Dead Suite (12 page)

“Right. Hello, 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 reassured 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 reassured 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, bloody 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 séance 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 assistance
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! Hello!” The manager of the Eminence Hotel looked completely taken aback by Sadie’s
presence.

“Hi,” Sadie replied with a bright smile.

“Thanks for everything, Bev,” he called over his shoulder. “Let’s do lunch soon.”

He hustled away down the hall, and Sadie poked her head inside the office.

“Ms. Hummel?” Sadie said in a tone that faltered just a little after having been startled
by seeing Herbert.

“Come in, come in!” she called, waving her over to the desk.

Bev Hummel was exactly how Sadie had pictured her on the phone. She was the other
side of fifty with gray frosting her temples and otherwise dark hair. She smiled at
Sadie but her eyes and the gray wool suit she wore both said she was a serious woman
and the smile was automatic politeness.

Sadie reached across the massive mahogany desk and shook her hand.

“I guess you saw Herbie on your way out?”

Herbie?
Seriously?

“Um. Mr. Sylvane? Yes.”

“Sit.” Bev indicated a stiff-backed chair that looked just about as comfy as the stilettos
Sadie wore only once.

“The hotel business is surprisingly tight-knit. When I called to check your references
we got to talking about other hotels we’ve worked at. Our paths have crossed frequently
over the years.” She smiled warmly. “He’s dealt with serious security issues in hotels
before, so I decided to invite him here so I could pick his brain, so to speak, and
compare notes on how to make things safer.”

“I’m sure you both find it concerning that these women were killed at your hotels,”
Sadie responded. She wanted to tell her that no amount of beefing up security would
stop someone from cutting up a hooker in their room, but she didn’t go there. People
needed to believe that they had control over these kinds of things when, usually,
they didn’t.

“Thanks for your quick e-mail,” Sadie added. “I’ve already contacted the insurance
head office and will send them photos as well as my estimate as soon as I get an idea
of what exactly we’re dealing with. Speaking of that, I should probably just head
upstairs.” Sadie looked pointedly at her watch. “Your staff will have already brought
up my equipment from my vehicle. I know you want this completed as soon as possible,
so if I can get the room key from you, I’ll get started.”

“Of course.” Bev opened her desk drawer and handed Sadie two slim key cards. “I’ve
taken the liberty of having your room stocked with refreshments.”

Sadie thanked her and then made her way back across the ornate lobby, rolling her
suitcase behind her. The elevator was small and slow but Sadie took a moment to get
herself in the right frame of mind. She was walking into a bloodbath and, although
this was her bread and butter, she still needed to be mentally prepared.

Once inside the cozy room that connected to the crime scene, Sadie admired the plush
duvets and heavy ornate draperies. A little much for her taste, but Sadie could be
comfy here for the night. If ever money was no object. She glanced at the corner table
that was heavily laden with the refreshments the manager had mentioned. Bev had arranged
for a fine array of fresh fruit and finger sandwiches along with bottled water and
a massive carafe of coffee. Although briefly considering it, Sadie knew it wasn’t
wise to give in and take a coffee break before actually doing any work.

The hotel staff had delivered a heaping stack of her gear and piled the bins, ozone
generator and cleaning supplies in one corner. Sadie went over to the pile and checked
to make sure she had everything she’d probably require.

The first thing Sadie needed to do was to take photos of the scene for files and for
the insurance company. She slipped her suitcase onto the bed and pulled out her hazmat
gear and comfortable sweats and T-shirt. Once dressed from the top of her head (respirator)
to the tips of her toes (shoe covers), Sadie snagged her camera and slid back the
dead bolt that separated the room she was in from the crime scene beyond.

In addition to being mentally primed for the homicidal carnage inside, Sadie was also
prepared for the likely possibility there would be a female ghost missing her finger.
Even with all that emotional readiness, Sadie was staggered by what greeted her when
she walked inside.

