Dead Suite Part 2

"Yes. I think about it every day and every night. Osbert still doesn't sleep through the night and refuses to take my milk from a bottle, so that means Terry can't help with all those late-night feedings. I spend a lot of time watching middle-of-the night TV with a baby stuck to a b.o.o.b. I've developed a fondness for crime shows and all those reality programs on addiction."

Sadie glanced down at Osbert, who had wrapped a chubby fist around her necklace and was attempting to pull the pendant into his mouth. She unclenched his fingers and tucked the necklace inside her shirt.

"Since when do you wear jewelry?" Maeva asked, narrowing her eyes. "Is it a gift from Zack?"

"No." Although she sure wished it was. "I began wearing jewelry when clients began paying me with vintage gold necklaces instead of cash."

Maeva got up and walked over for a closer look. Sadie slipped the necklace off from around her neck and handed it to her friend. Maeva squeezed the pendant between her fingers, then rubbed it softly against her cheek and pressed it to her closed eyes. Sadie didn't want to think about how intimate one could get with a necklace.

"Why are you trying to get something off the necklace?" Sadie asked her.

"I figured it might be worth a shot." She sighed and slipped it back over Sadie's head. "The only thing that came to my mind were the words Stone Soup."

"Stone soup?" Sadie's eyebrows went up. "I've got some Campbell's in the cupboard. But probably chicken noodle."

"I think it's an old children's story or nursery rhyme. This is what happens to mediums when they become mothers." Maeva slumped back into her chair. "And you'd better not take payment in jewelry or you'll end up like one of those small-town doctors that take payments in eggs and chickens."

"It's better than no payment at all," Sadie said seriously. "Look, why don't you go and have a nice bubble bath and then climb into my bed for a couple hours. Me and the Ozzmeister will be just fine."

"Really?"

"Sure. I was going to watch a little TV myself before getting a couple hours of shut-eye. I'm not ready to sleep yet and you look dead on your feet."

Maeva blinked back tears of grat.i.tude and thanked Sadie profusely before taking off at a near run down the hall.

"Now no more tears, buddy," Sadie said to Osbert. "Auntie Sadie needs to chill out and stop thinking about dead hookers."

Osbert blew spit bubbles at her in agreement.

Sadie and Osbert did fine because the baby had tired himself out in the crying jag on the way over, and he was soon asleep in her arms. Sadie gently put him down on the sofa next to her and prayed he wouldn't wake up. Then she resumed her early happy-hour shift and ate her Cheetos, washing them down with beer.

Her cell phone chirped that a text came in. She tugged it from her pocket, read the message from Zack, and released a string of curse words that would've increased Osbert's vocabulary greatly had he been old enough to speak.

Zack had picked up some extra work on the weekend so now it was going to be another ten days before they saw each other. Sadie blinked back tears as she downed the last of her beer.

"Screw him," she muttered. "If he doesn't want to be here, there's nothing I can do about it."

Even as she said it, she knew that he was just trying to hold down a job and feel useful. Sadie herself would've worked all weekend if a job came up, so it was unfair to expect him to turn down work. It wasn't the working that annoyed the h.e.l.l out of her. Things would be different if he acted like a boyfriend when he was home.

She angrily s.n.a.t.c.hed up the remote control and channel surfed until something caught her eye. The local news station was announcing another prost.i.tute had been murdered at a local hotel, and the anchor was suggesting to the people of Seattle that SPD wasn't doing enough to keep the city safe for the working girls. They'd already labeled this as the work of the Seattle Slasher.

"Huh. Look at that," Sadie said to sleeping Osbert. "Looks like business is picking up. If people keeping killing each other, I might just be able to afford to get you a Tickle Me Elmo for your first birthday."

The news droned on and after a while Sadie felt her own eyes drifting closed. She arranged herself on the sofa to protect Osbert in case he abruptly decided to roll over or do handsprings off the couch while they slept. Together they dozed for a few hours-though it felt like only five minutes had pa.s.sed when the baby decided to put an end to all sleep with an operatic high note that would've made Maria Callas proud. The fillings in Sadie's teeth were still vibrating when she picked him up and began walking the floor while he gnawed on her shoulder.

Maeva rescued them both. She walked into the living room, pausing to yawn and stretch like a cat, before taking Osbert from Sadie's grasp.

