“And you feel confident you’ve got a good doctor? He did a good job, I mean? You won’t need the surgery?”
“I want to come home, Sadie.”
She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, and she stifled a sob. The ache of longing in her chest was so physically painful she put one hand over her heart as she pulled in a long breath.
“I found the pills, Zack. The bottles you hid around the house. This wasn’t just a foot injury thing. How long has this been going on?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“Really? It looks like you’ve been hiding an addiction to painkillers and then traded me in for pills, vodka, and Paula, and not necessarily in that order.”
“No!” he shouted. “It wasn’t like that. Sure, I lost it for a few days. It was like I lost my mind when I walked into that hospital after I hurt my foot. Guess it reminded me of when I was shot and then, well, everything else seemed to fall into place to fit that time in my life.”
He was babbling and she heard the underlying slurred tone to his voice clearly now. She knew the speech was probably fueled by intoxication, but she wanted so badly to believe him.
“I know you got hurt but I needed you, Zack. Damn it, my dad just died!” She blinked back tears and she swallowed the lump in her throat.
“I’ll kick the pills no problem, Sadie. I love you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “Let me come home and I’ll prove it.”
“Will you go back to Whispering Groves Drug Rehab Center? They helped you the first time.”
“It’s not that bad. I’m telling you it’s a done deal as soon as my ankle is better.”
Sadie heard the begging in his voice, and her fingernails cut half-moons into her palms as she felt herself giving in. Then she heard a woman’s voice in the background—Paula’s—and it strengthened her resolve.
“I’m going to spend some serious time thinking,” Sadie said. “I suggest you do the same.”
Sadie quietly hung up the phone. She didn’t answer it again when it rang seconds later. Instead, she ignored it and headed for the shower.
After her shower, she checked her cell phone and saw she had two missed calls. One was from Zack and the other was Petrovich. Sadie returned the detective’s call.
“Just wanted to let you know I’ve got my guys working over at Sunnyside Avenue this morning. So far so good. Don’t know what kind of voodoo magic you and your friends worked over there, and I don’t want to know, but I just wanted to say thanks.”
“I can’t take any credit,” Sadie replied. “I just kind of supervised. You’re not letting the guys work upstairs, though, right?”
“Not yet but they’re making good progress moving all those piles of crap to a warehouse where the other team is sorting through it. I’m guessing another day and we’re gonna need to get upstairs.”
“I guess I’ll have to call Louise and the Thingvolds back in for round two when the time comes,” Sadie offered, although she had no idea how that would work. “By the way, Carole Brant was snooping around a bit last night, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she calls the department or anything.”
“Snooping how?”
“She was hiding in the bushes when we were just leaving. Said she was putting out her trash and heard us, but I got the impression she was curious about what was going on and what we were doing there.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“Not much; just that we had the radio on a bit louder than we should have while we cleaned up.”
“Good. I don’t think she’s anything to worry about. She’s probably just curious.”
“Yeah, that’s what I figured too.” Sadie added, “By the way, Louise had a weird note on her car afterward.”
“Her car?”
“Yeah, it was parked in my driveway. It sounds a lot like the first message, the one written on the dash of my van.” Sadie told him what the note said.
“Queen of Clean, huh? That is weird. So the person got to your van at the mall and also knows where you live. I don’t like the sound of it. Either they know your schedule or they’re following you. You piss anyone off lately?”
“Only a big ugly dude in green boxers.”
“Say the word and I’ll send a cruiser to his house.”
“You’ve already done that. I’m talking about the ghost at Sunnyside Avenue.”
“Oh. Anyone alive you piss off lately?”
“I don’t think it’s a big deal, Dean. I mean, c’mon. Queen of Clean?” She giggled. “Someone’s got a sick sense of humor but I don’t find that scary.”
“You’re probably right but keep an eye out anyway,” he told her gruffly. “Oh, and by the way, I’ve got a call into PBF about you finding that blood in the office at the school.”
“I’m heading back over to the school this morning,” Sadie told him.
“I expect you’ll hear from him,” he warned.
Sadie was dreading going back to the school because she knew eventually she’d have to deal with Virgil Lalty. She restocked the Scene-2-Clean van and double- and triple-checked inventory, even though she knew damn well she had enough supplies to clean a half dozen more jobs. After last night’s note, she’d checked out the garage while the threesome smudged and cleansed the inside of the house. Nobody had gone through her supplies last night and they looked fine now too.
Back inside the house, she scrubbed down her bathroom and then cleaned Hairy’s litter box. Next she dressed and poured herself a second cup of coffee, taking it over to her kitchen table to drink.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Sadie told Hairy, who had plopped his fluffy-tailed butt down on the floor in front of her. “I know you’re used to having the house to yourself during the day, but you’ll have to put up with me for a few more minutes. I’m not ready to go yet.” When Hairy still sat looking up at her, she sighed. “Do you think I should let Zack come home?”
Hairy only twitched his nose in reply. He was a good listener but not big on advice. She added some carrots and broccoli to his kibble on her way out the door. Once she was behind the wheel of her van, she dialed Maeva.
