The Remains of the Dead

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The Remains of the Dead Page 19

by Wendy Roberts


  “You must’ve been angry.”

  “Furious. I wanted to tell Grant about it, but I knew it would kill him.” She smiled sadly at the irony of that. “Trudy begged me not to say anything. At first I said there was no way I’d lie to my own nephew, but then I agreed to keep it quiet as long as she promised to end the affair immediately. She said she would.”

  She took a last drag on her smoke, then walked over to grind it into a nearby pillar ashtray.

  “So she broke it off?” Sadie shouted over another gust of wind that blew forcefully across the terrace.

  “She promised that it was over. I have to admit that I didn’t believe her right away, but then a small package was couriered to the house. I signed for it, since she was out. When I saw it had a Seattle return address, I was curious, so I opened it and peeked inside. It was a beautiful emerald pendant. There was no note. She never knew I opened it, but when I asked about the package, Trudy said it was a good-bye gift.”

  “Don’t you think that’s kind of a strange gift to give to a married woman, since she would have trouble explaining it?” Sadie commented.

  “Yes, I sure did, but Trudy was adamant that she’d ended the affair. I assumed that she either returned the necklace or sold it, because I never saw it after that.” Janet stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “I thought that was the end of it.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  “Yes and no. A few weeks later she came to me extremely upset. She was pregnant and she didn’t think the baby was Grant’s.”

  “Wow!” Sadie blinked in surprise. “That must’ve been hard.”

  “Yes. I tried to convince her to have the baby. I knew Grant loved kids and always wanted a houseful. He would’ve been thrilled and Sylvia would’ve been over the moon. Although I’m not a fanatic, I’m not pro-choice either. Abortion just seemed wrong.”

  “And Trudy wanted to end the pregnancy?”

  “Yes. She didn’t think there was any other way. She had the procedure done and Grant never knew.”

  “All this time, do you think Grant ever suspected Trudy was having an affair?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “At least not while they lived in my house. Grant was working his ass off to get that new store up and running and self-sufficient so they could return to Seattle and buy the house she wanted. He was constantly reassuring her that it wouldn’t be too much longer.” Janet shook her head. “Maybe if it had taken longer, things would’ve been better. I think when they moved back to Seattle, Trudy hooked up with that guy again and this time Grant found out. I’m sure it drove him to do what he did.”

  “You seem pretty sure he killed Trudy and himself.”

  “You’d never get Sylvia to admit Grant was capable of such a thing. That’s why I don’t want you messing with her head.” She looked pointedly at Sadie. “But when a man loves a woman as much as Grant loved Trudy, I don’t think he can imagine living without her. He was obsessed. It would’ve killed him to think she’d leave him for someone else.”

  “A man with nothing left to lose is a man capable of anything,” Sadie remarked sadly.

  Janet only nodded.

  “Sylvia doesn’t need the heartache you’re offering her,” she said. “She doesn’t need to fill her head with your pie-in-the-sky hope that things happened differently.”

  “But if things did happen differently, wouldn’t it give her comfort?”

  “A mother just buried her son, her daughter-in-law, and all of her hopes and dreams. I’m the only family she has left in this world. Nothing you uncover will ever change that, will it?”

  “No, but—”

  She held up a hand to stop further discussion.

  “I’ve said my piece. I ask that you keep our conversation in confidence and stay away from my sister and let her grieve.”

  Sadie sat in the hospital parking lot, her head resting on the steering wheel of her car.

  “Let it go. Let it go,” she mumbled to herself like a mantra. “You clean up after the dead. No more. No less. You have no business playing detective.”

  Maybe it was time to take a couple of days off. Even just an afternoon would be great. She still had that gift certificate for a full-body massage that her mother had given her for her birthday. As she turned left on Madison, she realized she could be at the day spa in five minutes.

  Buoyed by the idea of spending a couple of hours in a state of self-indulgent bliss, Sadie could feel her body begin to unwind. Even the jerk hugging her bumper couldn’t get her riled.

  She glared in her rearview mirror and punched the accelerator as she turned onto First Avenue. She was relieved to see the small green car get left behind a slow-moving dump truck. Her grip tightened on the wheel when she thought of the green Toyota whose driver had sprayed her house with bullets.

  “There are a thousand green Toyotas in Seattle,” she reminded herself. “You can’t freak out every time you see a small green car.” But her grip didn’t relax until she pulled into the spa’s lot and made sure that a green car wasn’t anywhere nearby.

  Stepping through the doors of the spa was like walking into a blissful sanctuary of soothing music, waterfalls, and aromatherapy candles.

  Sadie took a deep, cleansing breath and exhaled it slowly as she floated up to the reception desk. She was greeted warmly by an angelic figure in white.

  “Welcome. What service do you have an appointment for today?” she asked, her voice as calm and soothing as the surroundings.

  “No appointment, but I was hoping for a full-body massage.”

  “Of course.” The young woman tapped her keyboard, glanced at the screen, then looked back up at Sadie. “We’ve had a cancellation, and I can fit you in a week from tomorrow at eight in the morning.”

