small and slow but Sadie took a moment to get herself in the right frame of mind. She was walking into a bloodbath and, although this was her bread and butter, she still needed to be mentally prepared.
Once inside the cozy room that connected to the crime scene, Sadie admired the plush duvets and heavy ornate draperies. A little much for her taste, but Sadie could be comfy here for the night. If ever money was no object. She glanced at the corner table that was heavily laden with the refreshments the manager had mentioned. Bev had arranged for a fine array of fresh fruit and finger sandwiches along with bottled water and a massive carafe of coffee. Although briefly considering it, Sadie knew it wasn’t wise to give in and take a coffee break before actually doing any work.
The hotel staff had delivered a heaping stack of her gear and piled the bins, ozone generator and cleaning supplies in one corner. Sadie went over to the pile and checked to make sure she had everything she’d probably require.
The first thing Sadie needed to do was to take photos of the scene for files and for the insurance company. She slipped her suitcase onto the bed and pulled out her hazmat gear and comfortable sweats and T-shirt. Once dressed from the top of her head (respirator) to the tips of her toes (shoe covers), Sadie snagged her camera and slid back the dead bolt that separated the room she was in from the crime scene beyond.
In addition to being mentally primed for the homicidal carnage inside, Sadie was also prepared for the likely possibility there would be a female ghost missing her finger. Even with all that emotional readiness, Sadie was staggered by what greeted her when she walked inside.
Welcoming Sadie were three female ghosts. One fully clothed and two naked and in various forms of decay and dismemberment.
Chapter 8
Sadie ignored them. Not easy to do when you have a couple of excited, naked women vying for your attention. Even though they were dead, they were very much in Sadie’s face, and there were some things you just couldn’t unsee once they were burned into your retinas. Silicone-enhanced breasts covered in blood was one of those things.
Sadie snapped the photos of the massacre that she needed for her records and to send off to the hotel’s insurance company. She surveyed the scene as a person well trained in disinfecting blood-borne pathogens. There was considerable damage caused by the substantial amount of blood. She realized immediately she was bound to be short on supplies, and her mind went to work calculating all that would be required. Not long ago she would’ve had at least two other Scene-2-Clean employees helping her on a scene like this one. Now, thanks to the economy and Zack, she was flying solo.
Absently, she shooed flies away from her respirator as she worked. A fly can smell dead flesh from over a mile away and one fly can lay about fifty eggs, which hatch within twenty-four hours. Those hungry maggots were writhing and wriggling at a buffet of blood soup at Sadie’s feet. Soon they’d end their lives in her vacuum bag.
Once she had the photos she needed, there was an overwhelming sense of the job that lay ahead of her. The physical sweat would be difficult but the emotional toil of dealing with multiple ghosts was bound to be draining. She’d have to reach inside for the tricks she once used to control a classroom as a primary school teacher. Except a couple of these students had bits of flesh hanging off them and were naked.
Sadie headed back into the other room, assigned as her safe zone. She doffed her gear and poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe. Then she called Detective Petrovich.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me there were multiple victims at the Pacifica!” Sadie said, exasperated.
“Who told you that?”
“Nobody told me.” She sipped her coffee. “I know it’s easier if you just pretend I don’t do anything beyond crime-scene cleanup, and Lord knows it’s easier on me that way too, so let’s just say a little birdie told me.”
He paused. “I can’t talk about a scene with you, but why don’t you tell me what you know.”
“What I know is there are three women in that room and a helluva lot of blood.”
“Three? You’re sure?” he barked.
“Unless there was someone under the bed or in the closet, then yes, I’m pretty damn sure the magic number is three,” Sadie snapped in return. She rubbed the back of her neck as the reality of Petrovich’s question sunk in. “You didn’t find three bodies, did you?”
“No.” She could hear the frustration and lack of sleep in his voice. “There were two.”
“Either one of them belong to the finger on my windshield?” Sadie asked.
“DNA is being rushed but it’s still got a couple weeks to go. The room was a bloodbath.”
“You’re telling me?” Sadie remarked dryly. “I get the job of mopping it up.”
“I’m just saying we took samples everywhere.”
“So you found two girls and I’m expecting you’ll come back with three types of DNA. You want I should go in and ask the girls what their blood type is? Would that help?”
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