Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Praise for the Mysteries of Wendy Roberts

Devil May Ride

“An excellent, fast-paced read. Wendy Roberts does a wonderful job of mixing humor and danger together. Take one decomp-cleaning, ghost-whispering ex-teacher, toss in an ex-cop possible boyfriend, add in a devil-worshipping gang of bikers, stolen money, and we have one fantastically funny story. . . . I got caught up in the story from the very first page and couldn’t put it down . . . highly, highly recommend this story.”

—ParaNormal Romance

“A fun read . . . a well-told tale by talented author Wendy Roberts that will have you looking for her other books.”

—Reader to Reader Reviews

The Remains of the Dead

“The dark suspense is lightened with witty banter and a breezy writing style that keeps the pages turning.”

—New York Times bestselling author Allison Brennan

“Fast-paced mystery with a paranormal twist. Ms. Roberts delivers tight, crisp dialogue, an exciting plot, and true-to-life characters. If you like CSI, Medium, or Ghost Whisperer, you’ll absolutely love The Remains of the Dead.”

—MyShelf.com

“Roberts has a unique gift: She makes talking to the dead as natural as talking to your neighbor over a cup of coffee. Sadie Novak, who cleans up crime scenes for a living, is a charming new heroine with a great deal of heart. . . . Here’s hoping she comes back soon.”

—Romantic Times

“A fantastic debut! The Remains of the Dead is hip, clever, and fun. Don’t miss this engaging story.”

—National bestselling author Brenda Novak

“A well-told mystery, a healthy dose of the paranormal, and a taste of potential romance will keep you guessing through the twists and turns. The Remains of the Dead leaves readers eager to discover where the next visit with Sadie and her friends will lead.”

—Darque Reviews

“The Remains of the Dead is a clever, humorous take on a fascinating occupation—a fast-paced, one-sitting read. A wonderfully flawed main character and unexpected story twists will keep you turning pages long into the night!”

—Stephanie Bond, author of the Body Movers series

“Wendy Roberts has created an incredibly unique amateur sleuth and a twist at the end of the book that I never saw coming.”

—Jana DeLeon, author of Trouble in Mudbug

“A fascinating, edgy series with a neat paranormal twist! A unique mystery with a great protagonist and an interesting cast of characters.”

—Colleen Gleason, author of The Bleeding Dusk

Also by Wendy Roberts

The Remains of the Dead Devil May Ride

OBSIDIAN

Published by New American Library, a division of
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First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

First Printing, December 2009

Copyright © Wendy Roberts, 2009

All rights reserved

eISBN : 978-1-101-15190-7

OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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http://us.penguingroup.com

For my friend Tracey Warkentin. Thanks for always being in my corner.

I owe much gratitude to the greatest editor in the world, Kristen Weber. Big hugs also to Becky Vinter for catching my errors and to Miriam Kriss for her help.

My trauma clean research is made easier by the expertise of Theresa Borst of Bio Clean Inc.

1

The cemetery smelled of freshly mowed grass. Today Sadie would’ve preferred the pungent stench of body decomposition. She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other and skipped her gaze over the cluster of family and friends to glance upward at the gunmetal sky. She looked anywhere but just ahead of her, at the casket that rested on straps, waiting to be lowered into the gaping hole beneath.

The priest’s voice droned on about how the human body was merely a shell.

Tell me about it, Sadie thought, swallowing a thick lump of emotion.

If anyone knew souls weren’t attached to their bodies, it was Sadie. She lived that truth nearly every day. While Scene- 2-Clean, her trauma clean company, mopped up the physical mess of death, Sadie dealt with the spirits that needed help to move on to the next dimension.

In the back of her mind Sadie thought her firsthand knowledge of spirits and the ethereal dimension should give her comfort at the funeral of a loved one. It didn’t. Tears threatened but she bit them back.

Sadie let out a small, sorrowful sigh, and Zack’s hand found hers. She tensed at first, then relaxed and linked her fingers with his, offering him a grateful smile before turning her gaze to the crowd. Her sister, Dawn, balanced her one-year-old son on her hip and leaned into the embrace of her husband, John. When Dawn’s eyes met Sadie’s, the pain there was so raw that Sadie had to look away.

The priest wrapped up his monotone oration by offering solace to the bereaved, and people began to walk back to their cars. A knot of clouds overhead threatened to turn the warm August day into a soaker. Some mourners paused to comment softly in Sadie’s ear as they embraced her, but their words of comfort dropped like stones at her feet.

For Sadie, the event was like walking through a surreal emotional fog. She couldn’t wait to leave the cemetery, but then, once they arrived at her mom’s house, the emotional cloud was even more suffocating. Mourners came for the wake, and a couple of hours of small talk sandwiched between murmured repetitions of “so sorry for your loss” made Sadie seek out quiet corners to escape. When the crowd thinned to just family, Zack tracked down Sadie as she sipped coffee alone in the kitchen.

“Your mom’s asking where you are. Why don’t you come into the living room with everyone else?” Zack asked. His dark eyes were soft with sympathy and understanding.

“Okay. . . . Um, I just need to use the washroom first,” Sadie replied.

She walked quickly down the hall and wondered how long she could successfully stay hidden in the main bathroom before someone came looking for her. She’d held her emotions together for days. It was a constant battle not to fall apart but she just didn’t want to let the wall down. Not yet.

Sadie used the toilet, flushed, and walked to the sink to splash cold water on her face. She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror, took in the dark circles under her eyes, and then ran damp fingers through her short cropped hair. She’d recently changed her blond highlights to red and was still getting used to the color.

“I liked your hair better before.” The deep male voice spoke up quietly from behind her.

Sadie squeaked in surprise and whirled to face the man.

“Wh-what the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh, I know,” he said, holding up a hand. “You’re a grown woman. I shouldn’t be sneaking up on you in the bathroom. It’s unseemly.”

“It’s not that. . . .” Sadie shook her head slowly from side to side and tried to come up with an easy way to say what needed to be said. “Dad, you shouldn’t be here. You can’t be here. You’re dead.”

Her father tossed back his head and laughed with a throaty guffaw that reminded Sadie of childhood Christmas mornings and Sunday picnics. Tears burned her eyes but she blinked them away.

“It’s true, Dad. You’re dead. Gone. We just put you to rest at Memorial Cemetery.”

“I didn’t raise you to be a fibber, young lady.” His voice was a harsh, reprimanding growl.

Sadie sat down on the toilet seat and blew out an uneasy breath. “You had a heart attack watching Leno.”

“I always knew Jay’s monologue would kill me,” he said with a snort.

At Sadie’s deadpan face, he took a step forward and reached for her. His hand dropped straight through Sadie’s shoulder but he didn’t appear to notice. Sadie shivered with the revulsion that always coursed through her body when spirits attempted to physically touch her.

“Have you had a hit to the head? A fever?” he asked.

Sadie looked up into her father’s gray eyes and shook her head.

“No, Dad.” She locked eyes with him. “I’m serious.”

“That’s ridiculous! How can I be dead? If I was dead, we wouldn’t be able to have this conversation.”

“So you’d think,” she commented drily. At his confused look she took a deep breath and blurted out her usual spiel. “I can see and talk to the dead . . . those who haven’t gone over. It’s a little gift I adopted after Brian died. I see a lot of spirits in the trauma clean business. I try to help them.”

“You’ve been hanging out with that weird psychic friend of yours too much. I always told you if you hang out with dogs, you’ll catch fleas.” He shook an angry finger in her face.

“This has nothing to do with Maeva.”

“Then you’ve been working too long cleaning up crime scenes. What kind of job is that for a young woman anyway? Who on earth has ever heard of a pretty young thing like you mopping up people’s bodily fluids after they’ve been left to rot and—”

“Stop,” Sadie pleaded quietly. She pinched her eyes shut, and a fat tear squeezed beneath her lashes and traced a wet trail down her cheek. “Please. Just stop. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“You need to talk to someone. A shrink. A counselor. Someone. Guess we should’ve gotten you some help after your brother killed himself but—”

“This isn’t about Brian. This is about you!” Sadie raised her voice. “You’re dead! Haven’t you wondered why you haven’t been able to talk to anyone for days, not even Mom? All the people who have been in the house for the last few hours were here for your wake.”

“That’s crazy talk.” He puffed out his cheeks and walked over to the small bathroom sink. “You’re saying I’m a ghost. Well, according to all the old movies I’ve seen, if I was a ghost I wouldn’t be able to see myself in the—”

His words were abruptly cut short because there was no reflection staring back at him in the mirror. The look on his face was first astonishment, followed quickly by fear. Sorrow knifed painfully through Sadie’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“But . . . but how can this be?” he murmured.

His fingers reached out to touch the mirror and simply passed right through. He looked back over at Sadie and quickly vanished.

Sadie knew her father’s spirit wasn’t gone for good. There’d been no shimmer. Years of experience told her that when the spirits she met left for the next dimension permanently, their shapes always shimmered around the edges before slowly dissipating. A quick disappearance like this meant he’d only left the room or was no longer visible to Sadie but not gone over for good.

“You okay in there?” Zack called from the other side of the bathroom door.

“I’ll be right out,” Sadie replied.

She heard Zack walk away, then waited a beat to see whether her dad would return.

“When you’re ready to talk about this, I’ll be around,” Sadie said quietly to the empty room.

She stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the hall to the living room. She saw Dawn hoisting one-year-old Dylan into her arms while John snagged the diaper bag and various toys off the carpet.

“You’re leaving?” Sadie asked. “Already?”

“It’s time for his nap,” Dawn replied.

“He could nap here,” Sadie offered, waving a hand to indicate the bedrooms down the hall.

“It’s just easier if he’s in his own bed,” John explained.