“The Thingvolds and Louise did a great job. Thanks.”
“I knew they would,” Maeva said. “They got a knack for creating strong circles of protection.”
“Petrovich is extremely grateful,” Sadie told her friend.
“Good to hear,” Maeva said. “But that’s not why you called.”
“Sometimes having a psychic for a friend sucks,” Sadie remarked.
“It doesn’t take any great medium abilities to hear the sadness in your voice. You heard from Zack?”
“Yeah, he called.”
“And?”
“And he wants to come home.”
“Oh!” She seemed to give that some thought. “But you’re not sure if you want him back.”
“Wow, you are psychic.”
Maeva chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what the clientele of Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café keep telling me.” She blew out a slow breath. “You don’t have to give him an answer right away, or you can tell him he needs to work on his issues before he asks you formally for forgiveness.”
“I found more pill bottles in the house. He started back on the drugs before he was hurt and needed pain meds. I told him he needs to get help.”
“That’s good,” Maeva said. “He needs to work on his issues.”
“ ‘Work on his issues.’ I like that. Puts the ball back in his court without making me feel like I abandoned him just when the going got tough.”
“He abandoned you, remember?”
Sadie steered her van toward Capitol Hill. “Remember what they say, though: for better or worse, in sickness and in health.”
“But you’re not married, so it doesn’t apply.”
“But he asked me to marry him last month, right? So if I’d said yes and then didn’t take him back the first time he screwed up, the first tough hurdle we experience
d, what would that say about me?”
“It would say you value yourself too much to deal with a cheating drug addict, and he should be prepared to crawl on his knees through broken glass to make up for all the shit he’s put you through.” She sighed. “Sadie, even if he gets it right, even if he gets help and comes back with his tail between his legs, there’s no guarantee all this crap won’t happen again. You got to decide what’s right for you, and you sure as hell don’t need to decide that today just because he’s ready to get off Paula’s couch and come back home.”
“You think he’s really on her couch and not in her bed?”
“Of course.”
“You’re a good friend.”
“And as a good friend I’m going to ask you again about your dad, and this time I don’t want you to blow me off with excuses.”
Sadie stopped at a red light and drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. “Okay, well, what does it mean that he doesn’t appear fully to me?”
“How does he appear?”
“His entire physical form hasn’t appeared to me since that very first time. I only seem to get part of his body showing up at a time.”
“Hmmm.”
Sadie could visualize Maeva tapping her chin with a pen, a habit she picked up on her most recent attempt to quit smoking.
“He may just move on without you, Sadie. Maybe he really has no issues keeping him here.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s what worries me the most.” Sadie sighed. “I was hoping for a little longer.”
“I know you were.” Maeva’s voice grew soft but also serious. “And that’s why you are probably what’s keeping him here. You keep drawing him back. Remember when Pam—”
But Sadie didn’t want to talk about her friend Pam and she wasn’t ready to deal with her dad either. “I gotta go. I’m on my way to a job.”
“Be safe,” Maeva said, her voice sounding like a warning. “I’ve been getting some weird vibes about you lately.”
“Weird pretty much surrounds me these days,” Sadie said.
“It must, because my mind keeps coming up with the phrase ‘virgin laughing.’ ”
“Laughing virgin?” Sadie laughed herself now and it felt good and soothing.
“Not ‘laughing virgin’ but ‘virgin laughing,’ ” Maeva said, sounding a little embarrassed. “And I’m not kidding.”
“Virgin laughing,” Sadie repeated, and a small smile broke into a wide grin as she exclaimed, “Virgil Lalty!”
“What?”
“Are you sure the phrase isn’t the name Virgil Lalty? Because he’s the ghost at the job I’m working lately.”
“Oh, my God, that’s it!” Maeva sounded immensely relieved. “My wires have been so crossed lately. Thanks for making me feel like I haven’t gone totally crazy.”
“And thanks for the laugh,” Sadie said. “Anything in particular you needed to tell me about Mr. Lalty?”
“Just that he is someone you need to help move on.”
After the call ended, Sadie turned up the radio and sang along to keep her mind off Zack and Maeva’s weird vibes. When she reached the parking lot of Ocean View School, she was thinking about the conversation she’d have with Virgil Lalty and hoping it would settle things at this place once and for all. Then she saw the Seattle PD unmarked car parked near the front entrance of the school and realized she’d be dealing with other stuff first.
She got out of her vehicle and saw the detective immediately open his own door. Sadie took in his near six foot slim frame and blond, almost boyish looks with surprise. The Pretty Boy description was bang on. Making detective would’ve been a tough haul for someone who had the Greek god chiseled features of this guy.
She met him at the vestibule at the front doors and pulled out the keys with her left hand while offering him her right.
“Hi. Sadie Novak,” she said. “You must be Detective Grayson.”
“Yeah.” His handshake was all business with fingers that were rough and calloused and in no way reflected his pretty-boy face.
“I was surprised to get a call from Petrovich saying you think we missed something here.” His voice was even but his green eyes were angry bullets.
