The Remains of the Dead

by Wendy Roberts

  Sadie smiled into the phone and kept her voice even.

  “Sorry to hear about your separation, Dean, but this isn’t that kind of lunch.” She paused, then added, “Not that any woman wouldn’t be lucky to take you out.”

  She finally managed to convince Detective Petrovich to join her for lunch at Romio’s.

  Petrovich had his partner with him, a short, stubby man he introduced as Detective Sid Alden. Detective Alden was the polar opposite of Petrovich, who was tall, lanky, and good-looking in a hard-edged way.

  “So you’re the twisted gal they call Ms. Blood ’n’ Guts, huh?” Alden asked.

  “I do bio-recovery, yes.” Sadie offered him a tight smile.

  “I got the perfect joke for you, then,” he began. “Why do all suicides have blue eyes?”

  Sadie felt her stomach clench in preparation for his answer.

  “They’ve got blue eyes ’cause one blew this way and the other blew that way.” Alden bellowed and slapped his knee loudly. He failed to notice that nobody joined him. “I’ll pick you up in half an hour, partner,” he said to Petrovich with a wink. “Be good, kids.”

  When he was gone, Petrovich offered an apology on his partner’s behalf.

  “He doesn’t know about, well, you know…your brother and all,” Petrovich said by way of explanation. “He wouldn’t have any idea how inappropriate that was.”

  “It’s all right,” Sadie said.

  Petrovich had worked Brian’s case, and because of that Sadie felt that an undercurrent of trust ran between them.

  They made small talk until Petrovich was halfway done with adding calzone stains to the others on his tie. She ate a slice of her sausage, mushroom, and onion mini pizza before she broached the topic of the Toth house.

  “It was an ugly scene, but, as you know, not our ugliest,” Petrovich said, washing the calzone down with a Diet Coke. “Remember the time we had to call you in to mop up the guy who died in his hot tub?”

  “How could I forget? After cooking in the tub for a week, the guy was black soup,” Sadie said around a mouthful of her pizza. “Back to the Toth house—was there anything that made you think it wasn’t a murder-suicide?”

  “Nope. We did our due diligence. It was by the book. Why?”

  “Sylvia Toth, the mother—she just seems to be having a hard time accepting it.”

  And so does her dead daughter-in-law.

  “Parents of the perp always have a hard time.” He wiped his upper lip with a napkin. “The knife used to kill the wife was cleaned, but it still had trace on it. The rifle he used was still in his hands. There was no forced entry.”

  “And there was gunshot residue?” Sadie asked.

  Petrovich’s jaw hardened. “Why do I get the feeling you’re questioning my ability to do my job?”

  “You’re a great detective, Dean. The best. I’m just a little curious, that’s all.”

  “Well, GSR can be unreliable after a body has sat there a few days like that, but, yeah, GSR on the hand and powder burns at the temple.”

  “Sounds right, then.”

  “Sure, it’s right,” Petrovich said, sitting up a little straighter. “All the evidence pointed to this being a crime of passion. Nothing premeditated here. The husband lost it.”

  He stuffed the rest of his calzone into his mouth, and Sadie could see he was working his mind as he chewed.

  After swallowing, he continued. “The gun and ammo were both processed and found to have his prints, and the spatter pattern was accurate for his sitting on that couch and saying good-bye cruel world.”

  “You did your job and then some,” Sadie said, offering the flattery she knew would get her more than if her questions sounded like criticism.

  “Damn straight,” he agreed. “The only thing that was a little unexpected was the fact that the husband’s bloody yellow running shirt and pants were stuffed in the laundry hamper.”

  Sadie was about to sip her Coke but put it down.

  “You mean Grant killed Trudy and then changed his clothes?”

  “And took a shower. There was blood in the drain.”

  “Huh.” Sadie picked up the can again and drank her soda while she rolled that around in her head.

