Dead Suite (9 page)

They turned on some music but mostly they sat in silence in the living room as they
drank. Sadie glanced at Owen at the opposite end of the sofa.

What was I thinking inviting him in?

He looked deep in thought and Sadie wondered if he was thinking about her. Specifically,
she hoped he wasn’t wondering what kind of woman fainted in haunted houses, cleaned
crime scenes, helped with ghosts, kept a rabbit as a pet, and attracted maniacs who
left fingers on her car as a presents. She felt a sudden need to defend herself.

“Just so you know, I don’t usually faint and have people leave me amputated digits
as gifts.”

“Not to mention your friends showing you that a ghost wrote your name on a wall of
my house.” He slid down the sofa so they were next to each other. “No wonder you passed
out. That must’ve freaked you out.”

Actually, that part bothered her the least. She was used to ghosts. It was the living
that gave her the willies. In particular, having Owen sitting so close that their
thighs touched.

“Guess I’ll be driving the company van for a few days,” she said lightly, just wanting
to make conversation.

“At least you have a spare vehicle.” It was a small comment but it packed power since
it was whispered in a sexy, throaty voice into her ear.

“Yes, well.” Sadie cleared her throat. “I have to attend dinner at my mom’s house
tomorrow and she hates it when I show up in the trauma-clean van.”

“I imagine that might be a little disconcerting for a mom to know her daughter deals
with trauma all day.”

Owen took her glass of beer from her hand and placed it on the coffee table in front
of them.

“Family can be difficult,” he continued. “Gayla Woods might be my age, but she reminds
me of my mother.” He placed small butterfly kisses along the side of her throat and
Sadie held her breath. “Don’t tell her I said so, but my partner’s a pain in the ass.”

“She’s comes across as quite the serious businesswoman,” Sadie said, her voice catching
as his breath heated up her skin. She began to ramble. “Maybe you should stop buying
haunted houses in disrepair then fixing them up for a profit.”

“Disrepair, yes. Haunted, no.” He nibbled her earlobe and Sadie let out a small moan.
Soon they were horizontal on the sofa and Sadie’s thoughts were flip-flopping between
“Oh my God, YES!” and “No, no, no . . . what about Zack?”

She pushed Owen away long enough to speak breathily against his lips.

“I was just thinking . . .”

“Well, stop.”

Sadie thought that was good advice, and she sighed as he slipped his hand under her
shirt and caressed her breast. She reached between them to unbutton his shirt, catching
a glimpse of a tattoo over his heart under a cluster of blond curls. Sadie unbuttoned
his shirt more and pulled it open to see the word “Orcus” in blue over red flames.

“What does it mean?” she asked, tracing the outline of the tattoo with her finger.

“It means I was a college boy studying mythology and consuming far too much vodka,”
Owen said with a breathy chuckle.

Owen slid his body down hers. He opened the front of her blouse and momentarily played
with the circular pendant lying in her cleavage. She glanced down and saw him reading
the words on the back.

“It’s some kind of good-luck thingamajig,” she said breathlessly.

“Hmm. If you say so.”

He pushed the necklace aside, unsnapped her bra and began leaving wet, sizzling kisses
on Sadie’s breasts. She groaned softly, closed her eyes, and behind her lids she saw
Zack’s face.

“I . . . I can’t.” Sadie sat up so abruptly she toppled Owen onto the floor. He bumped
the coffee table and deftly steadied her glass of beer before it spilled.

“I am sooo sorry.” She rearranged her clothes and ran her fingers through her mussed
hair.

“No harm done. Although I nearly spilled your beer, and that would’ve been a real
shame.”

He winked at her and offered Sadie a sincere smile as he buttoned his shirt and tucked
it into his pants. He looked better mussed then dressed up, and that thought almost
made her want to drag him back onto the sofa. But she didn’t.

Owen bent down and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“Guess I’ll get going.”

“Um. Okay.” She walked him to the door. “Thanks for the ride,” Sadie said, then added,
“And for the dinner.”