Welcoming Sadie were three female ghosts. One fully clothed and two naked and in various
forms of decay and dismemberment.

Chapter 8

Sadie ignored them. Not easy to do when you have a couple of excited, naked women
vying for your attention. Even though they were dead, they were very much in Sadie’s
face, and there were some things you just couldn’t unsee once they were burned into
your retinas. Silicone-enhanced breasts covered in blood was one of those things.

Sadie snapped the photos of the massacre that she needed for her records and to send
off to the hotel’s insurance company. She surveyed the scene as a person well trained
in disinfecting blood-borne pathogens. There was considerable damage caused by the
substantial amount of blood. She realized immediately she was bound to be short on
supplies, and her mind went to work calculating all that would be required. Not long
ago she would’ve had at least two other Scene-2-Clean employees helping her on a scene
like this one. Now, thanks to the economy and Zack, she was flying solo.

Absently, she shooed flies away from her respirator as she worked. A fly can smell
dead flesh from over a mile away and one fly can lay about fifty eggs, which hatch
within twenty-four hours. Those hungry maggots were writhing and wriggling at a buffet
of blood soup at Sadie’s feet. Soon they’d end their lives in her vacuum bag.

Once she had the photos she needed, there was an overwhelming sense of the job that
lay ahead of her. The physical sweat would be difficult but the emotional toil of
dealing with multiple ghosts was bound to be draining. She’d have to reach inside
for the tricks she once used to control a classroom as a primary school teacher. Except
a couple of these students had bits of flesh hanging off them and were naked.

Sadie headed back into the other room, assigned as her safe zone. She doffed her gear
and poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe. Then she called Detective Petrovich.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me there were multiple victims at the Pacifica!”
Sadie said, exasperated.

“Who told you that?”

“Nobody
told
me.” She sipped her coffee. “I know it’s easier if you just pretend I don’t do anything
beyond crime-scene cleanup, and Lord knows it’s easier on me that way too, so let’s
just say a little birdie told me.”

He paused. “I can’t talk about a scene with you, but why don’t you tell me what you
know.”

“What I know is there are three women in that room and a helluva lot of blood.”

“Three? You’re sure?” he barked.

“Unless there was someone under the bed or in the closet, then yes, I’m pretty damn
sure the magic number is three,” Sadie snapped in return. She rubbed the back of her
neck as the reality of Petrovich’s question sunk in. “You didn’t find three bodies,
did you?”

“No.” She could hear the frustration and lack of sleep in his voice. “There were two.”

“Either one of them belong to the finger on my windshield?” Sadie asked.

“DNA is being rushed but it’s still got a couple weeks to go. The room was a bloodbath.”

“You’re telling me?” Sadie remarked dryly. “I get the job of mopping it up.”

“I’m just saying we took samples everywhere.”

“So you found two girls and I’m expecting you’ll come back with three types of DNA.
You want I should go in and ask the girls what their blood type is? Would that help?”

“And then what? Down the road I testify that the blood-’n’-guts cleanup girl, who
talks to the dead, confirmed blood type with the victims? Jesus H. Christ!” he growled.
“You’re making my head hurt. How about I do my job and you just do yours?”

“Fine,” Sadie said sulkily.

Before she could hang up, Petrovich stopped her.

“Sadie?”

“Yeah?”

“Get their names.”

Then the phone went dead in her hand.

While she drank her coffee and nibbled a small cucumber sandwich for strength, Sadie
called down to Bev Hummel. The manager wasn’t in her office so Sadie left a message
explaining that the room had considerable damage.

“Although it’s more significant than I first expected,” Sadie explained to the voice
mail, “I’ll work as long and hard as I can today and even through the night.” Then
she remembered her meeting scheduled with Gayla at six. “Although, I will be taking
a brief break to meet with an associate at six this evening.” She ended with, “I will
contact you later with an update as to my progress.”