“Maeva and Terry did a great job catering the wake,” Dawn said, shifting Dylan onto her other hip. “They said to say good-bye to you. They were in a hurry because Terry has to cater a wedding in a few hours and Maeva has a séance at her psychic café at four o’clock. She said to let you know that she’ll call you later.”

“Where’s Mom?” Sadie looked around for her mother.

“She went to lie down,” Dawn said. “I think she took one of the sedatives the doctor prescribed.”

At Sadie’s worried look, Dawn added, “She’s going to be fine.”

“Her husband of forty-eight years just died. I don’t think ‘fine’ is the word that covers it,” Sadie said snarkily.

“Easy.” Zack placed a warning hand on her arm.

“That’s not what I meant,” Dawn said reproachfully.

“You know, Sadie, we’ve been with your mother practically every second since your dad died. As a doctor I can tell you this won’t get better overnight. Of course she’s hurting, but she’ll have to be alone eventually,” John stated softly.

“I know that but she shouldn’t be alone today,” Sadie insisted. “Not hours after the funeral.”

“We can stay longer,” Zack said. “We’re not in any rush.”

But Sadie was in a rush. She didn’t want to deal with the naked grief shimmering in her mom’s red-rimmed eyes. It too closely mirrored Sadie’s own pain. Also, she didn’t want to deal with her dead father, whose ghost was for some reason camping out in the bathroom.

“You’ve been avoiding spending one-on-one time with Mom since it happened,” Dawn accused.

“I have not,” Sadie protested, but at Dawn’s piercing glare she relented. “Okay, maybe I have but—”

“Look, I get it,” Dawn said huffily. “You miss him. You’re hurting. But we all miss him and we’re all hurting. You don’t have the market cornered on pain.”

“I never said I did.”

“Well, then don’t act like it,” Dawn bit out.

“You two knock it off,” Dad chimed from the hallway. “Your squabbling will wake up your mother.”

“Shut up,” Sadie hissed.

“You shut up!” Dawn retorted angrily.

Sadie was about to defend herself by explaining that she was only talking to their dead father, but she stopped herself.

“Let’s just go,” John said, taking a now whimpering Dylan from Dawn’s arms and heading for the door with a gentle hand guiding his wife.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Sadie protested lamely, but she didn’t want to follow that up with I was talking to our dead father, who finally decided to come out of the bathroom. John didn’t know about Sadie’s so-called gift and Sadie didn’t want to open that can of rancid worms today of all days.

It wasn’t until Dawn and her little family had left in a huff that Zack spoke.

“So your dad’s ghost is here with us, huh?” His square jaw was set in a look of amusement mixed with resignation. He’d long given up pretending Sadie’s talent was anything but real.

“Yup. He’s here. This day just keeps getting better and better,” Sadie said sarcastically. She eyed her father standing in the corner of the room and her breath caught in her throat. She never thought she’d see him again but this situation wasn’t exactly an answer to a prayer.

“Wait a second.” Dad spoke up. “You mean to tell me that this guy knows about you being able to talk to ghosts but you didn’t bother telling me or your mother?” His voice was colored with hurt.

“Sorry. It’s not the kind of thing I felt comfortable talking to you about,” Sadie said to her father. To Zack she said, “He’s miffed that I never told him about my talking-to-the-dead thing.”

“Hell, sometimes I wish you’d never told me,” Zack said. He slumped into an overstuffed chair. At Sadie’s angry glare, Zack cleared his throat. “I’m kidding. Really. I love everything about you. Your whole communicating-with-ghosts talent makes life, um, interesting.”

“Huh,” Sadie said.

“Tell him to get out of my chair,” Dad said. “I’m dead a few days and that man thinks he can just sit in my chair.”

“That man is Zack Bowman, my boyfriend and co-worker. We live together. You don’t have to act like you’ve forgotten who he is,” Sadie retorted.

“Your dad never did like me,” Zack said, folding his arms angrily over his chest.

“He’s right,” Dad said.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, he just didn’t like the idea that we were living together without getting married,” Sadie said to Zack. “Right?” she asked her dad.

“And I don’t like him sitting in my chair.”

“It’s not like you’re sitting in it,” Sadie said with exasperation.

“Oh yeah?”

Dad walked over and sat right on top of Zack. Of course, Zack had no idea that Ron Novak was sitting sort of on him and kind of through him. Sadie looked over at her father, and through his opaque shape she could see Zack. The image gave her an immediate headache.

“I’ve got to get out of here,” Sadie said with a sigh. “I just can’t deal with this right now. Maybe I’ll get home and find there’s a message about a simple suicide to clean up. That would be nice.”

“But what about your mother?” Zack and Dad said simultaneously.

“I’ll leave her a note and call her later.”

Zack and Sadie barely spoke on the ride home, each alone with his or her own thoughts. Sadie’s thoughts were all centered on guilt. She felt bad for leaving her mom home alone with only a note to say she’d call. She also felt guilty for not dealing with her dad. She could’ve helped him go over to the next dimension, and then it would’ve been done. Now she’d have to deal with it all another time.

Zack pulled his Mustang up their driveway and put it in park. He couldn’t put his car in the garage because Sadie’s Honda and the Scene-2-Clean company van were parked inside. A slight drizzle peppered them as they walked to the front door.

Once in the tidy bungalow they were greeted immediately by the warning squeal of the alarm. Zack went and punched in the code, and Sadie scooped up Hairy, her pet rabbit, and stroked his long, pointy black and white ears and nuzzled him against her face. Hairy’s response was to wriggle free, hop to the floor, and scurry down the hall to the kitchen.

Sadie followed the bunny and took a moment to fill Hairy’s bowl with his pellet food. Then she went to the fridge and reached into the bottom crisper to get him a small cabbage leaf.

Zack reached around Sadie and grabbed a bottle from the open fridge. “Want a beer? There’s one more left.”

“No, I’m good,” she replied.

Sadie tossed the cabbage on top of Hairy’s kibble and watched the rabbit wiggle his nose excitedly as he gobbled up the leaf and then sniffed the kibble with disinterest.

“You wanna talk about it?” Zack asked, twisting the cap off his beer and taking a deep drink.

“About what?”

“Oh, I don’t know. . . . About burying your father today and why you won’t let yourself cry. About hiding out in the back room for most of the wake so you wouldn’t have to talk with anyone. Hey, I know, maybe we could talk about your father’s ghost apparently being left behind and visiting you. Take your pick.”

“That’s a lot of stuff. I don’t think I’m ready to talk about any of it,” she said honestly.

“Okay.” He walked over and gave her a lopsided grin as he hooked his finger in the waistband of her black funeral skirt and pulled her close.

“I’m not ready for that either,” she said drily.

He bent his head and kissed her. It was tender and sweet and made Sadie ache with all the emotions she’d been pushing aside. He whispered gently against her mouth, “I love you.”

“Yeah. Me too,” she breathed, but saying the words made her hurt more. She pulled away. “You know what? I think I’ll go back.”

“To your mom’s?” His eyebrows rose in surprise. “Now?”

“Yeah.” She combed her fingers through her hair. “I don’t think it’s right that she should wake up and find everyone gone. She shouldn’t be alone after she just buried her husband.”

“Okay. Do you want me to come along?”

She shook her head. “That’s okay.” She nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully. “You know, I think I’ll even pack a bag and stay the night with her.”

He nodded. “That would be good. It would give you both a chance to talk. You’ve hardly said anything to each other since you had that blowup over choosing the casket.”

“She wanted to spend over seven grand on one with fourteen-karat-gold-plated accents!” But even as she defended herself, Sadie felt bad about the fight. Hell, if a woman wanted to bury her husband with gold, she should be allowed to, right?

“I’m not saying you were wrong.” Zack reached for a photo album on the kitchen counter and handed it to her. “Why don’t you bring this with you? You could look through it with your mom.”

Sadie smiled and thumbed through the photos of her childhood. Zack had discovered a box of the old pictures when they were cleaning the spare room a few months before, and he’d kindly placed them into an album for Sadie. She paused when she reached a Halloween shot of her grown mother and father dressed as hippies, complete with tie-dyed shirts and peace symbols painted on their faces.

“I don’t think Mom’s even seen this picture,” Sadie said. “Good idea. I’ll bring the album with me. She’ll get a kick out of seeing it.”

“And maybe you can even show it to your dad,” Zack said gently.

Sadie leaned against the kitchen counter and pursed her lips thoughtfully before blowing out a long, slow breath. “You think I should tell her, don’t you?”

“Tell your mom that you can talk to the dead and that your dad happens to be one of them?” He shook his head. “I’m not saying that.”

“But you think I should.”

“I think you should only if you think you should.”

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“You’ve been acting like this ever since my dad died. You’re all sweetness and understanding. It’s sickening. You’ve been backing down from every discussion like you’re pussy whipped.”

“I am not pussy whipped,” he said emphatically, and for the first time in days Sadie heard his regular tone shine through.

“Oh yeah? ’Cause you sound like you’ve totally lost your ability to do anything except say, ‘Yes, dear.’ ”

“Bullshit.”

“Meow.”

“Forget it,” he said, walking over and tapping the tip of her nose with his finger. “I’m not falling for it.”

“For what?” she asked innocently.

“You want me to fight with you because you’ve got all this emotion bottled up over your dad dying and you’ve refused to even let yourself cry over it.” He shook his head. “You’d rather fight than face what’s going on in here.” He tapped her chest over her heart. “Sorry. You’re gonna have to find a different way to deal.”

“Whatever.” She stiffened. “So-o-o, are you going to the gym later?”

His gaze moved away. “Maybe. Why?”

“No reason.” Her voice was calm but she wanted to throw something. Instead, she walked out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom. She angrily stuffed a quick change of clothes into an overnight bag and then went to the bathroom to get her toothbrush.

Zack followed a few steps behind. “You sure you don’t want me to come along?” he asked.

Sadie shook her head sharply. “No. You’ve got the gym and all,” she said with bite.

