The Remains Of The Dead Part 16

"My hands are going to be only about an inch away from yours, but I don't want you to grab my fingers or touch me. Understand?" Maeva asked gruffly.

"Yes."

Maeva shuffled her elbows across the desk until her palms were closer to Sadie's, and then she began humming. Sure enough, it was that tune from The Wizard of Oz.

"Don't you know any other songs?" Sadie quipped. "That one's getting old."

"Shut up," Maeva sniped. She squeezed her eyes shut and resumed humming.

After three or four minutes Sadie began to feel something. Her hands were becoming warm and tingly. At first she thought it was from being in such an awkward position, so she shifted a little in her seat. Then her hands also began to vibrate. There was a strange tickling, as though her palms were against Maeva's humming lips. Sadie blinked in surprise, because now that her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting, she could actually see her fingers trembling, and hard as she tried, she couldn't seem to stop them.

"There are cleaning supplies," Maeva murmured. "Buckets, mops, brushes, cleansers, and some kind of rolling cart." She pursed her lips into a thoughtful frown and then resumed humming. "It's raining hard and the roof is leaking. Not a lot, but there's a bucket catching the drips. You hate skiing."

Sadie harrumphed.

Maeva opened one eye and looked at Sadie. "Well, don't think about skiing if you don't want me to talk about it," she chastised.

Maeva hummed again, louder this time, and the vibration in Sadie's hands grew more intense. It became a struggle to prevent her hands from touching Maeva's because they seemed to be drawn together by some invisible magnet. Sadie noticed that Maeva's fingers were trembling as well. The psychic looked as though she was in pain, and she had a fine mist of perspiration on her upper lip.

"I don't know why he did it," Maeva suddenly gasped. She moaned softly, then blew the next words out as if it was a huge effort. "I'm sorry, but I just don't know."

She yanked her hands away abruptly, and it was as though invisible strings broke from Sadie's fingertips. Her hands dropped to the desk.

"That's all I've got," Maeva announced.

She stood, opened the blinds, and turned on the light.

"Well, that wasn't very helpful," Sadie remarked sulkily.

She folded her arms and tucked her fingers under her arms. She was extremely grateful that the tremor in her hands had stopped, but they still tingled.

"I can only tell you what I see," Maeva said. Snagging a tissue from a box on the corner of her desk, she dabbed the sweat from her face.

"But you didn't see anything," Sadie protested. "All those supplies are the things I use to clean trauma scenes, and a rolling cart could be the dolly that I use for the heavy bins. I wasn't even thinking about my work. I was only focusing on a guy who might be a murderer. I came here to get answers about him."

Maeva merely shrugged. Then she dug in her desk drawer for a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out for herself, and offered one to Sadie, who declined. Maeva lit her smoke and looked thoughtful.

"I don't know what to say. You of all people should know this kind of thing isn't scientific. All I can tell you is I gave you the information that I received, and the response felt right when I gave it."

"You said you don't know why he did it, but I wasn't even focusing on why Kent did it. I'm not even sure I care. I just really need to find him and clear my name about the diamond brooch and put him in jail for murder!"

"Who's Kent?" Maeva asked, taking a hard pull on her cigarette and blowing the smoke out in a long stream.

"The man I came to ask about! The one I focused on!" Sadie shouted. With exasperation she got to her feet. "This was a complete waste of time."

"Wait a second," Maeva said. "I don't know about this Kent guy. When I said I don't know why he did it, I was picking up on someone else. Another person and question you were focused on."

"Who? What question?"

"You were wondering why Brian did it-why your brother killed himself."

Maeva pressed EJECT on the recorder and handed the tape to Sadie.

Sadie stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights. She swallowed thickly and said, "I've got to go."

Sadie's fingers still tingled when she started her car. She drove around aimlessly as she mulled over what Maeva had said. Her directionless driving landed her parked once again on the street in front of Kent Lasko's house. There was still no sign of life.

She dug out the ca.s.sette tape of Madame Maeva's psychic reading from her pocket and slipped it into her car system. Maeva's smoker's voice filled the car with her annoying humming. The entire session was less than five minutes, and Sadie punched the OFF b.u.t.ton when it ended. Her stomach roiled with apprehension and the hairs on her arms stood up when Maeva mentioned Brian's name.