  “I said it was unexpected, but it’s nothing that sent up red flags or anything,” Petrovich said. “The guy killed his wife in a rage. Then maybe he thought he could cover it up, so he showers, but then, in the end, he can’t live with what he’s done, so he goes back downstairs and puts a gun to his head.”

  Sadie nodded. “Sure.”

  “I even had a guy once who showered, put on clean clothes, went off to work, and stayed at his office all day after he’d slaughtered his entire family in the morning. Even took his boss out for a nice lunch. When he got home that night he took an overdose of sleeping pills.”

  “Wow.” Sadie shook her head in astonishment.

  “And in the Toth case, you put all that evidence together with the fact that Seattle PD had been there for a domestic squabble a week before, and you got yourself a pretty typical murder-suicide.”

  Sadie’s eyebrows rose in question. “Grant smacked her around?”

  “No evidence of that, but the neighbors called it in because they’d heard him screaming at her and throwing things for hours. When our boys showed up, they were patching things up and everything seemed hunky-dory. As a matter of fact, they were in the middle of makeup sex right there on the same sofa the guy killed himself on a week later.”

  Sadie was quiet.

  He pointed to the remains of her pizza. “You gonna eat the rest of that?”

  “Knock yourself out,” Sadie replied.

  They made casual conversation for the rest of their lunch until both of them had to return to work. Sadie took some bills from her wallet and thanked him for his time.

  When she arrived at the Toth house, Zack was already there.

  “I thought you’d be here first thing this morning,” he said with a spark of annoyance.

  Sadie bit her tongue and didn’t remind him that she was the boss and he the employee.

  “I took Petrovich to lunch.”

  Zack raised his eyebrows in question. “And?”

  “And nothing. He did his job.” She shared what the detective had told her about the evidence.

  “He’s crossing the line sharing that information with you,” Zack said. “But maybe now you’ll stop thinking something else happened.”

  “Trudy doesn’t believe it.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but then just shook his head and changed the subject.

  “You should’ve been here earlier. You missed the carpet guy that the restoration company sent.”

  “Damn!” Sadie picked up the business card that had been thrust through the front door mail slot. She had begun to dial the number on her cell when it rang in her hand.

  “Scene-2-Clean,” she answered.

  “Hello, my name’s Jackie. I saw your ad in the Yellow Pages.”

  “Are you in need of our services, Jackie?” Sadie asked softly.

  “No. I’m in need of a job.”

  “We’re not Molly Maid. You know that, right?”

  “Sure.”

  “Did you check out our Web site listed in the ad?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “So you know we do mainly bio-recovery and deal with property that has been contaminated because of a traumatic or unattended death.”

  “Yes, and I’m already trained in crime-scene cleanup through the certification course in Dallas.”

  “You’ve done this work before?”

  “I’ve been working in the biz for close to two years now in Texas, but I’m moving back to Seattle. I’ve already found an apartment, and now I’m looking for work. According to the Yellow Pages it’s either you or Scour Power. I can handle the meth lab cleans too, but I’d rather not.”

  Hmm. Promising.

  “We should talk in person,” Sadie said, barely able to
contain her excitement. They arranged to meet at a Starbucks within an hour.

  “Sounds like she’s got potential,” Zack piped up.

  “Yeah,” Sadie said, nodding thoughtfully. “She’s fully trained, working in the business in Texas, and looking to relocate.”

  “We could use another pair of hands. Maybe then we could expand to take some of the jobs outside of the city.”

  “Exactly. I was hoping to do that just before you started, but my last employee walked out on me at that hot-tub job. I could be wrong, but I’ve got the feeling she isn’t coming back.”

  He laughed.

  “I haven’t renewed my ad in the Times for the last couple of weeks because it just wasn’t generating any serious calls.” She tucked her cell phone back in her purse and looked up. “But she found us. You know, even if she seems perfect, I’d like you to meet with her before she starts.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “You’d have to work with her too, and besides, it won’t hurt for her to see that Scene-2-Clean has a normal person balancing out my craziness. Not that I’d spring my odd talents on her. At least not right away.”

