It gave her a reason to turn off the computer and focus on getting ready for their dinner instead of on the Toths. She changed into dark pants and a gray sweater. After applying some blush and lipstick, she felt human.
John turned out to be a nice enough guy. Certainly not Sadie’s type, but he looked at Dawn like she was the best thing since biscotti met coffee, and Dawn seemed to reflect the same sentiments. They enjoyed their meals at a small Asian restaurant where John ordered for everyone. Sadie thought that was a little arrogant, but even she had to admit that he made great choices—she’d have to run twenty miles to burn off all the calories she consumed.
Sadie left them to enjoy dessert alone while gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. John had turned down her offer to pay, not even allowing her to leave the tip.
On her drive back home, Sadie passed one of the numerous local parks where joggers wound up and down paths and between trees, oblivious to the rain. She slowed to a stop at a crosswalk and two women jogged in front of her car, the reflective bands on their jogging gear glinting in the glow of streetlamps and car headlights.
As much as she tried to keep the thought from her head, every man she saw reminded her of Kent Lasko, all geared up to murder his lover and her husband.
She found herself desperately wanting to break into his house and search his dresser for the matching shorts. Obviously that would not be a great career move, since she would undoubtedly be caught either by the police and end up in jail or by Kent and end up dead.
She realized that just because the bloody shirt in the hamper was a yellow Run-Tec, that didn’t prove Kent owned the exact same shirt.
“Forget it,” she admonished herself out loud. “Think of something else.”
An older, overweight man passed Sadie’s car, walking his dog on the sidewalk. He reminded her a lot of her uncle Larry. Suddenly she knew exactly who would possibly know about Kent’s jogging wear, and she couldn’t resist cranking the steering wheel to turn her car around.
Her first stop was Ralph’s Meats. He had the best garlic sausage in the Emerald City. She bought an entire coil of the good stuff, plus a large wedge of Gorgonzola.
Zack called her as she was steering her car into the Laskos’ neighborhood.
“Just wanted to give you a heads-up that the police are on the scene of multiple gunshot victims found in Magnolia,” he said.
“It’ll take them a few days to work the scene, but we’ll no doubt get the call—that is, if they’re still willing to refer business to us,” she said dryly.
“They will,” he said with more confidence than she felt. “What are you up to?”
“Just some final checking into a few details on a little matter,” she said vaguely.
“But you’re not playing detective, right?”
“Nope,” she said. “I just got tired of hiding out at home. I went to the store for sausage and Gorgonzola.”
“That stuff’ll kill you.”
“Yeah, but I’m back jogging, so I can handle it. Gotta go.”
Sadie parked her car one block down and half a block over from the Lasko residence. She grabbed a Mariners baseball cap she kept in the trunk and yanked it down on her head, then walked up the street in the misty drizzle carrying her bag of goodies.
She knew she was taking a risk. Kent or Christian could come driving down the street at any moment and spot her—but it was dark, she was wearing dark clothing, and she was betting they wouldn’t expect to see her hoofing it up their street alone.
A squirrel darted out of a spruce tree and cut quickly across her path, and Sadie thought her heart would fly out of her chest. She made a few promises to God and the saints and then turned to walk up the sidewalk that led to the house belonging to Kent Lasko’s nosy neighbor.
She rang the bell, and an eerie feeling crept over her when she realized she was probably being appraised through the peephole in the door. Finally the door opened a crack, and he spoke to her from behind the chain.
“What do you want? Tired of peeping in my neighbor’s window?”
“Actually I’m here to see you, Mr. um…”
“Eckert. Rudy Eckert. What do you want?”
“Well, Mr. Eckert, I’ve been trying to put together a block watch committee for our neighborhood, and it’s not been going that great. Then I remembered what you said about being the captain of your block watch, so I figured you’d be the perfect person to help me out.”
There was a pause; she wondered whether Mr. Eckert bought her excuse.
“Hang on,” he said and closed the door.
A minute later he reappeared.
“Everything you want to know about the program you’ll find in here.” He thrust a glossy brochure through the crack in the door.
Sadie took it and looked it over. It was a pamphlet on the Seattle Block Watch program.
“This is great, but I’ve already got this information. What I was hoping for was some one-on-one time with a successful block captain like yourself.”
“Why should I miss watching American Idol to talk to you?”
Time to pull out the big artillery.
“I brought garlic sausage and Gorgonzola.”
He closed the door, unhooked the chain, and opened it wide.
“Come on in.”
Sadie had never met an old man who could resist smelly meat and moldy cheese.
Mr. Eckert wasn’t going to win any awards for housekeeping. She was betting that Mrs. Eckert had either passed on or given up. He led her into the kitchen, snatched the bag from her hands, and dumped the cheese and sausage on the counter.
Sadie lifted a stack of newspapers from a chair at the kitchen table, put the papers on the floor, and took a seat.
He brought the sausage and cheese to the table on a cutting board with a huge knife in his hand and proceeded to slice pieces of cheese and saw off hunks of sausage. Stabbing the pieces of food with the tip of his knife, he popped them into his mouth.
“You always walk around with sausage and cheese?” he asked around a mouthful.
