Dead Suite Part 10

"No." Sadie shook her head violently from side to side. "Curiosity killed the cat, or in this case, the trauma-cleanup person."

They all followed Sadie outside the house and to her car.

"I'm supposed to lock up," Sadie said.

"Don't worry," Louise replied. "Gayla gave us a house key when she hired us." She gave Sadie a sympathetic look. "You go on home and take care. We'll lock up once we're done."

Sadie scarcely remembered the drive home. Her thoughts bounced between the call from Zack and nearly being sucked into a demonized closet. Once she was back home, Sadie poured herself a large gla.s.s filled with vodka and a splash of club soda and then climbed into a hot bubble bath. A few gulps of her drink and she found she could almost stop thinking about being devoured by a closeted malignant spirit. Zack's matter-of-fact tone when he called was another matter. His words were on repeat play inside her head: I'm driving back tomorrow. I'll stop by and get my things.

She heard her phone ring a few times but there was no way she was leaving her warm, sudsy comfort zone.

Once the bathwater began to chill she lifted her wrinkled body from the tub, dried off, and headed straight for her bed. She drifted off praying that she wouldn't dream of demons, closets, or Mephistopheles in any way, shape, or form.

It felt as if she'd just closed her eyes in a vodka-induced stupor when she heard a sound from the other room. Sadie sprung up to a sitting position and strained to listen. She couldn't remember if she'd set her alarm before going to bed or not. The sun was peeking through the blinds. It was obviously morning. Maybe the sound she'd heard was her neighbors putting out their trash. She strained to remember if it was garbage day and concluded it wasn't. It could've been Hairy knocking over his ceramic food dish in the kitchen.

A soft thud sounded from the living room and every nerve in Sadie's body pinged fiercely. That was definitely not a Hairy thud. As quietly as she could, Sadie climbed out of bed and picked up her robe from the floor to quickly cover her naked body. Holding her breath, she reached for her purse on the nightstand and mined through chocolate-bar wrappers and receipts to clutch the small canister of pepper spray she'd begun to carry around with her.

She padded softly toward her bedroom door and listened. Sadie held her breath and stood to the side of the door, hoping whoever it was would go into her office across the hall and steal her laptop instead of checking the bedroom. She was positive this was the hooker-murdering, finger-chopping maniac. She stared at her bedside phone longingly. She should've dialed 9-1-1. Then again, if it was the maniac, he could chop off more than one digit in the time it would take for help to arrive.

She heard determined footsteps coming down the hall toward her. If he slipped into the den, she'd take off down the hall and, hopefully, get out the front door before he could catch her. As she was planning her escape route, the bedroom door flung open.

Sadie lifted her hand and blasted pepper spray directly into the face of the cutthroat killer . . . who turned out to be Zack Bowman.

"Argh!" Zack fell to his knees, screaming a bountiful slew of swear words that were all anatomically and religiously impossible.

"Oh my G.o.d, Zack! I'm sooo sorry! I thought you were a killer!" Sadie dropped to her knees and stared at Zack's usually handsome, rugged face-now an inflamed, sloppy mess of mucous. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you call?"

"Shower," Zack grunted. He climbed unsteadily to his feet and stumbled down the hall and into the bathroom. "Bring Dawn," he commanded.

"My sister?" Sadie asked, confused.

"Dish soap!" Zack yelled.

"Don't blow a gasket!" Sadie screamed back and headed for the kitchen to snag the liquid dish soap. She returned to the find him naked in the shower and holding his face to the spray. "This isn't my fault, you know." She thrust the bottle of dish detergent into his hand. "You said you were coming today. Not at first morning's light."

"Check your messages," he groaned. "And leave me alone."

Sadie left the bathroom and then remembered the number of times her phone rang the night before when she'd been soaking in the tub. She checked her cell phone and discovered three missed calls. Two were from Maeva but Osbert was screaming in the background so she couldn't understand a word she was saying. The third message was from Zack, saying that he'd be coming by just after six in the morning to get his stuff because he had an early-morning job interview in Seattle. The voice mail said he'd try to be really quiet so as not to wake her.

"Still not my fault," Sadie said to Hairy, who was crouched hopefully by his food bowl. "Well, maybe it is a little my fault."

Sadie picked up her bunny, buried her face into his softness, and felt tension roll immediately off her shoulders. If she could find a way to bottle Hairy and sell him as antistress meds the world would be a happier place.

Reluctantly she lowered the rabbit to the floor and filled his dish with kibble, topping it off with a yogurt treat like a cherry on top. Then she texted Maeva: Are you awake?

Sadie's phone rang in her hand seconds later.

"I'm always awake. The question is, why are you awake?" Osbert was screaming in the background. "Never mind; you can tell me in a few minutes. I'm coming over. Please have coffee."

By the time Maeva and Osbert had arrived twenty minutes later, Zack was still in the shower, but there was coffee made. Sadie poured them each a mug and placed the cups on the table before relieving her friend of her whimpering infant.

"Did you have a hard time sleeping after the episode last night?" Maeva asked over her steaming mug.

"No. I took a bucket of vodka into a hot bubble bath. Then I drank and soaked until I had no feeling in my extremities."

"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 s.e.x."

"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 pa.s.s 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 a.s.shole," Sadie said, her lower lip quivering.

"Oh, Zack isn't an a.s.s," 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 s.n.a.t.c.hed 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. h.e.l.lo, 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 rea.s.sured 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 rea.s.sured 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, b.l.o.o.d.y 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 seance 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 a.s.sistance 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! h.e.l.lo!" The manager of the Eminence Hotel looked completely taken aback by Sadie's presence.

"Hi," Sadie replied with a bright smile.