  “Oh, you mean you’re not going to let her walk in on you talking to yourself a dozen times before you tell her what’s going on?” he asked sarcastically.

  “I think I’ll cross that bridge if we get that far.”

  He rubbed the back of his hand across the stubble under his chin.

  “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be considered the normal one.”

  Sadie walked into Starbucks and ordered herself a double-shot low-fat latte, then took it to a small table near the front entrance to watch for Jackie. The face-to-face interview was a must in this line of work. She’d once had a young man sound perfect on the phone, but he’d dressed Goth and had his teeth sharpened to points. It wasn’t that she had a moral problem with his lifestyle; she just knew she’d have to spend way too much time explaining him, so she had to pass.

  Jackie arrived wearing the bright blue Gore-Tex jacket she had described, and her smile showed no hint of vampire dental work. In fact, she looked like a very normal midheight, late-twenties, pretty brunette. Which, of course, begged the question of why a normal woman wasn’t, say, a Realtor, lawyer, or soccer mom instead of a blood ’n’ guts worker.

  They shook hands in greeting and Sadie glanced down at their grip. Jackie was missing two fingers, the ring and pinkie digits on her right hand.

  “It happened a long time ago and it doesn’t interfere with doing my job.” Jackie offered the answer to the unasked question.

  “Fair enough.”

  After Sadie bought Jackie a coffee, they got down to business.

  “You’ve brought references?”

  Jackie handed her a neatly stapled two-page résumé and Sadie took a moment to look it over. She managed to keep her expression bland, but she was pleased by what she read.

  “You’ve been working cleanup in Dallas for two years?”

  “Yes. My boss is great and I enjoy the work. I’ve learned lots.”

  “What’s prompting your move to Seattle?”

  Jackie hesitated. “I moved to Dallas to be with my boyfriend. That relationship ended and I had no other ties there. Seattle’s my home. All of my family’s here. As soon as I land a job, I’m moving the rest of my belongings back here.”

  A perfectly acceptable response. The only things stopping Sadie from hiring Jackie on the spot was the need to check her references and the hope that she wasn’t going to demand an exorbitant paycheck.

  “What brought you into the business?”

  “I’ve worked as a paramedic, so the yuck factor didn’t enter the equation for me. The money’s better.”

  “Let’s talk financial details, then,” Sadie began. “What were they paying you in Texas?”

  The figure Jackie provided was more than she’d hoped.

  “You’d be on a three-month probation period, and that amount’s higher than I usually pay someone when they just start.”

  “Yeah, but if your turnover’s as high here as it is in Dallas, then you rarely give a raise because most people quit long before their probation period ends. I’m coming to you fully trained. When you call to check my references, you’ll hear nothing but good.” She took a sip of her coffee. Her unwavering gaze met Sadie’s. “I’ll break a sweat and give you one hundred percent every single day.”

  Sadie nodded thoughtfully. “Tell me your worst.”

  “Multiple shotgun murder-suicide involving kids,” Jackie said without hesitation. “Yours?”

  “Unattended hot-tub death.”

  “Nasty soup.”

  “Provided your references check out and your criminal record check comes back clean, I’d say we’ve got ourselves a deal.”

  They shook hands across the table.

  “Let me officially welcome you back to Seattle.”

  “It’s a beautiful city.”

  “Hopefully you’ll still be able to say that after you’ve soaked up its blood.”

  8

  Sadie was in a great mood when she arrived home to prepare for her date with Kent, but her frame of mind changed to anxious when she looked in her closet. She knew that Pam would be able to help her out.

  “I feel like a teenager all over again, and not in a good way. What should I wear tonight?”

  “You’re going to that Italian place downtown on Fifth, right?” Pam asked as she sat on Sadie’s bed, leaning back against the headboard.

  “Yes.”

  “Then you want something casually sexy but not too accessible.”

  “I have no idea what that means.”

  “Wear your snug black pants with heels and your lace tank top with the sheer black blouse over it. You’ll look fantastic. Your main job tonight will be to stay dressed.”