"Thanks sooo much," Maeva sighed. "I haven't slept three straight hours in months."

Sadie glanced at her watch and sure enough it was after four o'clock. Time flies when you fall into a sleep-deprived zombie state.

Maeva sat in a chair to nurse the always-hungry Osbert and Sadie went to the kitchen to fix them a late lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches. She returned to the living room with the sandwiches and went back for drinks. Sadie took the time to position a sandwich and lemonade at Maeva's elbow on a corner table so she could eat while nursing. Then she settled onto the couch with her sandwich and another beer.

"How are things going at Madam Maeva's Psychic Cafe?" Sadie asked. "Are the Thingvolds holding down the fort?"

"Well, you know how Rosemary and Rick are . . . ," Maeva responded, taking a bite from her sandwich.

Rosemary and Rick Thingvold were a husband and wife Wiccan revolution. Maeva had introduced Sadie to the Thingvolds when she needed help to excise a demon from a h.o.a.rder's house. Maeva had referred to them as paranormally knowledgeable yet "quirky." Sadie thought of them simply as bat-s.h.i.t crazy. They tended to attract attention wherever they went because of their matching shaved their heads, multiple tattoos, and body piercings. Sadie used to refer to Rosemary and Rick as Thing One and Thing Two until Maeva told her to knock it off.

"Does that mean they're doing good at Madam Maeva's?" Sadie asked.

"Yes. Business is good. Very good. Rick has set up a website and a blog while Rosemary tweets. Business is up twenty percent since I left."

"Really? What do they blog and tweet about?"

"Everything. If one of them opens the mail or p.o.o.ps, they probably announce it to the world," Maeva said in a clipped tone.

"Well, it brings in new clients, right? Guess the advertising is a good thing. It means you can stay home with little Ozz and you don't have to worry about the business tanking while you're off."

"Sure. It's great."

Sadie didn't have to be a police detective or a trauma cleaner to pick up on the clue that Maeva missed working.

"Look at it this way-it took two of them to replace one of you."

"That's true. I just wish they weren't so d.a.m.ned good at it. They're such keeners. They've even taken on the occasional side job," Maeva said, expertly switching Osbert from one breast to the next.

"Really? What kind of side job does a psychic do? Home parties like Tupperware gone horribly wrong?"

"The usual . . . seances and stuff. They're actually visiting a home tonight and asked if I wanted to come along, you know, just to keep my hand in. It was a referral from that convention I spoke to so, actually, the business came from me."

"Then you should go. Why not? It'd be fun," Sadie said, taking a long pull on her beer.

"Maybe . . . if you come along."

Sadie raised her eyebrows in question. "Why would you want me there?"

"The Thingvolds asked for you."

"Sorry, but that cuts into the plans I had to wallow in self-pity and reflect on the despairing abyss that is my love life."

"I take it you miss Zack?"

"He's taken on another job this weekend, so now he won't be back for ten days." Sadie spat the words out and was surprised at the fury she felt.

"Huh. Are you p.i.s.sed because you just miss him so desperately, or is it because you feel like he's avoiding being with you?"

Sadie hated it when her friend nailed it with the first try. Sometimes having a psychic for a friend sucked-even an on-maternity-leave psychic. Sadie didn't reply except to get off the couch and bring their dirty plates to the kitchen, where she spent an inordinate amount of time washing the dishes and feeding Hairy some kibble. When she returned to the living room, Maeva had Osbert against her shoulder and was gently rubbing his back to produce a belch. Sadie sat down on the sofa and began transferring odds and ends from her current purse to the new one from Maeva.

"Zack and I haven't had s.e.x since he got out of Whispering Groves," Sadie announced.

Maeva's eyes grew huge. "Really?"

Sadie nodded. "Before he left rehab he announced that he was going to get his own place and that we'd start over as a proper couple. Dating and stuff. It was part of his new life program to keep him on the straight and narrow."

"Well, that sounds kind of sweet," Maeva said, nodding thoughtfully. "I mean, you met because he was your employee at Scene-2-Clean and you kind of fell into this idea of being a couple. The idea of starting off slowly by dating is very romantic. When does he plan to move out so you can get going on this then?"