Once she’d ended the call she reluctantly donned her hazmat gear and prepared for
what lay in the connecting room. She knew that she’d never get blood work done until
she dealt with the female ghosts hogging the spotlight.

Sadie decided she’d tackle the most pressing problem first, but when she stepped into
the room, only two out of three were present. The clothed woman had vanished.

Sitting on the blood-soaked bed and arguing viciously were two women with similar
features. They were both early twenties with straight-ironed chestnut hair midway
down their backs and exceptionally large, enhanced breasts. In addition to sporting
multiple stab wounds, both women were missing the pointer fingers from their right
hands.

Sadie cleared her throat loudly through her respirator and the two broke off their
argument to turn and look at her.

“I told you she could see us,” one said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“We’re dead,” the other countered. “So nobody can see us. Duh!”

“I can see you but yes, you are dead,” Sadie announced.

“Told you!” the first proclaimed and tried to shove the other, but her hands went
straight on through.

Then they were both shouting questions at her at once until Sadie held up her hands
to silence them.

“I do trauma cleanup and the hotel hired me to clean the mess here,” Sadie began.
“I can also sometimes see and speak to the dead if they haven’t gone over.”

“What a weirdo,” the first said to the second, attempting to elbow her in the ribs.

“Yeah!” The second girl snorted loudly.

Oh brother
. “I can hear you. I’m right here,” Sadie announced.

“So what? What are you going to do? Hit us?” the second girl laughed and they tried
pummeling each other in a comical slap-and-tickle way but their hands just dropped
through to the bed they were sitting on.

“Hey!” Sadie called out. “I hate to break up the party, but I’ve got a job to do and
part of that job is helping you move on!”

“Who says we want to move?”

“Yeah!” added the second, waving a hand to indicate the room. “Look how gorgeous this
place is! For a year we’ve been sharing a one-room apartment with rusty pipes and
a busted fridge. This place is like heaven.”

Sadie tilted her head at the two. “But you can’t use anything here. You’re ghosts.
Wouldn’t you rather move on to where you’re supposed to be?”

The resounding reply to that question was “Nope!”

It took Sadie a few minutes of convincing, but finally the girls reluctantly admitted
that haunting an old hotel was somewhat cliché and not exactly a dream come true.

“So, could I at least get your names?” Sadie asked.

The girls introduced themselves as Opal and Olivia. They were sisters, Opal being
one year older. The strip club had passed them off as the Climaxic Duo. The gimmick
worked. Drooling middle-aged men assumed they were twins and the clientele got double
wank for their buck.

A few months ago they’d gone to the next level and had begun accepting invitations
to perform services of a sexual nature above and beyond their acts at the club.

“It was our retirement plan,” Opal stated, flipping her sheet of hair over her shoulder
out of habit.

“It was a stupid idea,” Olivia sneered. “And I told you it was crazy right from the
start. We should’ve stuck with dancing.”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Opal said defensively, giving her sister what would’ve been a
hard slap on the shoulder, if her hand could make contact. “We were on track. By next
year we would’ve been enrolled in esthetician school and only working part time at
the club until we finished the classes.” She turned to Sadie. “You can only be an
exotic dancer for so long before the younger girls crowd you out.”

“I’m twenty and Opal’s twenty-one,” Olivia said evenly. “We had at least a few more
years left dancing.”

“They’d already hired those eighteen-year-old gymnasts!” Opal exclaimed. “They were
hogging all the tips.”

“True,” Olivia admitted. To Sadie she said, “I’m not as flexible as I used to be.”

“And you totally would’ve rocked esthetics,” Opal told her sister.

“True. Waxing is my life,” Olivia stated seriously.

Near as Sadie could tell by the girl’s completely hairless body, she’d been good at
it.

“So after rent and food, we were stashing away almost all our money,” Opal said. “Last
count we had nearly six thousand each and we still had four months to go in our one-year
plan. We were totally on track.”

“So what happened?” Sadie asked. “What can you tell me about the john who picked you
up?”

They offered Sadie identical shrugs.