She used her cell to dial Dawn's number and didn't bother with a friendly greeting.

"Did you tell Maeva about Brian?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Did you tell that crazy psychic about our brother killing himself?"

"Of course not! Why would I say anything to Madame Maeva about Brian?"

"Then it must've been Chloe."

"She wouldn't do that."

"Check. Call her right now and see if she said something about Brian when she got you that gift certificate for the Psychic Cafe."

"What's going on, Sadie?"

"Just call her and then call me back on my cell."

Sadie pulled away from Kent's street and drove to a small convenience store. She went inside and bought a Diet c.o.ke and a chocolate bar.

Dawn called back while she was munching the candy. "Chloe never said anything to Maeva about Brian. She arranged the appointment with the girl up front and gave only our first names for the appointment. That's it."

"Do you believe her?" Sadie asked.

"Of course I believe her! Now what the h.e.l.l is this all about?"

"Later. I've got to go."

She took a bite of the sweet chocolate, and as she chewed she listened to the tape one more time. She stopped it when Maeva said, You were wondering why Brian did it-why your brother killed himself.

Had she really been thinking about Brian? As she washed a mouthful of chocolate down with soda, she had to admit that a part of her was always thinking about Brian and asking that question. Five years had pa.s.sed and she was no closer to an answer.

By the time she had finished her Diet c.o.ke, she was willing to admit that Maeva had something. What she had, Sadie wasn't sure. Sadie was annoyed that she'd expected Maeva to offer up help. She doubted the psychic could use psychic powers to locate Kent Lasko. Turned out it had been asking too much.

Sadie put her car in gear and drove back over to Lasko's house. She'd been sitting in her car scowling at the house for about ten minutes when she noticed the elderly next-door neighbor, Captain of the Neighborhood Watch, giving her the hairy eyeball from his living room window. Figuring that he might follow through on his earlier threat to call the cops on her, Sadie started her car. She was just about to drive away when an older-model Sunbird whipped into the Lasko driveway and Christian Lasko hopped out.

Quick as a bunny, Sadie cranked the wheel of her car and parked directly behind the Sunbird. She jumped out of her car and jogged up to greet Christian, who dropped his keys in surprise when he spied her approaching.

"I thought you were out of town," Sadie called out as she quick-stepped up behind him.

"Out of town? Why did you think that?" He offered a tense smile over his shoulder while he s.n.a.t.c.hed up his keys and jammed one into the lock.

Sadie just laughed loudly and maniacally. This caused Christian to look extremely anxious.

"Kent's not home," he said over his shoulder.

He stepped inside and tried to shut the door, but she put her hand up to stop it.

"I'll leave him a message that you dropped by. He'll call you when he gets back," Christian said.

"When he gets back from hiding?"

"No, when he gets back from Tahoe." He looked at her strangely. "His buddy has a place there. He called last night and asked Kent to come up, so Kent booked himself the first flight out. He'd live on skis if he could. I drove him to the airport when I got back from my night shift."

"You know what I think?" Sadie asked, not giving a d.a.m.n if he wanted to hear her opinion or not. "I think Kent took off to avoid dealing with me and the police. He left town because he knew I'd be hunting him down and wanting to kill him for what he did."

Christian's eyes got big, and then they got angry. "Get out of here."

He tried to close the door, but Sadie held it firm.

"I want that emerald pendant," she said. "The one Kent took from Trudy's house. I'm going to give it to Mrs. Toth. He had no right to take it, and I'm not taking any chances that he might try and plant it on me to make the police think that I was the one who stole it! Hand it over."

"You're crazy," Christian said. He opened the door wide, throwing Sadie off balance, then thrust the palm of his hand out, pushed her back a step, and forcefully slammed the door shut with a loud bang. She heard the dead bolt slide into place as he shouted, "Leave, or I'll call the cops!"

That hadn't gone nearly as well as she had planned. As she walked back toward her car, she noticed the elderly neighbor giving her a surly look between his drapes. Sadie was tempted to show him her middle finger. Instead, she went grocery shopping for more junk food and then straight home.

She didn't sleep well that night-and it wasn't just because she'd consumed a lot of Cheetos. Ever since Brian had decided to eat his gun, she'd had a recurrent dream that she was running to his house to try and stop his impending suicide, but she was always too late. She woke from the dream panting and exhausted, as if she'd run a marathon. She hadn't had the dream in months, but Maeva's comments and the horrible events of the last few days had stirred her thoughts to go to that dark place.