“Call me later then.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she grabbed the keys for her Honda Accord and headed out through the garage.

She tossed her bag onto the passenger seat and carefully backed out of the garage and around Zack’s Mustang. Soon she was ramping out of her own neighborhood and steering back toward her mother’s house. The more she thought about returning to her mother’s, the more Sadie thought about how to handle her father’s ghost. She decided to look on the bright side. This could be a good thing. A golden opportunity to spend time with Dad and say everything she never got a chance to say when he was alive. Sadie dialed her friend Maeva’s number.

“Thanks for coming today and thank Terry for supplying all the food for the wake,” Sadie told her friend.

“Hey, no problem,” Maeva replied. “Sorry we had to set up the food at your mom’s and leave so quickly. Terry had a wedding and I—”

“Had a séance. Yeah, I know. Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t exactly great company.”

“How are you holding up?” Maeva asked.

The compassion in her friend’s voice made a lump return to Sadie’s throat. Why did every kind word make her feel like crying?

“I need to talk to you,” Sadie said.

“I’m glad to hear you say that. You’ve had me worried. It’s not good for you to keep all your emotions bottled up,” Maeva advised. “I know how you feel. I lost my own dad a few years ago and it was really hard, but you’ve got to let it out.”

“It’s not that,” Sadie said, and then she quickly added, “Well, it’s not just that.” She took a breath. “My dad’s spirit didn’t go over. His ghost is in my mom’s house. I’m on my way back there right now. I guess I should try to talk to him, or something.”

“Oh!” Maeva let out a low whistle. “Scrap what I just said. I don’t know how you feel.”

“Didn’t you ever try to get in touch with your dad after he died?”

“A couple times, but I had no luck so I figured it just wasn’t meant to be. I’m not like you. Once they’ve gone over, it’s up to them whether or not they want to make contact with me. I can put the invitation out there, but that doesn’t mean spirits accept it. You, on the other hand, have the ability to see and talk to them if they haven’t gone over yet.”

“I got Zack to take me home after the wake because I just couldn’t handle seeing my dad there, but now that I’ve had a little time to think about it, I’ve decided to go back. I’m headed there now. I might even stay the night.”

“It’s good you’re going back. Now you can say a proper good-bye to your dad and help him go over.”

Sadie was quiet.

“You are going to help him go over, right?” Maeva persisted. “Just like you do when any other spirit approaches you at one of your death scene cleanup situations?”

“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “This is different.”

“Um. No, it’s not,” Maeva said firmly. “I’m sorry that your dad’s dead, but you gotta help him go over, just like you would any other spirit.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Maeva demanded, her tone becoming heated and angry. “Because he’s dead and because that’s what you do!” She blew out a huffy breath.

“Calm down,” Sadie told her. She felt Maeva’s emotions on this were way out of whack. “It just doesn’t feel right to me. A daughter shouldn’t have to help her father to be permanently dead.”

“It’s better that a stranger does it? Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’ve got to tell you it is so not a good idea,” Maeva said, her tone a little softer.

“What am I thinking?” Sadie asked.

“You’re thinking that keeping your dad in this kind of limbo would be good because this way you could still see him, talk to him, and have a relationship with him.”

“Just for a little while,” Sadie admitted. “How can it hurt?”

“You’re messing with the dead, Sadie. That’s never a good idea.”

2

“Most people would do anything for the chance to talk with a loved one after they’re no longer among the living,” Sadie told her best friend. “When someone dies, people are always saying how they wish they could tell them all that stuff they should’ve said when they were alive.”

“I know,” Maeva replied into the phone. “And that’s exactly why Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café makes such a killing.”

“Right,” Sadie said. “People come to you and you help put them in touch with spirits of their loved ones, and even though you can’t see them like I can, you can still bridge the gap and help them communicate.”

“You’re making it sound like what you want to do with your dad is the same thing,” Maeva said.

“Isn’t it?”

“No. It’s not. It sounds to me like you want to stop your dad from moving on just so you can benefit. The spirits I talk to have already gone over, and if they communicate with their loved ones through me, it’s because that’s what they choose to do.”

“So if I communicate with my dad it’s bad, but if you do it after he moves on, then it’s perfectly okay?” Sadie asked, annoyed.

“Well,” Maeva said calmly, “it’s not like you shouldn’t tell your dad how much you love him and miss him. You can have a good heart-to-heart with him and make sure he understands how much he’s meant to you. But, in the end, your goal in all this has to be the same as it’s always been. Your job is to help those spirits that have been stuck here to move on to the next dimension. That’s your calling.”

“Yeah, well, usually they’re stuck because they have a message to pass along or some unfinished business,” Sadie reminded her friend.

And if it takes me longer than usual to figure out what’s holding him back, then so what? Sadie reasoned to herself.

“Okay, so after you find out why he hasn’t gone over, you’ll help him?” Maeva asked.

“Yes.” Maybe. Eventually. Sadie was close to her mom’s house now, and she steered her car onto a tree-lined street just a block away. “I’m almost at the house now. I’ll call you later.”

“Just one more thing,” Maeva said. “How are things between you and Zack?”

“Fine. Why?”

“Because you don’t act like things are fine. He’s falling all over himself to please you, and you’re pushing him away.”

“My dad just died. Excuse me for not feeling all romantic.” And I’m not the one doing the pushing.

“This started before your dad died. When Terry and I had you two over at our place for a barbecue a couple weeks ago, I could tell something was up.”

“Yeah, that’s about when it started.”

“When what started?”

“When Zack started going to the gym with his old cop pals. At least that’s where he says he’s going.”

“And you don’t believe him?”

“It just feels wrong.”

“Zack has always struck me as a tell-it-like-it-is kind of guy. He’s not the type to sneak around behind your back. He’s straight up. I can’t believe he’d lie to you or cheat.”

Sadie’s voice grew thick with worry. “It’s just the way he can’t look me in the eye when he says he’s going to the gym, and he’s been acting, well, really weird for a while now,” Sadie said, drumming her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel while waiting at a stop sign. “In my gut, I just don’t think he’s telling the truth.”

“So ask him about it.”

“I’ve tried but he acts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.”

Maeva’s tone softened. “I know you’ve been stressed because business is slow for you right now, so maybe that’s what the problem is. The two of you are together twenty-four /seven, and you’re not side by side, scrubbing blood. Instead, you’re in the same house, staring at each other because there isn’t enough death to keep you busy. Things will get better. You’ll see. Seattle can’t go too long without people dropping like flies. In the meantime, maybe this is the perfect time for the two of you to go away together. Take a short trip. Relax. Renew your relationship.”

Sadie didn’t reply.

“I guess we can talk about that later. First things first,” Maeva said. “Call me after you’ve dealt with your dad. I don’t care what time of day or night it is. Call me.”

They ended the call just as Sadie pulled up in front of her mom’s house. When she went inside, she found the place was quiet as a tomb. Her mother must still be asleep. Sadie gently put down her overnight bag and it suddenly occurred to her that she’d forgotten to bring the photo album. Damn! She did a quick walk-through, and no fatherly apparitions were waiting to talk to her. Sadie turned on the television and sat through a sitcom rerun, then grew impatient. Watching bad television she could do at home. Maybe she should just drive back and get the photo album so she’d be ready when Mom finally woke up. It would be a great icebreaker for the two of them after such a trying week.

“Dad, I’m going to leave but I’ll be back soon,” Sadie whispered to the quiet house. “I’d really like it if we could chat when I get back.”

She left her overnight bag in the foyer. She replaced her previous note with another explaining that she’d be back soon. Then Sadie got back behind the wheel of her Honda. Zack’s suggestion of going through the photo album was a good one. Sadie knew it would be a nice way to pass the time with her mom and would give them a way to talk that didn’t lead to an argument. She’d offer to make copies of a lot of the pictures so that Mom could have a duplicate of the album for herself.

Sadie was two blocks away from her own house and singing along with the radio when Zack’s Mustang zipped by her, going in the opposite direction. In stunned surprise, Sadie whipped her head sideways and watched his car turn the corner and drive out of sight.

Off to the gym?

Before she could stop herself, Sadie two-footed the brake pedal and cranked the wheel to make an illegal U-turn. She found herself a half dozen cars behind Zack’s on the main road.

“He’s probably just going to the store for beer,” she told herself, but her hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel. They passed right by the neighborhood market where Zack should’ve stopped if beer was his goal. Sadie’s stomach did flip-flops as he kept going.

“Okay, so he really does go to the gym,” Sadie murmured to herself, but the words sounded hollow with disbelief.

Sadie kept her Honda well back in traffic. As an ex-cop, Zack would most assuredly pick her out if he felt someone was tailing him. The farther they drove, the sillier she felt. If it turned out that an actual gym was his destination, Sadie vowed she’d never, ever doubt his word about anything again.

She was so far back in traffic that Sadie almost lost track of the Mustang when it veered into the neighborhood of Green Lake in north Seattle. It seemed awfully far to travel for a workout, but Sadie was still willing to give him the benefit of doubt. After all, he could be picking up one of his old cop pals in this neighborhood.

Traffic was thin in this residential area, and though she was still a ways back, Sadie began to wonder if Zack would spot her. At this point, though, she no longer cared. If he had nothing to hide, then no harm, no foul. But if Zack was off to cheat on her on the very day she’d buried her father . . . She didn’t want to even think about that but the ugly thought kept cropping up in her mind to taunt her, and her stomach was a knot of nerves.

When Zack pulled to the curb in front of a faded blue Victorian two-level home on Sunnyside Avenue, Sadie pulled to the curb a block behind. Once she saw Zack walk up the sidewalk to the house, she drove forward to pull her Honda into a spot just a few car lengths behind his Mustang. There was a massive construction-sized rubbish container that took up most of the driveway, and it blocked her view of the front door.