  “A week?” Sadie struggled to keep the whine from her voice. “Nothing today?”

  “No and a week from now is good. Often our massage packages are booked a month in advance.”

  With an exhale of frustration, Sadie halfheartedly agreed to the appointment, then shuffled back to the parking lot. She was a foot from her car when a sharp retort sounded and a spray of pavement dusted her shoes. She looked down in surprise for a split second before she realized she’d narrowly missed being shot.

  Bolting to her vehicle, she tore open the door and huddled low on her seat, fumbling to get her keys. A shadow fell across her car and she was sure it was the shooter, who would blow her head off at close range. However, the sound of a motor caused her to glance up. A large linen supply truck had pulled up right next to her car. The driver hopped out his door, rolled up the back of the truck, unloaded supplies onto a dolly, and headed for the spa.

  Without thinking, Sadie slowly opened her door and, staying low, opened the passenger door of the truck, climbed inside, and gently closed the door behind her. Crawling on her knees, she made her way to the back and hunkered down between bins of dirty laundry. The driver was back in seconds. He slammed down the rolling back door and climbed behind the wheel. Sadie didn’t let him know she was there for fear he’d run the truck up a pole. When he made his next stop, at a medical clinic two miles away, Sadie casually hopped out of the truck after looking in all possible directions for gun-wielding assassins.

  Fumbling with her cell phone, she dialed Zack.

  “I need you to come get me,” she said. “And, if you don’t mind, bring your gun.”

  Only a few minutes passed before Zack showed up. He found her sitting with her back against the wall and watching the door in a far corner of a Subway sandwich shop.

  “Spill it,” he ordered, grabbing her by the elbow and walking her to his car

  She told him everything and swiped tears from her eyes.

  “Don’t suppose you got the plate number for this green car?”

  “No,” she admitted, feeling foolish. She sipped some soda and blinked back fresh tears.

  They went back to the spa, and Zack circled the lot more than once before pulling up alongs
ide her vehicle.

  “Stay,” he ordered, flinging open his door and walking around her car. He peered inside and under and finally announced it looked sound.

  “Are you okay to drive?”

  She nodded, not knowing if she’d ever truly feel okay again.

  “I’ll follow you.”

  The excitement wasn’t over yet. As soon as she pulled onto her street she could hear the noise of her house alarm, screeching wildly. An SPD car was just pulling up to her driveway. Sadie was certain that pretty soon the neighbors would take up a petition to put her on a dinghy and float her out to sea.

  The officers had obviously heard of the drive-by shooting at her house, because they weren’t treating this like a routine alarm call. Their weapons were drawn and they were quickly circling the residence.

  Once the perimeter was checked, Sadie handed over her keys. While her heart thumped like a hammer in her chest, the cops, joined by Zack, searched the inside of her house. They determined that there was no sign of forced entry and no bogeymen were hiding in closets or under beds.

  Sadie punched in the code to stop the shriek of the alarm.

  “Your system has a sensitive motion detector. If you set it to indicate you’re going out, it’ll go off if someone’s moving around inside,” an officer explained.

  “Someone broke in?” Zack asked.

  “We think it was most likely your little fuzzy friend.” He nodded and Sadie followed his gaze to see Hairy hop by.

  “Oh my God, my rabbit set off my alarm?” She laughed in relief.

  “It happens all the time,” the officer admitted. “Well, it’s usually cats or dogs, not bunnies, but the end result is the same. There’s a way to set your alarm to ignore smaller movements. You need to check your manual or call your alarm company.”

  “I will.”

  Zack walked the officers outside, and no doubt filled them in on what had happened at the spa. Sadie’s ears were still ringing from the raucous sound of her alarm.

  When Zack returned, he said, “Petrovich will be by in a few minutes. I’ll stay until he gets here.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t need to stay.”

  “I should,” he insisted. “Jackie can wait.”

  “You set up a time to meet with her?”

  “Yeah, but we can postpone. It’s no big deal.”

  “You should go. I’ll be fine. Like you said, Petrovich will be here in a few minutes. Don’t forget, I’ve got my alarm system and my attack bunny to keep me safe.”

  He hesitated, but at her insistence he finally left. Sadie walked down the hall to her office. There was one phone message on her machine and she hit PLAY.

  “Sadie, it’s Egan. Call me.”

  David Egan owned and operated Scour Power, another Seattle niche cleaning company. They didn’t compete for business, but instead shared Seattle’s misfortune. Sadie chose to handle the clean of death while Egan’s business took care of methamphetamine lab cleanup, marijuana grow-ops, and tidying up non-crime-related squalor.

  Egan must’ve recognized Sadie’s number on his phone’s incoming display, because he answered instantly.

  “Hey, Twisted Sister. Long time no chat.”

  “How’s biz?” Sadie asked.

  “Well, you know, the world’s a dump. I’m handling a tunnel house right now and there are rats the size of my dog helping me out.”

  Sadie shuddered. Tunnel houses were what they called the type of human squalor where the person lived in a home shoulder high in clutter and trash that had pathways or tunnels leading from room to room. It still shocked Sadie to realize people actually lived that way.