“No, but my mama always taught me to never call on someone empty-handed.”
He pointed the knife in her direction. “Your mama is a smart woman.”
Sadie felt only marginally guilty watching Mr. Eckert consume a year’s worth of cholesterol at one sitting. Once he’d had his fill, he stuffed what was left into a Ziploc bag and quickly put it in the fridge, as if he was afraid she’d ask to keep the leftovers.
Then he took a large red binder off his kitchen counter and brought it to the table.
“Lots of people will try and tell you that block watch is only keeping an eye on your neighbors and reporting suspicious behavior.”
“And it’s not?”
“No. It’s much more.” He grabbed a toothpick from a small container and began picking his teeth and sucking the food off. “Take you, for example. I bet one of your neighbors had a break-in and that’s why you decided to start a block watch.”
“Actually, it was me who had the break-in.”
“Aha!” He pointed the toothpick at her. “This is how it always starts. People wait to be broken into and then they put things in place to stop it.” He shook his head as if this was the biggest crime of all. “But it’s not too late. You need to be extra vigilant now, because they will be back.”
“The burglars?”
“Yes. They know you have insurance and they’ll wait until you file your claim, replace all your property, and then boom!” He slammed a fist on the table, making Sadie jump. “They come back and steal from you again.”
“Wow.”
Sadie really didn’t want to stay here all night. She needed to move this conversation back in the right direction.
“So tell me, Mr. Eckert, how do you do it? How do you keep tabs on everyone on the street?”
“With this.” He patted his red binder lovingly. “Everything I see and hear on this street goes into this book.”
Now we�
��re getting somewhere!
“Do you mind if I take a look at that?” Sadie asked, snaking her hand out to grab it.
Mr. Eckert clutched it against his chest.
“There’s lots of personal stuff in here.” He flipped the binder open and slid his finger down a page. “This entry, for example. Last Tuesday morning at six, Miss Yakamoto in the bungalow at the corner kissed her new boyfriend good-bye on the front porch.”
“And you wrote that down?” Sadie could barely contain her smile.
“Of course, and it’s not because I give a donkey’s arse who she’s fooling around with. It’s because if I know who belongs on the street, then it’s easier for me to spot the impostors and the would-be burglars.” He flipped to the next page. “See here.” He flashed her the page briefly. “That was the time I caught you spying in Kent’s windows.”
“Right.” Sadie nodded thoughtfully. “It must be really hard to keep track of everyone, though. For example, if Kent Lasko went jogging at odd hours, how could you possibly mark it down every single time? You’re human and you need your sleep.”
“Sure, but not as much as I used to. I’ve got problems with my bowels and I’m up every hour like a newborn baby.”
That was entirely too much information.
“I see. So you’ve probably never seen Kent jogging. Or anyone else,” she quickly added. “If they do it during those times when you’re in bed or, um, indisposed.”
“Only saw Kent jog a couple times, with his brother. Christian can run like the wind, but it didn’t really look like Kent’s thing, even though he was wearing all those bright running duds like Christian. Kent likes to ski, though. He’s got a buddy who has a condo in Tahoe, and he goes there a couple times a year.”
Damn. So much for that idea.
“Now old Mr. Diago across the lane has taken up jogging recently.” Mr. Eckert got to his feet and opened his kitchen window blinds. “He’s a fatty, but he won’t be for long ’cause he’s been sticking to a regular schedule. See?”
Sadie got to her feet and politely looked where Mr. Eckert was pointing. She saw a dark blur of a large person exiting a back gate across the lane. When the person got closer, Mr. Eckert’s motion detector floodlights came on and illuminated his entire backyard and parking pad.
Sadie drew in a sharp intake of breath.
“Mr. Eckert, is that your car?”
“Of course it’s my car. It’s in my driveway, isn’t it?”
“Does it have some rust on the driver’s door?”
“Sure, but it still runs like a top.”
“You know, a green Toyota like that one drove by my house and shot at me. Put a lady in the hospital.”
“It sure as hell wasn’t my car,” he said indignantly. “It hasn’t left that spot in ages except to get the tires rotated.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t’ve let Christian take it to the garage for a tire rotation, but he offered since he had a coupon to get it done for free and didn’t need his own tires done. I figured what the hell. The tires don’t look no different to me, though.”
Sadie swallowed nervously. If Christian had the car, Kent had access to it. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and she felt a sudden need to snuggle with Hairy.
“Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Eckert,” she said. “I can see I have lots to learn before I can hope to be captain of my block watch.”
“Wait just a second. Let me show you my high-lighting system.” He flipped the binder open to the last few entries, privacy be damned. “See how I’ve highlighted some in yellow, a few in green, and a couple in pink?”
“Yes,” Sadie said with barely passing interest.
“It helps me to keep track of the hours people are at work.”
“Why would you want to know that?”
He looked at her like she was crazy.
“Jeez, you do have lots to learn.” He shook his head. “Well, if I know who’s at work at what time, I know when I should be keeping a special watch on their house. The thieves always wait for people to go to work. So those working normal nine-to-five jobs I’ve got highlighted in yellow, those working night shift are in green, and the oddball hours, unemployed or retired are all highlighted in pink.”