When the morning dawned and Seattle's mountain view was once again blocked by gray and gloom, it matched Sadie's mood perfectly. She dragged her a.s.s to her van with a travel mug of scalding coffee and wound her car down the I-5 to the Yenkows' house. Zack was already there, busy setting up the ionizer to deodorize the place.

"If I'd realized you were going to be such a go-getter today, we could've driven in together," she said.

"I tried to call, but I only got your voice mail," he explained. "I figured you were already here."

"d.a.m.n. It's my new cell phone. I seem to accidentally shut it off when I don't even realize it." She looked around the room. "After you're finished with the ionizer, you can take the rest of the day for yourself. There's not much left to do, and I can finish up."

"That's your way of saying you don't want me around," Zack replied. When she started to protest, he held up a hand. "That's okay. You've been going through a lot. I don't blame you for wanting some time alone. As a matter of fact, maybe you should take the day off. You look like s.h.i.t."

"Thanks," she said sarcastically.

Sadie sat down on a nearby sofa and scrubbed her hands through her hair thoughtfully.

"He did it, Zack. Kent killed them and made it look like a murder-suicide. I've been racking my brain and trying out different scenarios, but I just can't figure out how he did it."

Zack pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. The lines around his eyes deepened, and he looked older than his forty years.

"Sadie, I'll say it again: If all the evidence points to a murder-suicide, then that's exactly what it was. Stop looking for more. This guy Kent probably has his own agenda that's all about making sure you don't broadcast his affair."

Sadie got to her feet and began walking around the living room, looking at it with fresh eyes to make sure she hadn't missed anything.

"Okay, if he didn't kill Trudy or Grant, why would he steal that diamond brooch and put it in my coat?"

"People are generally crazy," he said, joining her in squinting at the floor from different angles. "Stop looking for an explanation. The guy might have taken the pin as some kind of souvenir of their affair, or maybe he thought he could p.a.w.n it for cash. h.e.l.l, he could be a kleptomaniac who panicked when he realized that what he had was worth real money." He shrugged. "This is not your problem. Stay out of it."

Tears sprang to her eyes and she rubbed them away. Zack came closer and wrapped his arms around her. For a second, she allowed herself to feel warm and secure in his embrace. Then she pulled roughly away.

"Thanks for listening to me go on about this," she said quickly when she saw his hurt look. "You're a good friend."

"Right," he said abruptly.

They dusted off the near emotional upset and went to work to set up the rest of the deodorizing equipment. Then they removed the bins, which would go into locked storage until waste pickup.

This time Sadie felt the drive back to Seattle was almost cathartic. The traffic on the I-5 was uncharacteristically easygoing-n.o.body cut her off or hugged her b.u.mper. By the time she got home, she felt relatively relaxed. She powered up her computer and tackled the paperwork that had been begging for attention for weeks.

She called a couple of insurance companies that needed reminders to send her a check for jobs done in previous months and paid a few of her own bills. Once the pile of paper had been reduced by half, she rewarded herself by playing a few mindless rounds of FreeCell.

When the phone rang, she was grateful for the distraction as she reached for the receiver.

"We need to talk."

"Who is this?" Sadie asked.

"Maeva Morrison."

She could hear the woman dragging on her cigarette and blowing out smoke.

"I can't think of anything we need to talk about," Sadie replied with complete honesty.

"Well, too bad. You left something behind last time you were here."

"What?"

"Your ghosts."

"Okaaaay," Sadie said and laughed in spite of herself. "Maeva, how do I put this in a polite way-have you been smoking crack?"

"I just had a seance. It's a monthly event I put on for a local well-to-do family. They get together with me to try and make contact with their dead father."

"Don't you feel the least bit guilty for taking advantage of their grief by taking their money?" Sadie inquired.

"Get a grip. They're just hoping Good Old Dad will reveal the whereabouts of the valuables he stashed before he died."

"Okay, but I really don't see what any of this has to do with me."

"Usually the father's spirit shows up and offers hints and riddles. He's quite a jokester and in no hurry to lead his lazy family to his fortune, but he gives them just enough to offer them hope and keep them coming back for more."

"How fun for both you and him," Sadie drawled sarcastically. "And?"