“What now?” she asked herself. She sat in her car for ten minutes. If he was picking up a friend to go to the gym, surely they’d be out of the house by now. Curiosity finally got the better of her, and Sadie found herself walking to the front door. She had no idea what she’d say, but having come this far, it seemed ridiculous to back down. She rang the bell and waited.

After a minute the door opened wide, and standing there was a slim, pretty brunette in a starched white nurse’s uniform. Sadie recognized her immediately as Paula Wicks. Zack’s ex-girlfriend. Sadie sucked in a sharp breath as if she’d been sucker punched.

“Oh. Hi,” Paula said. She looked surprised but didn’t run for cover or slam the door in Sadie’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t realize Zack had told you about the job yet.” Casually over her shoulder she called out, “Zack! Sadie’s here.” Back to Sadie she said, “I’m so sorry to hear about your dad.”

Paula went back inside the house. She needed to take only a few steps before she was completely blocked from view by a massive pile of garbage. The house was floor-to-ceiling debris. The outwardly tidy two-story hid an interior jam-packed with more trash and possessions than seemed possible. Mountain after mountain of paraphernalia was piled far and deep. Bags, boxes, and containers groaned under more bags, boxes, and containers. Sadie could do little but stare until Zack wound his way through a path between the rubbish to get to the front door.

“What the hell is going on?” Sadie hissed.

“How did you know I was here? Did you follow me?” He looked confused when Sadie expected he would’ve been looking guilty as hell.

“That’s the least of your worries right now.”

“I can explain,” he said confidently.

“Start talking.” Sadie placed her fists on her hips.

“Paula asked me to help clean her mother’s place. It’s a cleanup job. I’m getting paid.” He waved his hand behind him, indicating the mess beyond. “Her mom was an obsessive hoarder.”

“So I can see. If this is a paying job, why didn’t you tell me about it? Is she paying you with sex?” Sadie snapped.

“No!” He stepped outside to join Sadie on the front porch and closed the door behind him. “When Paula first asked me to take a look at the place, she asked me to keep it quiet. She didn’t want anyone to know. She’s not exactly proud of how her mother lived.” He nodded toward the house behind him.

“So you chose to respect your ex-lover’s wishes and lie to me?” Sadie folded her arms tightly across her chest to keep her aching heart from springing out and to keep her angry knuckles from punching him in the nose.

“I was going to tell you. Really. A few days ago I’d finally made Paula realize there’s no way we’re going to get through all this junk with just the two of us. Hell, we need an army! She’s still working full-time at the hospital and she can’t get any more time off. I explained that you were the expert because you’ve worked squalor jobs like this before. She agreed that I could tell you about the job and hire a crew, if you recommended it. She just wants everything tossed.” He nodded at the giant bin taking up the majority of the driveway. “She doesn’t think anything’s worth keeping.”

Sadie conceded that Zack looked confident and not at all like a man caught with his ex-girlfriend.

“So why all the lies about going to the damn gym if it was all innocent?” she asked, unable to keep hurt from her voice.

“The day I was going to tell you was the day your dad died.” His eyes were soft as he ran his fingers through his hair. “I figured it could wait a few more days. I didn’t want you rushing into working a job just when you needed to be taking it easy.”

Her gut told her that he was telling her the truth. Her heart said it wasn’t the whole truth. Sadie’s armor began to crumple anyway.

“You realize how this looks, right? That you lied to me to spend time with your ex.” Her bottom lip trembled slightly and she bit down on it.

Zack put his arms around her and drew her in close.

“You’re my girl, Sadie,” he breathed against her neck. “I asked you to marry me last month, and just because you still haven’t given me an answer doesn’t mean I’ve started to screw Paula while I wait.” He kissed her hard and leaned back to look in her eyes. “Are we okay?”

Even her doubting heart gave in on those words. She blew out a long breath and then nodded. “We’re okay.”

“Good.” He released her from their embrace and smiled down at her. “You should go and be with your mom. If you want, I’ll come with you. This place won’t get worse if it’s left another day.” He opened the door and called inside. “Paula, I’m going to go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Paula turned sideways to fit down the path of junk that lead from deep inside the mega-clutter to the front door.

“That’s fine. You two should be with family today,” Paula said in a reasonable tone that made Sadie feel a tiny bit guilty.

Sadie realized that for all she knew, Paula was happily involved with someone else. She glanced hopefully at Paula’s left hand but didn’t see a ring.

“If you think this is a job you can help with, Sadie, I’m ready to call in the troops,” Paula continued. “Zack’s been griping that it’s too big a job, and I’ve gotta admit I haven’t been much help. I’ve taken out a loan to get the place cleaned up, so I don’t mind paying both of you, or even a team. The sooner we get the place cleaned out, the sooner I can sell the house and put it all behind me.” She reached to her throat and spun a silver twisted S-shaped pendant that dangled on a pretty chain.

“From here alone I can tell it’s a pretty big job,” Sadie said. Instinctively she wanted to turn her back on the situation, but it was the first honest-to-goodness job offer they’d had in weeks, and soon she’d be cutting into her savings to pay the bills. “How about you show me through the house so I can get an idea of what we’re dealing with?”

“Now?” Zack asked.

“Sure,” Sadie replied. “I’ve got a few minutes.”

The inside of the house was best described as a catastrophic disaster zone. There were tight pathways that wound through teetering piles. Sadie had been hired to clean the homes of compulsive hoarders before. It was a time-consuming, arduous task usually attempted by children of the hoarders but it rarely made a dent in the actual problem. Sure, the house would get clean, but within a year there would be goat paths again winding through towering piles of rubbish, and again debris would cover every inch of livable space.

“So where is your mother?” Sadie asked. “Is she okay with you taking care of—”

“She’s in an institution,” Paula said in a clipped, no-nonsense tone. “Alzheimer’s. The gift that keeps on giving.” She laughed without mirth and waved her hands. “Not that her mind is too far gone. Hell, if it wasn’t for this, um, problem, she could’ve stayed home longer. The dementia hasn’t eaten away her brain yet. She still had her wits about her more days than not. As long as I called and reminded her to eat and take her meds, she was fine, but I kept worrying she’d fall under all this rubble, break a hip, and go undiscovered for days.”

Looking around at what was supposed to be a living room, Sadie could believe a fall was more than likely.

“I’m positive that somewhere under all that stuff is a green sofa and matching chair that she bought when I was in high school. Even a television and coffee table,” Paula said, and sighed.

Sadie and Zack glanced around. There was no telling what was hidden under all the junk. There could easily be ten televisions and a few sofas piled one on top of another, and by the smell Sadie was betting they’d find rotten food and rodents too.

“Things weren’t always like this, you know. She started collecting junk when my dad got sick. As if buying boxes of crud at every yard sale would stop the cancer. It took years but when he died they could hardly carry out his body because of all the stuff. It’s only gotten worse since then. I was fourteen and stayed here until I could get away to college.” She stopped in the middle of a tight-fitting exit that lead them out of the living room. “Hard to believe but Zack and I already carted out a huge amount of stuff. There were no paths even leading to the front door before. The only way in and out for the last few years was through the back door.”

Zack was in the lead, and they continued walking single file since there was no room to stand side by side. They entered the kitchen area but Sadie doubted there’d been anything cooked in that room in years. The stove, table, and counters were piled high with dust-covered boxes and containers, and the kitchen table was hidden under stacks of yellowed newspapers.

“We’re talking at least a dozen more industrial bins the size of the one in the driveway,” Sadie muttered.

Zack nodded. “It’s been slow going.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Paula said with a rueful smile. “You’re thinking, how could you let your mother live like this?”

“That’s not what I’m thinking,” Sadie protested. Well, it wasn’t the only thing she was thinking. “I know that people who live in these kinds of deplorable conditions usually have compulsive disorders and can’t help themselves. I’ve seen it before. Even if you tried to clean out the place, it would’ve been back to this condition again if your mother didn’t control the mental cause of the problem.”

“Wish I’d known that,” Paula said, blowing out a long, huffy breath. “Twice in the last six years I’ve come back and shoveled the place out, and each time it’s been in the same shape, or even worse, within the year.”

They painstakingly went through the rest of the main floor.

“I’m not going to take you upstairs,” Paula said. “It’s too difficult to get up there and the bedrooms are mostly impassible. It’s probably best to work on the main floor first. There’s a den through here.” She motioned for Sadie to follow but movement at the top of the stairs caught Sadie’s eye.

A deep male voice shouted, “Get out of here!”

Sadie stared up the stairs to see the furious face of a large middle-aged man standing on a pile of boxes in the hall above. She froze.

“Get out!” he roared, waving an angry fist.

Sadie realized Paula was talking. She and Zack had entered the den up ahead and were oblivious to the meaty Neanderthal screaming angrily from the top of the stairs.

Sadie narrowed her eyes at the man who stood shouting and positively snarling at her. Saliva dripped from his ghoulish grin and his massive hands opened and closed into tight fists. Even though Sadie was positive he was a ghost, she couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. The spirit was well over six feet with a barrel of a chest straining against a sweat-stained undershirt and long hairy legs protruding from ugly green boxers. His lips were ruby red cherries against the gray complexion of the dead.

“The Little Mouse sent you, didn’t she?” he demanded. “Tell her she’ll never get this stuff. It’s all mine.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“Sadie?” Zack called, sticking his head out of the room down the hall. “You coming?”

“Just give me a minute,” she replied.

Zack looked at her quizzically but nodded, then retreated back inside the den. Sadie headed up the stairs in spite of her fears. She was near the top when the angry apparition lunged for her. She felt queasy as the ghost passed directly through her and then attempted to wrap his arms around her body. Whenever the spirits of the dead came in physical contact with her, it was a revolting feeling, like nails on a blackboard followed by stomach churning nausea. Due to the sheer size of this apparition, the grossed-out feeling was worse than usual.

“Stop that!” she snapped.

The spirit stopped short with a look of shock.