"That's just it. When he got back home he caught sight of my stack of unpaid bills and said he'd stay until business picked up so that he can help chip in toward costs. I figured, in the meantime, we'd be back to being . . . us. But we're not us. We're not even the way we were before we became romantically involved. No hugs or kisses. Brief glances at each other, and he clings to his side of the bed like he's afraid I might touch him. It's just really awkward." Sadie's shoulders slumped. "Do you think he's really just waiting until I can afford my own expenses again before he breaks up, or is he serious about starting this whole dating idea? Because when we talk on the phone he's all s.e.xy and flirty but when he's here we're back to being horrible roommates again." Sadie threw up her hands.

"First of all, you should be having this conversation with him, not me."

"Yeah, well, I've tried. Every conversation ends with me feeling like I've pushed him farther away. I also feel like I don't want to rock the boat."

"Well, Zack's a complicated guy. First he was a cop who took a bullet for his partner, then got hooked on pain pills and had to leave the force. Then he got hurt working for you and the addiction started up again. He's fighting his own demons, right? He's done his time at rehab and he's back on track. I think, if you want him, you're going to have to let this happen in his own time."

Sadie picked up her beer and took a sip. She really hoped that everything could be solved in time.

"I hope you're right."

"I am. In the meantime, you should keep yourself busy by coming out with me tonight."

Sadie laughed. "Fine. I'll go. I'll even pick you up. What time should I get you?"

"Ten." Maeva got to her feet, looking exceptionally pleased. Sadie was uncertain if that was because of her decision to go to the seance tonight, or because of the loud burp produced by the baby.

"Isn't ten a little late to just be getting started?"

"Ten is...o...b..rt's best time," Maeva explained. "He has a feeding right before and, if we hustle, I can be out of the house without him for three glorious hours before old Bessy has to be back in the barn for milking time," she stated with a chuckle.

When Sadie said good-bye to her friend and G.o.dson at the door she resisted the urge to go back to sleep. Instead she spent some time in the evening cleaning Hairy's litter box, catching up on laundry, and losing herself in housework. Cleaning up blood and gore might pay the mortgage but tidying her own house made her feel normal. When a large portion of the world viewed you as a freak, normal wasn't overrated.

Sadie took the time to dial Hugh Pacheo to tell him she'd finished the work at his son's garage. A recording said the cell number wasn't in service. Sadie double-checked the number and it was the same she'd called him on earlier. Either Mr. Pacheo hadn't paid his cell bill or there was a problem with the number. She decided to e-mail him that the job was complete.

She still had one more thing she had to accomplish. There was a certain ghost she'd made a promise to. Sadie had put it off but she knew she'd feel better if she at least attempted to find May Lathrop's cash and jewelry and drop it off at WATS.

May Lathrop had given Sadie the address of a small bas.e.m.e.nt suite in a house located on South King Street near Twelfth Avenue. She had no trouble finding it, but when she drove slowly past there was a man sitting on the front steps smoking a fat cigar. She didn't want to have to deal with other tenants who might call SPD and report her for wanting to break into a dead girl's apartment.

While she thought about what to do, Sadie decided to grab something to eat at the Vietnamese restaurant across the street. She ordered the chicken pho and took the bowl of noodles to eat at a table outside. While she ate she kept an eye on the place across the street. Eventually the man on the front stoop was joined by a woman and two chubby middle schoolers. After some discussion out front, all four piled into a beat-up Chevy. The car noisily backfired and chugged right past where Sadie was sitting and disappeared up the road.

After finishing her soup, Sadie casually crossed the street and walked up the rickety wooden steps. The front door hung off-kilter due to broken hinges, and where the doorbell should've been were bare wires. Sadie rapped at the door even though she had no idea what she'd say if anyone answered. Lucky for her n.o.body was home, so she took the weed-choked sidewalk around the back of the house and found the entrance to the bas.e.m.e.nt suite.

The door had been sealed off by Seattle PD. Sadie chewed her lip nervously. She didn't like to break in and she sure as h.e.l.l didn't want to end up in a jail cell. Somehow she doubted she'd be released quickly once she revealed she was only obeying the wishes of a ghost.