“Dinner was all on Gayla.” He paused to place a brief, chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Sorry about the finger and—” She shrugged. “About not . . . you know.”

“No need to apologize. The finger thing wasn’t your fault, and this”—he pointed at
Sadie and then back at himself—“was just too fast.” He shrugged. “See you tomorrow
night.”

“Tomorrow?” Sadie frowned.

“Didn’t Gayla tell you? Rosemary and Rick Thingvold are doing some kind of purification
ritual tomorrow, and since you agreed to be on the payroll I’m guessing Gayla expects
you there.”

Sadie opened the front door and, at the same time, felt like she’d also opened Pandora’s
box.

Chapter 5

Sadie woke up the next morning with the vague recollection of a fiery dream involving
Zack’s face and Owen’s body. She took a long, cool shower before checking her messages.
The only person who’d called was her sister, Dawn, reminding her about dinner and
saying she’d call again later.

She tossed Hairy’s mini stuffed bunny around for a minute but the rabbit was too intelligent
to have ever believed in the game of fetch. Sadie gave him fresh water and refilled
his kibble before getting dressed up for a return to the Bay Eminence Hotel. Even
though the only thing she had to do there was pick up her ozone generator, she needed
to maintain her businesswoman-from-out-of-town look as part of her agreement with
Eminence manager Herbert Sylvane.

Sadie arrived at the hotel just after noon dressed in a gray knit dress and kitten
heels and pulling a large suitcase behind her. She walked down the hall to the right
of the front desk and knocked twice on Herbert’s office door before trying the knob
and finding it locked.

“You looking for Father Herb?” asked an older Hispanic woman carrying a huge stack
of mail.

“Um. Herbert Sylvane?” Sadie said.
Father Herb?

“Right, that’s what I mean.” She nodded. “He’s around the hotel somewhere. I saw him
heading up the elevator a minute ago. Do you want me to leave him a note?”

“That’s okay,” Sadie said. She turned to leave but then couldn’t resist asking, “Is
that his nickname? Father Herb?”

“Oh that.” She waved a hand in the air. When Sadie offered her a blank stare the woman
added, “I heard he was a priest before he came to work in the hotel biz.”

“Really?” Sadie was stunned. She’d never heard of anybody becoming a priest and then
leaving that life to run a hotel.

It just seemed odd. Sadie must’ve looked curious because the woman continued , “It
was a long time ago, and I don’t think he likes to talk about it. So, if you don’t
mind, maybe don’t mention I told you.”

“No problem.”

Sadie walked away thinking she’d talk to Herbert Sylvane on her way out. She rolled
her extra-large Samsonite behind her as she headed across the lobby to the elevators
and then up to the tenth floor. She made her way down the hall, and this time she
used the key card she’d kept to open the door to the crime-scene room, as there was
no reason to enter through the adjoining room she’d used as a safe zone.

When she opened the door and she encountered Herbert Sylvane in the doorway.

The hotel manager jumped back a couple feet, then placed his hand on his double-breasted,
tweed heart and cursed like a sailor.

“You scared the frickin’ hell out of me!” he hissed.

“Sorry.” Sadie wheeled her suitcase inside and closed the door with both of them inside.
“I’m just collecting the ozone generator.” She nodded to the machine proudly sucking
in bad air and blowing out good.

“Oh.” Herbert looked like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, and Sadie
noticed he had a small sack in one hand that he quickly stuffed into his suit pants.
“I’ll leave you to it then.”

He coughed into his hand to clear his throat and then absently smoothed his unwrinkled
suit jacket.

“I was just following up and checking the room,” he added. “The new mattress and box
spring are due to be delivered tomorrow along with the carpeting and underlay to replace
the area you removed. Thanks for all your work here,” he said, at the door. “I guess
you won’t be back again?”

He looked impossibly hopeful.

“Not unless you get another dead body here,” Sadie smirked. “If you do, I’m your gal.”