“You can see me,” he said, taking a step back to eye her curiously. “And hear me.”

A twisted smile played on his bloodred lips as he reached to touch her, and Sadie flinched away.

“And feel me.” He tossed back his head and released a cold bark of dark laughter. “Man, this should be good.”

“Who are you?” Sadie asked.

“Listen up, chickie; you let them know the stuff in that bedroom is mine.” He stabbed a thick finger in the direction of what Sadie assumed was a bedroom. Then he leaned in until his face was a scant inch from hers. “Touch my things and I’ll bring you down into my own personal hell. I know how to make women scream and not always in a good way.”

If looks could kill, Sadie would’ve been as dead as he was.

3

Sadie headed back downstairs in a hurry. She met Zack and Paula just leaving the den and told them she’d changed her mind about wanting a tour of the house. Suddenly the prospect of being in the house with Mr. Ugly was far less appealing than leaving her boyfriend alone with his ex-girlfriend.

“You’re right. My head just isn’t in this,” Sadie said, nervously glancing over her shoulder. “I need to go and be with my mom.”

“Of course,” Paula said, nodding emphatically.

“I’ll come with you,” Zack said.

Sadie shook her head. “That’s okay. You stay here,” Sadie said. “Take some pictures of the place for our records.” She was angling her body through the narrow path of boxes. “Oh, and speaking of pictures, I forgot the photo album and that’s why I was on my way home when I saw you and . . .” She let her voice trail off.

“I’ll walk you out,” Zack said, putting a gentle hand on the small of her back.

Sadie was grateful to get out of the house. She took a deep breath, glad for the clean air and thrilled to be away from the vicious ghost. At her car, Zack pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry about lying.” He released her and looked her in the eye. “And we don’t have to take the job.”

“Looks like you already have,” she reminded him.

“She needed help and came to me. Since Scene-2-Clean needed the business, I figured it was an honest job.” He held up his hand to stop her when she opened her mouth to speak. “But I was wrong about not mentioning it and I totally get that you may not be comfortable with me working with Paula. Say the word and I’ll tell her to find someone else.”

Sadie glanced at Paula looking like a sexy wet dream in her snug nurse’s whites as she began walking to her own car. Sadie blew out an exasperated breath.

“We need the money and, like you said, it’s a job, so . . .” She shrugged her shoulders. “Just promise me you won’t attempt cleaning the bedrooms.”

“Sadie, even if we were cleaning a bedroom together, it wouldn’t mean Paula and I would end up in bed,” Zack said in a clipped tone that said he was hurt.

Gee, thanks; that thought hadn’t even entered my head, Sadie thought with annoyance.

“This isn’t about that.” She looked over at the house and saw the ghost of Mr. Ugly watching her from an upstairs window. “This is ghost stuff and it isn’t pretty.” She returned her gaze to Zack. “Angry ghost in the bedrooms, so just stay out.”

“Great.” Zack rolled his eyes.

“I’ve got to get to the hospital,” Paula called, and offered them a wave before folding her long legs into her yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked at the curb. “Zack, could you make sure you lock up?”

Zack said that he would.

Before Paula could start her car, she was approached by a short brunette about the same age who ran over from the house next door. The two chatted briefly at Paula’s car. When Paula drove off, the woman approached Sadie and Zack.

“Hi. I’m Carole Brant, from next door. My mom wanted me to ask if it would be okay if we tossed a couple of boxes of our own junk in the bin here.” She nodded at the garbage container. “Paula said to ask you two if it’s okay. It’s only a few boxes.”

“Sure,” Zack said. “I don’t see why not.”

Sadie and Zack introduced themselves, and Sadie gave Carole a business card. You never knew when someone might need to mop up a friend or relative.

Sadie climbed into her own vehicle. Glancing at her watch, she realized the day was slipping away, and she was suddenly anxious to spend time with her mom. She offered Zack a quick wave before she drove off. On her way home to get the photo album, Sadie called Maeva and filled her in on Zack’s secret rendezvous with a squalor cleanup and his ex-girlfriend.

“Sounds to me like his heart’s in the right place,” Maeva said. “Even if he was acting pretty stupid to not tell you right off the bat.”

“Yeah,” Sadie agreed. She was relieved that the cause of Zack’s peculiar behavior during the last few weeks might be because of this simple, well-meaning lie.

“So you didn’t speak to your dad again?” Maeva asked.

Sadie explained about the photo album and promised to call Maeva later if she had any more dad-daughter communication. Now at her house, Sadie ran inside only long enough to pick up the pictures and check to see if any requests for cleanup had gone to her answering machine in the den. Nothing. Things were deadly quiet when it came to mopping up blood in Seattle.

A quick hug to Hairy and Sadie was back on her way to her mom’s house. Secretly she hoped to find her mother still asleep when she got there but, instead, she found Peggy Novak awake and sitting in a chair in the living room, staring sadly off into space.

“Sadie!” Mom exclaimed. Her face momentarily brightened before exhaustion and sadness pulled the corners of her mouth down again.

Sadie looked at her mom, noticing the gray roots showing through her rumpled auburn hair and the black funeral dress looking like it was too big for her petite frame.

“Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up,” Sadie said, glancing furtively around for Dad before walking into the living room. “Did you see my note? I thought I’d stay with you tonight.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” But she looked so immediately pleased that Sadie was glad she’d made the decision.

“It’s nearly dinnertime. How about I fix us something to eat?” Sadie offered.

“If you’re hungry, it’s not like we need to cook. Your friends left a ton of leftover sandwiches and an entire platter of cheese in the refrigerator. What on earth is one person to do with all that food?” She absently smoothed her wrinkled dress. “Of course if your father was here, none of it would go to waste. He would make himself a massive submarine sandwich for a snack and . . .” Her voice trailed off and her gaze seemed to focus intently on the flowered wallpaper on the wall across the room.

“I’ll go through what’s left and fix us each a plate,” Sadie announced, grateful to have something to do. “Why don’t you change out of your church clothes and into something more comfortable while I get things ready?”

“I’m fine,” Mom protested weakly as she got to her feet.

Mom followed Sadie into the kitchen and took a seat at the same oak kitchen table where Sadie had eaten countless meals in her lifetime. Mom folded her hands neatly on the table in front of her and found another wall to stare at. Sadie went through the trays of finger sandwiches, cold cuts, and cheeses and put far too much food on each of their plates before she carried them over to the table.

“I’m not really that hungry,” her mom said, glancing down at the overloaded plate.

“Just have a couple bites of a sandwich,” Sadie said to encourage her. “It’s been a long day, and you hardly had anything to eat when everyone was here.”

“I’m used to being the one who serves the food,” her mom said. “I’m not complaining, though. Your friend and her boyfriend did a fine job. . . .” Her voice trailed off.

The two women nibbled and pushed their food around in silence for a few minutes.

“It was a beautiful service,” Sadie murmured around a small bite of a cucumber sandwich that was too soggy after being rewrapped and placed in the fridge with the rest of the leftovers.

Mom only nodded. She delicately held a wedge of cheddar in her fingers but had yet to take a bite. For the first time Sadie noticed new deep lines around her mom’s eyes. The exhaustive pain on her mother’s face so closely reflected how Sadie’s own heart felt that she could scarcely look her mother in the eye. Instead, she tried to think of other things than their shared grief.

Sadie interrupted their simple meal twice to visit the bathroom but her father didn’t take the hint. Not that she wanted to speak to her dad in front of her mother, but she did want to make sure he was planning on coming back and hadn’t somehow gone over for good.

While Sadie swept the floor, her mom just sat at the kitchen table, staring off into space.

“How about some tea?” Sadie asked at one point.

“You hate tea.”

“So I’ll have coffee and you’ll have tea.”

“I don’t know how a person can hate tea,” Mom remarked coolly as if this were the big problem of the day. “It seems unnatural.”

Sadie didn’t comment. She didn’t want to tell her mother that she hated tea because it was routinely offered to her by grieving people when they hired her to clean the remains of a loved one. Didn’t matter the flavor. If grief had an official drink, it was tea.

She made a small pot of her mom’s favorite cranberry tea and brewed a single cup of coffee for herself. Then she made another trip to the bathroom. When she returned, her mother eyed her quizzically.

“Do you have a bladder infection?”

“No,” Sadie said quickly. “I’ve just been, um, drinking a lot of coffee today and I guess it’s finally catching up with me.”

Her mother offered her a skeptical look, but Sadie was saved from more queries about her frequent trips to the bathroom because Aunt Lynn called. Sadie washed up their small dinner while the two women spoke. Once her mom was off the phone, Sadie got out the photo album. Her mom and Sadie shared the stories surrounding the old photos and reminisced about her dad. There were a few pictures that her mom particularly liked, and Sadie separated those from the album and promised to have copies made.

“I’m glad you brought this over,” her mom said, patting the photo album. “I never knew you had so many pictures of the family.”

“Zack put them in an album for me when he found them all stashed in a shoebox,” Sadie admitted with a light chuckle.

“That was very thoughtful of him,” her mom said.

With a stretch and yawn, she made a big show of glancing at the clock on the stove. It was only nine o’clock. She announced, “I’m going to take another of the pills the doctor prescribed and go to bed.”

“Okay,” Sadie said, and got to her feet to give her mom a quick hug before she disappeared down the hall.

The house soon became quiet and Sadie turned on the television just for company. While an old Western played on TV, Sadie thought about all the things she wanted to tell her dad if he reappeared. She wanted to tell him that she remembered how patient he was when he showed her how to ride a bike and again when he taught her to drive a car. She wanted to also tell him that it didn’t matter that he wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, that she always knew he loved her, and that she forgave him for the times he missed her Little League games because of work. She practiced dialogues inside her head but never got a chance to use her speeches because Ron Novak didn’t show. All the discussions and prepared speeches were on the tip of her tongue, but she fell asleep on the sofa after midnight with the words still in her throat.