“We got a text message to show up at a room at this hotel to party,” Opal said.

“Did you recognize the number calling?”

“No, but let me check my phone,” Olivia said, glancing around.

“It would’ve been brought in for evidence, dumbass,” Opal said. “Didn’t you learn
anything from all those
CSI
reruns you love to watch?”

“Oh.” Olivia looked sad. “I loved that frickin’ phone. It was new.”

“So we were drugged up, then killed?” Opal asked.

“Looks that way, and you’re not the first girls to end up like this. We need to stop
this guy,” Sadie said emphatically. Just then the third fully-clothed female ghost
reappeared. “And what about her?” She nodded her chin to indicate the other spirit
who stood quietly at the far end of the room.

The girls looked around.

“Who?” Opal asked.

“Her.” Sadie pointed a finger impatiently to indicate the third spirit, a fully-clothed
young woman.

“I don’t see anyone,” Olivia said.

“Yeah,” Opal added. “Are you messing with us?”

“That’s really uncool,” Olivia said, “trying to scare us like that.”

“She’s right there!”

Sadie turned and walked toward the third spirit. Her features said she was possibly
Hispanic. Her dark hair was tied back in a severe bun, and she wore a chocolate-brown
skirt and blouse with the name
MARLENE
stitched on. The uniform looked similar to the ones the housekeeping staff wore at
the Pacifica, but she looked kind of young to be scrubbing toilets at a hotel. Just
a teenager.

“Were you an employee of the hotel?” Sadie asked her.

Marlene glanced around furtively as if expecting evil around every corner; then she
put up both hands and covered her face with them. Sadie noticed all this spirit’s
fingers remained intact. As a matter of fact, Sadie couldn’t see a single wound on
her body. Marlene turned to leave and was partway through the walls of the hotel room
when Sadie called out to her.

“Stop!” she shouted through her respirator. “I need to know who you are and what happened?
Were you killed with those two?”

Sadie glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Opal and Olivia vanish.

Damn.

“Do you know what happened here? Whoever is doing this has to be stopped. If you know
anything at all . . . ,” Sadie pleaded. “At least tell me who you are so I can help
you.”

The teen shook her head sadly.

“You are in great danger,” Marlene said. When she spoke her voice was so distant and
quiet it was as though she were talking from the opposite end of a long tunnel.

Sadie had had enough of dramatics. First the ridiculous bantering of the Climaxic
Duo, and now the ominous warnings of a haunting housekeeper.

“Why couldn’t this just be a simple suicide?” Sadie muttered to herself. Suicides
didn’t appear to Sadie because they chose to go over to the other side; their spirits
rarely lingered. To Marlene Sadie insisted, “I’m fine. I do trauma cleanup and happen
to be able to speak to the dead, but you don’t have to worry. Whoever did this”—Sadie
waved a hand to indicate the bloody carnage in the room—“he’s gone. You don’t have
to be afraid. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“No.” Marlene gazed at Sadie with a heartrending sadness in her eyes. She shook her
head slowly and continued to speak with a toneless voice echoing from a million miles
away. “He won’t stop.”

Marlene stepped closer and Sadie inadvertently took a step back.

“The police will catch him. He
will
be stopped,” Sadie insisted, a sick feeling churning in her stomach.

“He kills for
you
.”

“No.” Sadie shook her head violently. “That’s impossible. How do you know this? Who
is this guy?”

Her eyes still on Sadie, Marlene’s shoulders slumped. She looked defeated as she took
steps backward until she was against the hotel room wall.

“He is the beast,” Marlene murmured, her eyes locked on Sadie’s. “There is only one
way to stop him from killing others.”

Sadie swallowed thickly.

“How?”

Marlene leaned backward and the wall began to swallow her.

“How do we stop him?” Sadie demanded again.

Marlene’s voice came on a whisper from far away.

“You have to die, Sadie Novak. The beast won’t stop until he has your blood.”