  “Very funny, but I find it scary that you know my wardrobe so well.” Sadie went into her closet.

  “Just means it’s time you did some serious clothes shopping.”

  “You’re probably right.”

  “Oh and use your black Guess! clutch purse. It’ll be perfect.”

  Sadie carried the clothes to a corner chair, then stripped and put on the outfit Pam had suggested.

  “You’re right—my black pants are snug. I think I’ll wear the gray ones instead.”

  “The gray ones make you look frumpy. Wear the black.”

  Sadie tried on the gray pants anyway and saw that Pam was right, so she changed back. She angled her head and examined her reflection critically in a full-length mirror. “Good choice.”

  “Yeah, you look hot. Think you can manage your makeup and hair on your own?”

  Once Sadie assured her friend she wasn’t a total failure in that department, Pam left. Sadie carefully applied makeup and dabbed on a little perfume.

  “Now what?” she murmured, glancing at the clock and seeing that she was ahead of schedule. “Nothing says desperate like showing up half an hour early.”

  Sadie walked to the living room and sat on her sofa, channel-surfing and trying to fend off Hairy, who sensed it was a good moment to cover her in rabbit fur. She watched part of a sitcom without really seeing it at all, and finally, when she knew she’d be arriving at just past seven o’clock, she locked up her house and walked to her car.

  On the drive over she practiced casual conversation, small talk, and how to casually bring up Kent’s so-called long-ended affair with Trudy.

  When Christian instead of Kent met her at the restaurant, she knew she was in trouble. So much for thoughts of a romantic dinner date.

  “My brother sends his apologies. He was showing some buyers houses and now he’s stuck in a traffic snarl on the I-5.”

  “Oh.” Great. Just great.

  “I’ve been told to get you settled with a strong drink. Kent will be here any second. Here, let me take your coat.”

  For a second Sadie considered bolting out the door she’d just walked through, bu
t instead she let him awkwardly fumble with her long trench coat and his own leather jacket. With some effort he got them onto the overstuffed rack near the door.

  “Um, you know what—you don’t need to do this. Really. I’ll just go, and Kent and I can have dinner another time,” Sadie said.

  “No way. I was only a block from here, on my way to work, so it’s no trouble at all. My pleasure. Plus Kent will kill me if I let you get away,” Christian said, grinning warmly.

  Sadie offered him her best okay-I’ll-be-a-good-sport smile. With as much courage as she could muster under the circumstances, she followed the hostess to a cozy corner table.

  “When Kent told me how you two met, I thought he was joking,” Christian said. “Good thing you don’t carry a gun on the job or you might have shot him.”

  He had Kent’s hundred-watt smile, and when he turned it on Sadie relaxed just a bit. He was probably in his late twenties, and you could tell he had a way with women. It was a safe bet, that that smile had been used to weaken the knees of dozens of females already.

  “I guess it was pretty strange, considering I thought he was a—” She stopped herself short of saying “ghost” and said, “Burglar.”

  “Oh, Kent’s practically a saint. He’s never so much as had a traffic ticket.” Christian laughed throatily. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re the best-looking date he’s ever had.”

  Sadie laughed in return. “You’ve got his charm.”

  There was an awkward pause. They sipped their drinks and Sadie stole a glance at her watch. The seconds were ticking slowly just past seven fifteen.

  Christian tunneled his fingers through his hair and his face grew serious. “You have a very, um, unusual job.”

  “Yes.”

  “Cleaning up Trudy and Grant’s home…that must have been awful.”

  “You can look at it that way, but as I see it, I perform a service so that families of victims aren’t traumatized twice.”

  He nodded and stared at her intently. Sadie felt like a bug under a microscope and changed the subject.

  “What do you do, Christian?”

  “Our uncle Ned runs a janitorial service. I work for him. It’s mostly night work.” He glanced at his watch. “And if Kent doesn’t get here soon I’m going to be late.”