In the morning, she woke with a jolt where she’d fallen asleep on the uncomfortable sofa. She sat up and rolled her shoulders to alleviate the pain in her stiff neck. She glanced around the room and scowled. Sadie was even more determined to talk to her dad now because she didn’t know how much longer she’d be at her mom’s house. She paced the house and checked every room except her mom’s bedroom.

“How the frig can I tell him how much I loved him if he doesn’t have the decency to show up?” Sadie grumbled under her breath.

So much for telling him how much he meant to me. How important he’s been in my life. How much I loved him, miss him, and that, thanks to him, I’ll never forget the importance of changing the oil in my car.

Sadie realized he may have found his way over to the other side without any help from her, and the thought saddened her.

With a sigh of resignation and an underlying simmer of anger, Sadie went to the kitchen to make coffee. With abrupt movements she snatched the coffee canister from the cupboard and spooned the grounds into the filter.

“If you haven’t gone over, you’re just being stubborn,” she said aloud to the empty room, trying to coax Dad to appear.

Even though Sadie knew that her father’s ghost could’ve resolved his own issues and found a way to cross over without her help, she felt betrayed. It wasn’t fair that she could talk to a mean, ugly monster ghost at Sunnyside Avenue but she couldn’t reach her own father. It was bad enough she’d never been able to have a conversation with her dead brother because suicides didn’t connect with her. Sadie realized she may have blown the only chance she had to have that last important conversation with her dad yesterday after the funeral. It simultaneously depressed and enraged her.

“This totally sucks,” Sadie muttered, shaking her fist at the ceiling. “You really don’t play fair.”

“You can’t blame God for your father’s death, Sadie,” her mom said softly as she strolled into the kitchen, her worn slippers making swishing sounds on the tile.

“I know.” Sadie walked over and gave her mom a hug. “You’re up early.”

“I’m always up at six.”

“Really? Why?”

“Once your father retired, he started to always get up at seven. Getting up at six was the only way I could get an hour to myself during the day, unless he decided to go golfing.” Her voice broke then and she cleared her throat to cover it. “Guess I won’t have to worry about that anymore.” She clapped her hands. “That’s it. Tomorrow, I’m going to sleep in.”

Sadie poured them each a cup of coffee and then sat at the table with her mother. She wrapped her hands around her coffee cup and stared into the dark liquid. Sadie started to wonder if letting her mom know about her ability to talk to the dead might be a good idea.

“Mom, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my work. . . .”

“I know what you’re going to say,” her mom said, looking into Sadie’s eyes and sighing with deep resignation.

“You do?” Sadie raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“You think that now that your father’s died, I should be more comfortable with what you do. You think it’s time I realized the importance of your work because it saves families from being traumatized twice if they have to clean up after a deceased loved one. You want me to stop telling everyone I know that you run a specialized cleaning company for executives, and you want me to admit the truth: that you run a successful trauma clean company that tidies up after murders, suicides, and people who have been dead a long time.”

“Well, yes, all that would be real nice but—”

“I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed by what you do for a living. I know you started the whole thing in order to deal with Brian’s suicide. I guess I always figured you’d go back to being a schoolteacher eventually.” She looked at Sadie hopefully. “Teaching is an honorable thing too, you know. There was nothing wrong with teaching second grade. Do you think you’ll ever go back to being a teacher?”

Sadie thought about the wide-eyed admiration of seven-year-olds compared to decomposing corpses and crazy ghosts like Mr. Ugly.

“As tempting as that is—”

“You don’t want to.” Mom nodded sharply. “You’re a big girl and I should just butt out of your life, right?”

Sadie opened her mouth to smooth the edges of her mom’s anger but her mom was already on her feet.

“I’m going to have a shower.”

Once her mother had left the room, Sadie poured herself another cup of coffee.

“I almost told her,” Sadie said aloud. “But maybe Mom’s not ready to hear that I talk to the dead.” She paused for a response, and when none came she sighed. “If you haven’t gone over, you’re just being a pigheaded stubborn jackass now.”

“That’s a fine way to talk about your dead father.”

Sadie glanced up and a smile lit her face when she saw her dad leaning casually against her kitchen counter.

“Thanks for coming back.”

“Well, it’s not the same as walking in and out of a room when you’re alive, you know. I have to really want to come and then concentrate somehow.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure if I’m even doing it right. It all feels so . . . unnatural. Is this really how it’s going to be, then? I’m stuck like this?”

Sadie paused before answering carefully. “Dad, I wish you weren’t dead, but don’t you think it’s good that we get another chance to talk?” she asked hopefully.

“Well, sure, hon, but this can’t be normal. Is it?”

“What’s normal?” Sadie shrugged her shoulders. “I’m glad I got another chance to talk to you because I want you to know just how much you mean to me. I love you so much. You were a good dad. You taught me a lot.” She blinked away tears.

“About cars, you mean.” He chuckled. “I was never good at the important stuff.”

“Well, sure, you spent a lot of time making me watch you tinker with things under the hood, but I knew that was when the important conversations would happen.” Sadie smiled. “Like when you told me if a boy ever tried to force himself on me, I should knee him in the family jewels.”

“Words of wisdom to live by,” he said.

“And when you said that you’d pick me up anytime, anyplace, no questions asked if I was ever out with a date who had been drinking.”

They were quiet a minute.

“A dad has to give his daughter advice like that,” he said. “Now it’s your turn. If you do this talking-to-spirits thing on a regular basis, then you must know how it works.” He waved his hands around. “Is this purgatory? Am I supposed to be doing something to get to heaven?”

“Do you feel like you need to do something?” Sadie asked him gently.

“I don’t know. . . .”

Sadie knew it wasn’t fair to avoid his questions, but part of her wanted him here. She didn’t want him going over until they said all they could say to each other.

Suddenly, his gaze snapped up. “Your mom’s out of the shower. I should go.”

“She can’t see you.”

“Yeah, but if she sees you talking to yourself again, she’s going to make you take the pills the doc gave to her.”

“Come back and talk to me later,” Sadie pleaded on a whisper.

“Maybe. I can’t make any promises. I don’t know how this thing works.”

“I really want to see you and I promise you won’t be any less dead if you visit.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” he replied gently. “It’s like every time I talk to you, it gets harder to feel which way I’m supposed to go.”

“What do you mean?” Sadie asked.

“It’s like the room gets darker and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find the door if I keep coming back.”

Then he was gone and Sadie wondered if her dad would pay too high a price for her own selfishness.

Peggy Novak’s shower seemed to help her set her mind into action. She emerged with her hair damp and a list a mile long of things that needed to get done. Sadie’s mom and sister were both list makers. It worked for them but Sadie didn’t often make lists, unless it was an agenda related to work. Mom’s first item was to put Sadie to work with writing thank-you notes to those who’d sent flowers and casseroles.

“I called your aunt Lynn already and we’re going to take all the flower arrangements over to the senior home today,” Mom announced.

“That’s a good idea,” Sadie said. “When is she coming over?”

“She should be here within the hour. Afterward we’re going out for lunch. Do you want to join us?”

“No, you two should spend some time together. Maybe I’ll just take you out for supper instead,” Sadie offered.

“Gosh, it’s not like I want to spend all day in restaurants,” her mom said while placing a stamp in the corner of an envelope. “Besides, don’t you have work to do? I’m sure you can’t afford to just take time off.”

“Business is slow right now,” Sadie admitted.

“Slow doesn’t mean stopped,” Mom said. “Honestly, Sadie, I don’t require a babysitter.”

Sadie thought about Paula’s house and the angry ghost, and she shuddered. “I guess there is a job I could work on.”

“Good. Lynn and I will be busy enough during the day, and when she brings me back to the house you can always join us to finish up with the thank-yous that we don’t get done now.”

Before she could respond to her mother, Sadie’s cell phone rang. She was surprised to see the incoming call was from Paula Wicks. With a frown Sadie answered.

“Hello?”

“I’m sorry to bother you, Sadie, but I just showed up at my mom’s house before heading off to work, and Zack was here already working on his own. He hurt his ankle somehow and he needs to have it looked at, but he’s too stubborn to go to the hospital.”

“Let me talk to him,” Sadie said. There was some shuffling while the phone was handed to Zack.

“I’m fine,” he said.

In the background she heard Paula shout, “You’re not fine. Your ankle’s swollen.”

“If it’s swollen, it should be looked at,” Sadie insisted.

“It’s only a little swollen,” he replied.

“I’m on my way. I’ll take a look at it,” Sadie said, already getting to her feet and rinsing her coffee cup.

“You don’t need to do that. I’m fine,” Zack protested.

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Sadie said, and disconnected. To her mother she said, “Zack hurt his ankle on a job. I’m sure it’s not too serious but I should go. Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course I’ll be okay,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Go and be with your guy. Lynn will be here soon and I’m not an infant. I can be on my own.”

Sadie hopped in her car and drove quicker then she should have over to the Victorian two-story. She pulled into the driveway with her bumper kissing the metal of the Dumpster. Once out of her car, Sadie was relieved to find there were no angry ghosts peering at her from the upper bedroom windows. She met Paula on her way out of the house as Sadie was on her way in.

“I hate to leave like this but I’ve got to get to work,” Paula said apologetically. “I was just coming by to let Zack know the Dumpster company called and offered to remove the full bin and replace it with another.” She nodded inside. “He’s upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Sadie parroted, and swallowed a lump in her throat. Great.

“Yeah, and his ankle’s not just swollen; it’s also purple,” she said, taking off down the sidewalk and calling to Sadie over her shoulder, “Make sure he gets an X-ray because I’m sure it’s fractured.”

Sadie hurried up the sidewalk and inside the house. She wound her way between the mountains of belongings.

“Zack?” Sadie called.

“I’m up here,” he shouted back.