“Hey, no accusations here,” Sadie said, holding up her hands in a stopping motion. “All I know is I dropped my phone in the principal’s office and it came away with a dot of blood on it.”
“Right.” His look said, Everyone thinks they’re a detective .
“Why don’t we just go inside, and you can do your job and I’ll do mine,” Sadie suggested, not in the mood to defend herself or her abilities.
Once inside the school, Sadie opened the office door, and the detective stepped hurriedly past her into the principal’s office.
“I was told the scene was confined to the two rooms in back—the early years arts center and the janitor’s supply closet—and the hall between.” She waved her hand to encompass the office. “This office area was offered to me as a safe zone to don and doff gear. I was working at the desk when I dropped my phone here.” Sadie bent and pointed to an area behind the desk.
“And you’re sure it had blood on it.”
“I may not know everything about police work,” Sadie said in a biting tone, “but you can bet your ass I know friggin’ blood when I see it, Detective. It’s kind of my life’s work.”
He nodded, conceding that point, and then got down on his hands and knees, squinting beneath the desk and touching the carpet there.
“Pull back the baseboard,” Sadie said. “I doubt the room’s been painted, and if any blood got behind there, it’ll still be there.”
PBF rolled his eyes. “You don’t have the market cornered on uncovering blood spatter. I’ve done this a couple times myself. For there to be the amount of blood you’re thinking, this would’ve had to be a major scene. You saw how much was in the art room. How much blood do you think this guy had in him?”
Sadie didn’t reply. PBF frowned and lifted the cover off a floor vent under the desk. With the cover gone, the raw edges of the carpet and underlay were visible. Angling a halogen lamp that he took from the desk toward the vent, the detective lifted the edge of the carpet and peered underneath.
“Huh. Guess that’s another way to do it,” Sadie muttered.
“Nothing,” he said, and then he looked over his shoulder at Sadie. “You want to check for yourself or will you take my word for it?”
Sadie knew the question was meant to be rhetorical but she was down on the floor next to him in a heartbeat. She took the lamp from his hand and looked under the tented carpeting herself. He was right. There was no sign of blood.
“It was probably just a small amount of trace.”
“Sure. You do know that Ms. Tu was the one who discovered the body, right?”
“Oh.” Suddenly Sadie knew where he was going with the comment. “You think it was transfer.”
“Sure.”
“She saw the body and ran to her office to make the call.”
He replaced the vent cover and then got to his feet. They stood less than a foot apart.
“So she brought blood in here on her shoes or something, right?” Sadie repositioned the lamp on the desk. “How was the body discovered? Was the principal questioned?”
“Hey, I don’t know what your usual relationship with SPD is like outside of some kind of friendship with Petrovich and something else altogether with Zack Bowman, but I don’t talk about my cases outside of the blue. Sorry.”
Sadie felt the need to defend Petrovich, who’d obviously stuck his neck out to get PBF out to this scene on her whim. “Petrovich is a good detective. We’ve worked together enough that I know he’s damn good at what he does and he knows I’m good at what I do. I never, ever interfere in an investigation.” Well, hardly ever. She pointed a finger in his face. “And my relationship or lack thereof with Zack Bowman is none of your business.” She nodded to the room. “Frankly, I don’t even care if you share with me details of how
the body was discovered. I was only trying to make your job easier.”
“Yeah. Right. You thought you’d uncovered what? A second crime scene, Sadie Sleuth? Why don’t you leave the detecting to the detectives, and we’ll leave mopping up afterward to you.”
He turned to leave and Sadie was hot on his heels. They walked through the front doors of the school, and the double doors swung shut behind them. She watched him storm off to his car and followed close behind.
“Sorry for wasting your time!” she shouted at his back. “Don’t worry; it won’t happen again.”
He stopped short and Sadie nearly slammed into him. When Detective Grayson whirled to face her, they were inches apart.
“Look, I’m not insulting what you do. It’s a dirty, stinking job but, as they say, somebody’s gotta do it, right? And better you than me.” His green eyes softened enough so that she could see the more human and less cop side of him.
“Don’t worry,” Sadie mumbled. “I’ll just keep on doing my job. You won’t hear from me again.”
He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it.
“What?” Sadie demanded.
“It’s just that hanging around with a chick like you is bad for a cop’s reputation.” He shrugged. “Sorry, but that’s how it is.”
When he reached for the door handle, Sadie put a hand on his car door to stop him from opening it.
“What the hell does that mean? A chick like me?”
He threw up his hands and huffed like he really did not want to be having this conversation but Sadie wasn’t about to let it go.
“Tell me,” she insisted.
“The guys just talk about you and your, um, spooky ways.” He chuckled softly but there was no laughter in his voice. “They say you do a great job mopping blood ’n’ guts but you, um . . .”
“What?” Sadie shouted.
“That you sold your soul to the devil to talk to the dead.” He smiled sheepishly and actually blushed.
“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sadie said, and guffawed loudly to cover her hurt.
She tried to conceal the embarrassment that she knew was written plainly across her face by turning and walking away. It was the detective’s turn to follow.
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