“Right. Okay.” Herbert chuckled good-naturedly. “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

Then he left speedily like his ass was on fire. He certainly wasn’t the first grown
man Sadie had seen with an aversion to being in a room where someone had died. The
thought had her find the necklace around her throat and she wondered about Hugh Pacheo
and how he was handling his son’s death.

She found it curious that Herbert Sylvane would be at the murder scene, but she realized
that he couldn’t avoid the room entirely. Sadie imagined that Herbert, as the hotel
manager he couldn’t exactly rent out the room until he’d seen for himself what still
needed to be done. Then again, he might’ve merely been curious and was embarrassed
about being caught peeking at a crime scene. Or maybe he’d just come in to take a
coffee break and watch a little porn. Sadie didn’t know and didn’t care what an ex-priest
did in his spare time.

Once she’d unplugged her ozone generator, Sadie placed the machine inside her oversized
suitcase and left her room key on the dresser. When she was leaving, she took the
time to flip the plastic door hanger to say M
AID,
C
LEAN THIS ROOM NOW
.

Truthfully, the room had
never
been as clean as it was after Sadie gave it a scrub, but this way everyone knew she
was finished.

Sadie took the elevator with her heavy suitcase. Back in her vehicle, she headed for
home and answered a brief call from Dawn.

“Don’t forget you’re bringing the salad for dinner tonight,” Dawn said.

“I didn’t forget.” Sadie snatched up a tiny scrap of paper from the passenger seat
and scribbled a reminder to pick up salad fixings, then jammed the note next to the
speedometer. “I can’t stay late.”

“Don’t worry about that. Dylan finally sleeps through the night if we get him into
his own bed by eight o’clock, so trust me, we aren’t night owls either,” Dawn remarked.
“Are you working tonight?”

“Yeah.” Sadie thought about the purification ritual scheduled at Halladay Street.
“Kind of.”

“Okay, remember the rules about—”

“Yes, I know. I’m not supposed to talk about crime-scene cleanup, ghosts, or basically
anything that concerns my day-to-day life in front of Mom,” Sadie snipped. “Is my
love life off-limits too?”

“Why, is Zack back in town? Is he coming to dinner tonight? Oh my God. You’re getting
serious again, aren’t you?” Dawn gasped. “Did he propose? Again? Did you finally say
yes?”

Sadie sighed. “No to all of those questions and yeah, let’s just keep that topic off
our discussion list too.”

“Oh. That’s too bad. I take it there’s trouble in paradise?” Dawn asked.

“Sis, you can call my love life a lot of things, but I don’t think paradise would
cover it.” Her phone beeped that another call was coming in. “Gotta go. See you at
five.”

The other call was from Maeva.

“Rosemary and Rick are thrilled you’re coming to the séance tonight.”

“Séance? I thought it was a purification ritual.”

“No, they already tried purification and decided to draw the spirit out instead. Regardless,
they’re totally over the moon that you’re coming tonight!”

“They’re over the moon on a regular basis,” Sadie remarked. “I’m thinking way past
the moon and into another universe or dimension altogether.”

“Very funny. What made you change your mind?”

“Gayla and Owen took me out to dinner last night to convince me, and they offered
to pay me double my usual rate.”

“So you wouldn’t do it out of friendship but you could be bought?” Maeva joked.

“Basically, yes. I’m a whore that way. Are you going?”

“Yes, because they need six.”

“Six what?”

“Six people. It’s best if it’s divisible by three,” Maeva explained. “Originally it
was going to be the Thingvolds and Louise, which was three, but once they heard you
were coming there needed to be more.”

“I haven’t seen Louise in a while. Does she still burn places down?”

“She still smudges but I think it’s been a while since she set fire to an entire building.”

“Good to know.” Sadie brought the Scene-2-Clean van to a stop at a red light. “So
with you, me, Louise, and the Thingvolds we’ve got five. Who else?”

“They wanted Gayla but she’s unavailable, so Owen is coming.”

Sadie felt her skin get hot at the mere mention of Owen’s name.