Sadie climbed the stairs, her eyes shifting left and right over the upper hall, but no ghosts were waiting. Zack was at the top of the landing, his back up against a mound of boxes.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

“Never better.”

Sadie bent to look at his foot that was indeed very swollen and the color of grape Jell-O.

“Yeah, you’re ready to dance the tango,” she said drily. “Looks broken to me. How did it happen?”

“I heard a crash upstairs and Paula said she’d dropped a box filled with glass stuff. I went up to see if I could help while Paula went down to the kitchen to get a broom for the broken glass. I was on my knees picking up the bigger pieces of glass when a heavy crate behind me somehow just toppled over and landed on my foot.”

“That crate?” Sadie asked, pointing to a large heavy pine box on its side in the doorway of a spare bedroom. “Didn’t I specifically ask you not to go upstairs?” Sadie demanded.

“Yes, Mother,” Zack said sarcastically. “But for the record I wasn’t in any of the rooms; I was just here in the hall.”

Zack winced as he tried to get to his feet using Sadie’s shoulder as a crutch.

“If you were outside the door, how did that crate manage to fall from inside the room and onto your ankle?” Sadie demanded.

“I threw it at the asshole, that’s how,” bellowed the ghostly figure behind them. “Too bad about his foot. I was aiming for his head. If I’d aimed it right, the crate would’ve cracked his noggin like a mellon!”

Sadie whirled around and almost caused Zack to lose his balance.

“Back off,” Sadie growled at the man.

“What?” Zack demanded.

“Get outta this house!” the red-lipped ghost screamed. A spray of spittle hit Sadie, and she wiped it away, shuddering as it made her skin crawl.

Sadie didn’t like the crazed look in the ghost’s eyes or the menacing way he kicked the crate, managing to connect the way only a very few ghosts could.

“We need to go right now,” Sadie told Zack. “Can you get down the stairs?”

Zack hobbled over to the stairs and with the aid of the banister managed to begin half hopping down the stairs. Sadie was at his side, helping Zack along, while the crazed spirit spewed furious curses from the top of the stairs.

“This is my stuff! Mine! You hear me?” he shouted. “Get out and stay out!”

When they reached the bottom landing, Sadie looked up to see a large box hurtling down the stairs toward them. She yanked Zack out of the way just in time. The pine crate exploded into splintered bits when it landed against a stack of cardboard boxes, splitting some of them open and spilling their contents into their path.

“What the hell!” Zack glared in the direction from which the missile came. “You could’ve warned me we’re dealing with crazy ghosts.”

“I did warn you, remember?” Sadie said, tugging Zack by the elbow and helping him over the junk that was scattered across the tight path that led to the front door.

“Get out!” the specter hollered. “Leave now!” He was still angry but there was a difference in his tone. Sadie realized he sounded less angry and more panicked.

“Why is it that every time we take on a big job, it somehow has to involve your weird talent?” Zack demanded, sounding miffed.

“This is so not my fault,” Sadie barked.

Zack’s eyes grew wide as another box narrowly missed them.

“Can you move faster?” Sadie asked.

“I’m trying,” Zack said, and they hobbled forward. “Why aren’t you moving?”

Sadie’s feet wouldn’t budge. She was focused on a bundled heap of newspapers that had rolled from the remnants of the first pine crate. She looked up at the ghost, whose own eyes grew wide before he abruptly disappeared from view.

“Zack, I think you’d better take a look at this,” Sadie said, her voice wavering with apprehension. “Tell me it’s not what it looks like.”

Zack hopped over to Sadie, sliding his bad ankle with a grimace. He glanced down at Sadie’s feet, where she pointed to a rolled clump of old yellowed newspapers. Protruding from the end of the roll appeared to be a tiny, blackened foot.

Zack sucked in air through his teeth before the look of shock was replaced by his cop face. As if he’d never resigned from the Seattle Police Department, he took a pencil from his back pocket and used it to slowly unfold the paper to reveal what was wrapped inside the layers.

Sadie gasped in horror.

The mummified remains of a newborn infant lay curled in the fetal position.

4

Detective Petrovich looked at Sadie and frowned.

“How come every time I see you it’s bad news?” he asked.

“Maybe because you handle homicides, and pretty much anytime anyone calls you it’s bad news,” she replied, leaning her hip against the hood of his unmarked car.

He grunted out a reply.

“What’s different about you?” Sadie asked, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the detective. “Have you lost weight?”

“Ten pounds.” He patted his stomach and smiled sheepishly.

Sadie didn’t mention that she noticed he was also missing the usual food stains down the front of his shirt and she also didn’t bring up the fact that his light brown hair actually appeared somewhat styled. Instead, she smiled. Maybe Petrovich was finally dating after his brutal divorce a couple years ago.

“You look good,” Sadie remarked.

Petrovich had been the first Seattle officer Sadie ever met. He worked her brother’s suicide and had been gentle and kind. He’d taken time above and beyond the call of duty during those difficult days. Because of that, the two of them had a special rapport.

Petrovich nodded toward the house behind them. “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen such a helluva mess. How the hell am I supposed to find evidence about a baby’s death seventeen years ago with piles of crap like that around my scene?” he demanded, his eyes firing at Sadie.

“Look, it’s not my fault that—” She stopped herself short. “Wow, you’re good. How on earth did you already figure out that the baby died seventeen years ago?”

“It ain’t rocket science. The kid was wrapped in a newspaper dated March 17, 1992.”

“Oh.”

“So how well do you know the owner?” He glanced down at the notes in his hands. “This Mimi Wicks person.”

“Zack knows the family better than I do,” Sadie said drily, and when Petrovich raised his eyebrows, she added, “All I know is the woman has Alzheimer’s and she’s in an institution home. The daughter, Paula, hired us.”

“Yeah, that’s what Zack said. We already called her. She’s on her way from work and should be here any minute.” Petrovich looked at the house with derision before returning his gaze to Sadie. “I guess you’d better get Bowman over to the hospital and get his ankle looked at.” He nodded to Zack, who was sitting in the passenger seat of Sadie’s Honda while an officer leaned in through the window and talked to him about the house.

“We know where to find the two of you if we need more information,” the detective said dismissively.

Sadie nodded and walked back to her car. They’d agreed to leave Zack’s Mustang behind while she took him to the hospital for X-rays. Sadie knew pain must’ve overcome Zack’s ego since he no longer even argued that he needed to have the foot examined. Sadie glanced at the swollen appendage and was glad Paula had the foresight to make him take off his shoe and sock before she left for work.

At the hospital it took only a couple hours for the doctors to pronounce that Zack’s ankle had a bad break. They couldn’t do more than offer a temporary splint that would be replaced by a cast once the swelling went down. When the doctor gave Zack pain meds, Sadie looked at Zack questioningly.

“I’m sure some ibuprofen will work wonders,” Zack said, tossing the bottle to Sadie.

“Sure,” Sadie agreed, tucking the bottle of meds into her purse.

Grimacing in pain, Zack eased himself back into Sadie’s car and they drove home. By the time they were at the house, Zack was miserable and brooding.

“You’re the one who pisses off some ghost, and now I’ve got to sit on my ass for days,” he grumped, sliding onto the sofa and angrily snatching the remote off the side table.

“Actually, you were the one who pissed off the ghost. He threw the crate at you before I even got there, remember?” Sadie said. “And I did warn you.”

Zack just shot her an angry glare.

“Fine. How about an ice pack and a couple of nice Advil?”

“I don’t think Advil is going to cut it.” Zack scowled. “You got the Vicodin from the doc?”

“Wait a second. Am I the only one who remembers what happened last time you were on Vicodin?”

He responded by flipping on the television and ignoring her. Fighting her temper, Sadie stormed into the kitchen and angrily took a hammer to some ice cubes in a Ziploc bag. Once she’d gotten the fury out of her system and the cubes were near powder, she reasoned it out.

“Zack’s in pain. He’s a man. He’s grumpy.”

With a deep breath, she patted Hairy on the head for strength, but even the rabbit was ticked off. He hunkered down in his basket and snuggled with his faded stuffed toy bunny (mini-Hairy) and ignored Sadie, who made a mental note to play with him more later. She put together a thick ham and cheese sandwich for Zack and brought it to him along with the ice pack, Advil, and a bottle of beer. She set up everything at his elbow on the end table.

Zack grumbled something that resembled “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

She kissed the top of his head, then walked around and gently lifted Zack’s foot onto a toss cushion she strategically placed on the coffee table. She watched as he lowered the ice pack on the area of the swelling. He cringed, and the air sizzled from his colorful swearing.

“I know it hurts but the doctor said you should keep it iced and elevated as much as possible,” Sadie reminded him. “If you’re a good boy you’ll get a walking cast in a couple of days,” she joked. “I’m sure by then a lot of the pain will be gone.”

He replied by turning up the volume on the television. She snagged the remote from him and turned it off.

“I want to talk about the mummy,” she announced, sitting down next to him on the couch.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Whose baby do you think it was?” Sadie asked, ignoring his sulky reaction. “How did Paula sound when you called her up at work and told her there was a mummified baby in a box in her mother’s house? I guess Petrovich is going to go and interview Mimi Wicks in the home too, huh?”

“What part of my not wanting to talk about it don’t you get?”

He folded his arms across his chest and glared. She matched his stare with her own.