  “You can keep your tunnels,” Sadie said with a chuckle.

  “And you can keep your brain spatter,” he countered. “Which is why I’m calling. I got a call a couple hours ago from some lady needing a suicide clean.”

  It happened occasionally that someone would look through the Yellow Pages and call Scour Power instead of Scene-2-Clean if they didn’t read the fine print of what the company handled. When that happened, usually David and Sadie just redirected the client to the correct company.

  “So you told her to call me?” Sadie asked, wondering what was so unusual about this job that required David to call instead of just giving the lady the correct number.

  “Actually, I told her I’d call you myself and give you the message.”

  “Why? Is there something special about this clean?”

  “Not really. Her son cut his wrists in the bathtub.”

  “So why do I have the pleasure of your personal call? This isn’t a friend or family, is it?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He paused. “You know I don’t wanna be cleaning your bloody jobs, Sadie.”

  “And I’m fine letting you handle your disasters.” She could feel the big but coming.

  “But here’s the thing—” He sucked in a breath, then let it out. “The woman said she was referred to me by SPD.”

  “The cops told her to call you instead of me? Huh. Guess they made a mistake.” Sadie tightened her grip on the phone.

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  After a moment to collect her thoughts, Sadie confronted it head-on.

  “Look, the two of us have been cleaning the Emerald City for years now, Egan. Anything you’ve heard that hints that I’m less than honest is flat-out wrong.”

  “Yeah, I know that,” he said emphatically. “Hell, I’d let you mop up after my own next of kin even if their rotting corpses were covered in diamonds, ’cause I know you’d personally shine each and every rock with care before leaving them for me.”

  Not exactly a pretty visual, but Sadie appreciated the sentiment behind it.

  “Thanks.”

  “The thing is, man, you’ve got to somehow convince SPD of that. If they’re afraid to send the biz your way, well, what choice will I have but to step up to the plate? Neither of us wants that.”

  David Egan passed along the name and number of the woman who needed the work.

  “Thanks for the heads-up about the SPD,” Sadie said sincerely. “I appreciate it.”

  “Forget appreciation. Just fix it.”

  “I will,” she promised before disconnecting.

  Sadie got up from her desk, downed the last drops from her coffee mug, then threw it against the wall with such force that it exploded in a thousand tiny shards.

  15

  Sadie called Shawna Stuart about the call she’d made to Scour Power.

  “Mr. Egan said he’d get you to call me,” she said. “He said that you specialize in this…” She swallowed. “What we need done. So you do this kind of cleaning regularly?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Sadie said. She knew the woman would find little comfort in hearing that her son’s method of ending his life was one of the most common. “I can come over now, if that’s convenient,” Sadie offered gently.

  Shawna gave her the address, and as Sadie prepared to leave, Detective Petrovich banged on her door.

  “I’m on my way to a job.”

  “After you tell me about the sniper taking shots at you,” he corrected.

  She shrugged. “A small green car was on my bumper shortly after I left Pill Hill this morning and I thought I lost him when I cornered onto First. When I came out of my destination on First, somebody took a shot at me as I walked to my car.”

  “And you took an unexpected ride in a linen delivery van,” he said, a smile coaxing the corners of his mouth. “Smart move.”

  “Yeah, well, I live to scrub another day,” she replied tiredly. “So there you have it. Now you tell me Kent Lasko is skiing, so I got nobody else to point the finger at, but I’m getting tired of dodging bullets. If this guy was a half-decent shot, Zack would be cleaning up his boss’s blood.”

  “I’ve got the local boys taking a drive by your place on a regular basis.”

  “Great. I’ll be safe as long as they don’t get another call at the same time the shooter happens to b
e ringing my doorbell.”

  “It’s the best I can do. I told Zack you’d be safer staying with him.”

  She glared at him. “You had no right.”

  He shrugged. “Then find someone else whose life you’d risk while bunking with them.”

  “I’ve got to go.” She brushed him off and was soon parking the company truck at the curb in front of a six-story concrete housing project.

  Zack called her just as she was preparing her equipment to take it into the building.

  “I just wanted to let you know that the Yenkow place is done. I pulled the ionizer, and the restoration company finished the flooring today,” Zack said.

  “Thanks for taking care of that,” she mumbled, checking for supplies like hazmat gear, cleaners, brushes, and bins.

  “You sound like you’re in a cave,” Zack said. “Or in the back of the van. Are you on a job?”

  “Yeah. It’s a new call,” Sadie said. “A slice and soak. No worries. I can handle it on my own.”

  “You should be at home. Scratch that. You should be at my place.”

  “Forget it. I’ve got work to do.”

  “Then I’ll come and help.”

  “By the looks of this building I’m guessing no insurance and no money. There’s no sense in both of us donating our time.”

  “So you’re just going to eat the loss?”

  “Probably.” Sadie didn’t like to work for free, but there was no way she would walk away from the job and leave a mom to clean up her own son’s blood.

 

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