But a promise was a promise. Glancing around, she saw that the back of the house wasn't visible to the buildings on either side. May had mentioned a rock painted with yellow daisies. It took Sadie a minute to find it in the overgrown garden. Whipping out a pair of disposable gloves from her back pocket, Sadie retrieved the key, opened the door, and then quickly closed the door behind her. The apartment was filthy and smelled of rotten food and mildew. Sadie wasted no time going to the bedroom, which boasted a saggy old mattress on the floor in the corner and a small lone window with tinfoil pressed against it to keep light from entering. The closet held an impressive amount of animal-print spandex and slinky dresses made from flammable-looking fluorescent fabrics, but this wasn't the time to pause and admire May's choice in hooker attire.

Standing on tiptoe, Sadie retrieved the shoe box. She popped open the lid and searched through a stack of photos and memorabilia to uncover a thick padded envelope that contained a stack of cash and a couple pairs of small diamond-studded earrings. Sadie pocketed the treasures before carefully placing the shoe box back in its location.

After locking up the suite, she returned the key to its hiding spot and hustled back to her car. She had less than an hour to drop off the loot at WATS downtown and make it to Maeva's.

She was lucky enough to find parking right in front of the brown brick low-rise. The only indication that she was at the right place was a small piece of paper taped to the gla.s.s door with "WATS" handwritten on it. Sadie pushed the door open and looked around. The s.p.a.ce was cozy with a few round tables and folding chairs and a corner station with tar-like coffee simmering on a burner. Sadie stood next to a credenza littered with pamphlets that were free for the taking so that women coming in for help could pick up brochures on various helpful courses offered around town, and there were also pamphlets listing rehab centers as well as a sheet listing local shelters. She randomly picked up a handful of brochures and shuffled them in her hands.

There were a couple older women who looked like they might be volunteers. One of them got up from her chair and greeted Sadie.

"Can I help you?" asked the dark-skinned woman of about fifty.

"Do you work here?"

"I'm a volunteer. My name is Enid." She looked Sadie up and down appraisingly, obviously trying to decide if she was a working girl or just lost.

"I was a friend of May Lathrop's," Sadie said, mildly stretching the truth.

"Oh! That poor dear!" Enid's hand flew to her mouth and her eyes welled up with tears. "She was one of our favorites, and she was trying so hard to leave the streets behind."

Sadie nodded. "She had a bit of savings and jewelry set aside for her future. She wanted your organization to have it." Sadie handed over May's treasures.

"That's just like her." Enid clutched the envelope to her chest without looking inside. "Thank you so much for bringing it by. We're always looking for donations of any kind. Did you know her long?"

"Just long enough to know she thought highly of the work you do here."

"It's just the few of us ladies and a couple of clergy who run this place, but we like to feel that we're making a small difference."

Sadie a.s.sured her that May talked highly of all they did for her, and then she left the building. When she climbed back inside her car Sadie felt good. She was glad she'd taken the time to deal with May's last request. She realized she still held a handful of brochures that she'd picked up off the table inside WATS. Absently, she tossed the papers into the side pocket of the car door as she pulled away from the curb and headed to Maeva's place.

When Sadie left the house that night, she was dressed in her black jeans, Nikes, and a T-shirt. She didn't know if there was a dress code for seances, but she was going with comfort just in case. However, when she pulled up to Maeva's house, her friend darted out the front door, a flash of purple in a flowing peasant skirt with a dozen gold chains around her neck. She looked like a wannabe-gypsy experiment gone wrong.

Maeva hopped into the pa.s.senger seat of Sadie's Corolla and smiled.

"Is it over the top?" she asked, indicating her purpleness with a wave of her hand.

"Oh nooo," Sadie said, backing out of the driveway. "You look . . . like you're ready to get out."

"Got that right," Maeva said, blowing out an excited breath and then a giggle. "The minute Osbert was done feeding I pa.s.sed him off to Terry and ran out the door." She glanced at her watch. "By midnight I gotta be back for the next round, but right now I'm Cinderella off to the ball."

"I don't know if I'd compare a seance to a ball, but whatever," Sadie remarked.

"Who said anything about a seance?"

"You did." Sadie frowned. "Didn't you?"

"I said Rick and Rosemary Thingvold were going to a home tonight. I never said they were going there to do a seance." She pointed up ahead. "You'll want to take the next right."

"Okay, so why are we going to some house then?" Sadie asked warily.

"Oh you'll see."

"You're lucky I was dying for an excuse to get out of the house tonight," Sadie remarked. She took the next right and accelerated. "This had better be good."