“Right.” Sadie nodded. “So how would you keep track of the Laskos next door for example? Christian works nights, and since Kent is a Realtor, his hours can’t be regular.”
“Yes, that’s why I’ve got them here. See?” He pointed to K. Lasko highlighted in green and K. Lasko highlighted in pink.
“So you’ve highlighted Kent in green and pink, meaning that he works nights and odd hours?”
He shook his head. “No I’ve got Kent in pink because he works odd hours, but his brother is green because he works nights as a janitor at a school.”
“Oh, I was confused because you labeled them both with the first initial K.”
“Their names both do start with K,” he explained. “Kristian spells his name with a K as well.”
“Are you sure?” She felt a little dizzy.
“Of course I’m sure,” he snapped. “Sometimes the stupid postie drops their mail at my house and I have to walk it over. All Kristian’s mail has his name spelled with a K.”
“And you said he’s janitor at a school?”
“Yeah but not a regular kind. A special one somewhere.”
“A school for the deaf maybe?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
Sadie’s head swam with the information. “I’ve got a headache. I really should go.”
He walked her to the door.
“I’d be happy to walk you through the hazards of surveillance next week. You can bring some corned beef next time. Sausage gives me the burps.” He belched as if making a point.
She shook his hand, thanked him for his time, and promised to stay in touch.
As she quick-walked back to her car, Sadie was aware of every person out for an evening stroll and every shadow. Her heartbeat raced whenever she passed a shrub close to the sidewalk where someone could be hiding. She jogged the last half block and peered inside the backseat of her car before opening the door, climbing behind the wheel, and locking the doors.
She turned the key in the ignition and didn’t take a breath until she’d floored the accelerator and was two blocks away.
When she stopped at a red light half a mile away, she dialed Zack’s number.
“Did you know that Kent Lasko’s brother, Kristian, spells his name with a K?” she asked.
“And this is important why?” he asked.
Sadie heard a woman’s voice in the background before Zack covered the phone with his hand.
“It’s important because Trudy tried to send me a message spelling the name of the person who killed her and only got out the letter K and I’ve been thinking all along that she meant Kent.”
“So now you’re thinking Kristian killed her?”
“Yes. Maybe.”
“Well, as long as you’re sure.” He chuckled.
“Look, Kristian is a jogger and whoever killed Trudy wore a Run-Tec shirt.”
“How do you know Kent isn’t a jogger?”
The pitch of her voice rose. “Because the captain of the block watch told me that Kent doesn’t jog as much as his brother, and, trust me, this guy would know.”
“Calm down. You sound hysterical.”
“Besides, Kristian also worked as a janitor at a school for the deaf!”
She heard Paula, or whoever, talking to Zack in the background, and her grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“Okay, you’re right. It’s probably nonsense,” she said, suddenly anxious to be off the phone.
“Maybe not nonsense, but you might be jumping to conclusions. Share what you know with Petrovich and I’ll call you later, okay? I’ve got another call coming in.”
Sadie told him that was fine and then she pulled into a 7-Eleven and bought herself a large
Slurpee and a chocolate bar.
By the time she got home, she was feeling both mildly sated by the excess sugar and a whole lot embarrassed about calling Zack. He was right. She was jumping to conclusions. What she needed to do was think things through calmly, and then, if it still sounded plausible, she’d call Petrovich with the details.
She walked into her house and hustled to turn off her alarm after she dead-bolted the front door. Then she went to toss her Slurpee cup in the kitchen trash. Hairy came skidding across the linoleum, and as Sadie bent down to greet him she noticed movement out by her back door. Her breath caught in her throat, but fear turned to laughter when she saw that the movement was caused by Maeva standing on her back deck, her eyes wide and a stupid smile on her face.
“You sure are persistent,” Sadie said as she opened the door.
Her mind registered her fatal mistake even before Maeva cried out, “I’m so sorry, Sadie!”
Kristian Lasko shoved Maeva through the door ahead of him, a revolver pressed to the back of her head.
His eyes were wild with rage.
“If you scream,” he whispered, “I’ll blow her head off.”
19
Sadie leapt backward and stumbled, but Kristian grabbed her by the front of her shirt and pressed the muzzle of the gun roughly to her cheek.
“Not one word,” he said icily.
Hairy, being the pillar of support to his mistress that he always was, hopped out the open door to his freedom. Sadie had no time to be concerned for her pet because Kristian’s eyes never left hers as he kicked the back door closed with his foot and reached behind him to lock it tight.
“Let Maeva go. She’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Like hell,” Kristian barked. “She’s been sitting out there in her car watching you. You would’ve been better off getting that guy who works for you to play bodyguard rather than using your wimpy friend.”
“I should’ve warned you,” Maeva said, her eyes pained.
“You did it. You killed Trudy and Grant,” Sadie said, focusing on Kristian’s hard eyes.
She grimaced as he roughly grabbed her upper arm and forced the two of them out of the kitchen and down the hall. He kept one hand clamped on Sadie’s arm and the other pointing a gun at Maeva.
The Remains of the Dead Page 24