“Why did you suddenly get so quiet?” Maeva asked. Sadie heard Osbert fussing in the
background. “Hold that thought while I put a nipple in this kid’s mouth.”

“Thanks for the visual,” Sadie remarked.

When the crying stopped Maeva asked, “What’s up with you? I’m getting a bad vibe.
And considering I hardly get any vibes about anything anymore, please don’t tell me
it’s nothing.”

“It is nothing. My life is in the crapper. Like usual.”

“Please elaborate. I need to live vicariously through someone who’s more than a milkmaid.”

Sadie launched into the explanation about the finger stuffed in a baggie found on
her windshield, followed by her breakup of the nonrelationship with Zack, and concluded
with the near-sex experience with Owen.

“This is why I love you,” Maeva stated at the end. “You pack more living into one
evening than I’ve managed to pack into the last year.”

“Not true. You created an entire human being and squeezed him out of your body and
that’s pretty amazing. A lot more amazing than the fact that I’m basically a Typhoid
Mary when it comes to anything romantic.”

“Well, the good news is that at the séance, if we don’t have any ghosts to entertain
us, at least there’ll be sexual tension between you and Owen to add gusto to the evening.”

“Oh joy. I’m thrilled my life is a never-ending source of amusement for you.”

“By the way, I’ll be seeing you at your mom’s for dinner. I met Dawn for coffee this
morning and she invited me to come. Terry’s working but he made a kick-ass cheesecake
for me to bring for dessert.”

Now that her friend Maeva had four-month-old Osbert and Dawn had eighteen-month-old
Dylan, the two mothers had become friends. Sadie had mixed feeling about the fact
that her best friend and sister had bonded over episiotomies and cracked nipples.
It made her feel left out.

“If Terry’s working tonight, what are you doing with Osbert during the séance after
dinner?”

“Don’t worry about that. Terry said his catering job should only go ’til eight. We
can drop off Osbert on the way.”

Sadie ended the call with Maeva just in time to get another call from Detective Petrovich.

“I just got a call from the manager of the Pacifica,” he told her. “She was checking
your references and I told her you were the best blood-’n’-guts cleaner out there.
We’ll be finishing up there today.”

“Thanks for the reference,” Sadie said. She pulled her company van into her garage
and continued talking. “Any news when I can get my car back?”

“We’ve dusted it and gone over every inch of that car.” He paused. “There were old
French fries under the driver’s seat.”

“What can I say? I can clean the hell out of a crime scene, but my car is another
matter.” She walked inside her house through the garage and headed to her bedroom.

“That car is a hazardous-waste dump.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Sadie chuckled, but her mirth abruptly turned to sadness.
Zack had always taken the time to vacuum and wash her car. Tears stung her eyes. She
took a deep breath and continued. “So you got May’s finger to be buried with the rest
of her? I’m sure her spirit will be happy that all the body parts are together.”

“You know I can’t say whether or not it was May’s finger,” he said in a clipped cop
tone.

Sadie and Petrovich had done this dance of information before. He was a great detective
who wouldn’t share information about a case. On the other hand, when he wanted Sadie
to know something, he had a way of telling her.

“Hold on a second.” Sadie paused in front of her closet. “You mean the finger
doesn’t
belong to May Lathrop?”

Sadie opened her closet to look for something she could wear to both dinner with her
mom and the séance afterward. Something virginal enough to appease Mom, dark enough
to wear for a séance, and, perhaps, slutty enough to attract Owen’s wanton gaze.

When the detective didn’t respond right away, Sadie turned away from her closet.

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“I can’t discuss—”

“This involves me, Dean!” Sadie shouted. “Some crazy-ass killer chopped off a finger
and left it for
me
!”

“You need to be careful, Sadie,” Petrovich said seriously. “And if you were to Google
chopped-off prostitute fingers
you might find out more than you should. . . . Not that you heard it from me.” He
paused before saying seriously, “You know that house alarm you hardly ever use? Start
using it.”

He disconnected the call, leaving Sadie with chills that were not about to be made
all better by a night of sparring with her mom and séancing with mediums.