“Fine,” he said, relenting. “No, I don’t think Paula knew a damn thing about there being a baby corpse stuffed in a box at her mom’s house. If she did know, I’m pretty certain she would’ve mentioned it when she asked us to help her clean up and, yes, I’m sure Petrovich will go and interview Paula’s mom and I’m sure they’ll send the kid for DNA testing and—”

“Oh!” Sadie exclaimed. “DNA testing would be great. They can take some blood and find out for certain if the baby belongs to Paula’s mom and—”

He held up a hand to stop her from continuing. “Please don’t start speculating on this. Since the baby was mummified, there’s no blood for DNA and the skin is too dried out. They’ll have to use bone marrow. And remember, this isn’t an episode of CSI. We’re looking at weeks until we get DNA results. Did you happen to notice that over half the boxes in that house were labeled from HSN or eBay? The other half of the junk are boxes of trash Paula’s mom bought at garage sales, estate sales, and flea markets. Paula said she loved buying entire boxes of stuff sight unseen. She’d bring the boxes home and not even open them right away. Mimi claimed she liked to wait for just the right moment because one day when she opened them, she wanted to be surprised. Well, she would’ve sure been surprised today. There’s a chance she actually bought a box with the baby in it, and in that case, we may never know the baby’s identity.”

Sadie opened her mouth to respond but her office phone was ringing, so she took off down the hall. She spent a few minutes on the phone with the security manager for Bellevue Square shopping center and then returned to the living room with a Cheshire cat grin on her face.

“I have to go out,” Sadie told Zack. “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“Where are you going?” he asked, but didn’t look up from the television.

“Bellevue Square.”

“Don’t spend too much at the mall,” he replied. “We just lost Paula’s job too.”

“Actually, I’m off to do a job at the mall.”

He slowly turned to face her. “You’re kidding me.”

“Nope. Got a decomp scene inside one of the stores. Apparently someone died in a fitting room.”

His jaw dropped. “No way.”

“Way.”

“Damn, and I’m stuck here.”

“Be good and I’ll show you the pictures when I get back.”

It took Sadie fifteen minutes to properly stock her Scene- 2-Clean company van with all the supplies she’d need for a decomp scene. The majority of her supplies were stored at her warehouse location, but she kept a significant second set of everything in her garage for easy access.

Being a civilized Seattleite, Sadie stopped at Caffè Fiorè for a latte to go and then spent half an hour locked on the 520 bridge over Lake Washington because of a traffic incident. The gridlock gave her time to think. Her mind drifted mostly to the situation with her dad, and a frown creased her face. She picked up the phone to call her mom but it rang in her hand before she could dial out.

“Hello?”

“So how’d it go with your dad? Did you see him again? Did you help him over?” Maeva asked. “You didn’t call.”

“I didn’t call because nothing happened,” Sadie lied. “Dad didn’t revisit.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. Plus, I’ve got other stuff going on. There’s a little matter of an angry ghost in green boxer shorts and a mummified baby, and Zack’s got a broken ankle.”

“What?!”

Sadie explained about her day, and in the end, Maeva zoomed right in on what was really important.

“I’m thinking Zack shouldn’t have lied to you about Paula, and the ankle injury was definitely karmic payback.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“And keep an eye on Paula. Maybe she’s making a play for your man.”

“Yes. I’m sure she’s been stacking her mother’s house with hundreds of pounds of crap and the corpse of a mummified baby so that she’d have an excuse to call him up.”

“You never know,” Maeva said seriously. “The angry ghost, well, I’m thinking just avoid that place. Mummies. Pissed-off ghosts. Those are a couple things you should just avoid in general.”

“Sure.”

“So how are you going to handle things with your dad when he does appear?”

“Maybe he won’t show up again,” Sadie said, surprised at how much the thought stung. “So I’m not going to think about it. Right now, I’m off to do a job at Bellevue Square.”

“What’s the job? Retail therapy? Are you checking out the latest deals at Macy’s?”

“Mopping up a body decomposition in a boutique changing room,” Sadie replied.

“I had to ask.”

They disconnected and traffic finally began to inch along toward Bellevue. Sadie dialed her mom at home but there was no answer. So she tried her mom’s cell but, again, she didn’t pick up. No surprise since Mom carried a cell phone to reach others, not to be reached. Not to be outdone, Sadie dialed her aunt Lynn.

“I’ve been trying to reach my mom,” Sadie explained to her aunt.

“We’re at the senior center,” Aunt Lynn said. “Peggy just went back to my car to get the last of the flower arrangements.”

“How’s she doing?” Sadie asked.

“As good as can be expected,” Aunt Lynn said with a sigh. “I remember those days after I buried your uncle. They’re tough. It’s sweet that you’re staying with her.”

“She seemed anxious to get rid of me this morning,” Sadie said.

“Oh, that’s just her way. She doesn’t want to feel like a burden. She’s really quite touched that you’ve decided to move in for a while.”

Sadie had been ready to sip her latte and nearly spilled it in her lap instead.

“Move in?” Sadie gasped.

“Well, she didn’t say ‘move in,’ ” Aunt Lynn corrected herself. “But she did say she thought it was sweet you’d offered to stay with her as long as she wanted you to.”

Oh, no. What have I done?

“Oh, here’s your mother now,” Aunt Lynn said, and handed the phone over.

“How’s Zack’s foot?” Mom asked.

“It’s broken but he needs to have a splint on it for a couple days. They won’t cast it until the swelling goes down.”

“That settles it, then: You need to be back home to take care of him.”

Mom’s voice was firm but Sadie detected a touch of disappointment in her tone. Maybe Aunt Lynn was right.

“He’s a big boy,” Sadie said. “Besides, I set him up on the sofa at home because I have to go and tend to a job. Are we still on for dinner? I’ll cook.”

“What about Zack?”

“I’ll make extra and bring him a plate later.”

“Well, okay,” Mom said, sounding pleased with the arrangement. “You don’t have to cook but we’ll see you at five. If you’re sure it doesn’t cut into your work schedule . . .”

Sadie assured her it wouldn’t, although she had no idea if that was true. With the promise to see her later, Sadie disconnected just as she merged onto 405.

It wasn’t long before she was alongside the Bellevue Square shopping center, but it took a lot longer before she found a parking spot for her massive van. Finally, Sadie decided to park in a loading zone and hoped she wouldn’t be towed.

Grabbing her black canvas bag, she entered the shopping center. She walked past the center court beneath a pianist playing a soothing classical tune. The baby grand piano was located on a landing midway up a curved staircase leading to the upper mall.

“Not exactly Wal-Mart, is it?” Sadie muttered to herself with a giggle.

She’d been told to be discreet so she had her hazmat suit in her small duffel bag as well as the camera she needed to take photos of the scene. She followed the directions she’d been given and found herself traveling a short hall between Nordstrom and the Greek Kitchen restaurant. Just past the washrooms there was a door simply marked OFFICE. She stepped inside and gave the petite Asian receptionist her name.

Sadie didn’t have time to take a seat before the head of security, Earl Farina, came into the waiting room to get her. He was older than Sadie expected, probably sixty with doughy round features, a billowy bullfrog neck, and a thousand freckles dotting his face and arms where they protruded from his starched short-sleeved dress shirt. He brought Sadie into a small windowless office in the back and got right down to business.

“It’s just like I told you on the phone,” he said, taking a seat behind the desk. He pointed to a chair across from him for Sadie. “Some homeless dude named Boom Boom got into one of the boutiques that was under construction and I guess he OD’d or something.”

“And nobody noticed he was there for how long?” Sadie asked, sitting forward in the stiff black office chair.

Earl shrugged. “He could’ve been in there a week or even two. I ain’t no CSI guy.” He guffawed loudly at his own joke but when Sadie’s own face remained impassive, he continued. “You see, the construction on the store was finished. They were just waiting delivery of the last fixtures and some of those were on back order, so it had been a while since anyone went inside.”

“So the body was discovered when they were ready to install the fixtures?”

“Yup. He was tucked into one of the fitting rooms, curled up on the bench where he’d prolly gone to sleep and just never woke up.”

“I don’t get it. Wouldn’t the smell alone have alerted people about—”

“The unit was totally sealed off. We do that when there’s construction. Otherwise the noise and paint smells travel all over the mall, and Bell Square shoppers don’t like that.”

The sneer on his face said that he didn’t care much for Bell Square shoppers, and Sadie was betting the feeling was mutual. She dug out her standard contract and Earl hustled off to make copies of the document. Once the paperwork was taken care of, Earl brought Sadie out into the mall.

“Most of these stores have a separate entrance for the staff down a locked hall,” he said, walking her past a long corridor of stores until they came to an unmarked door. “Here are your keys. This one for the hall and this other is for unit one-twelve, where you need to go.”

Sadie took the keys and put them in her pocket.

“I ain’t going in with you ’cause I’ve already been in there once when the workers found the mess and a second time to let the cops inside. I still can’t get the smell out of my sinuses.” He wrinkled his pudgy nose. “Now listen, I know you gotta do what you gotta do, but I don’t want you carting in and out anything that would make things look suspicious, you understand. The manager will have my ass if word gets out about what you’re doing in here.”

“I’ll take a look, and after I do my initial walk-through, I’ll let you know how we can work that,” Sadie promised.

Sadie opened the unmarked door and then meandered down the long hall until she reached unit one-twelve. She opened her tote bag and donned the disposable hazmat suit over her clothes and slipped paper booties over her shoes. Protective headgear and a respirator followed. Lastly she snagged her camera from her bag. Once inside the boutique, the smell of decomposition was a pungent fog. It wormed its way through her respirator and into her sinuses but Sadie hardly noticed.

She pushed her way through the heavy plastic that sealed off the entrance. The plastic sheets were put up to keep the drywall dust and paint smells from traveling beyond the boutique under construction. The plastic served the dual purpose of preventing the pungent decomp smell from drifting out of this small room and out into the upscale mall beyond.

Sadie took her camera and began her shots from the rear space that would undoubtedly eventually be a cramped storage and staff room. Beyond that back area was the storefront. It was a large open room with walls painted a bright shade of fuchsia broken up by wide bands of canary yellow. The combination hurt Sadie’s eyes. Metal clothing racks were bolted along the walls at five-foot intervals. If there’d been clothing actually hanging from the racks, they would’ve been a complete write-off due to the smell. No amount of discount would convince a woman to buy a sweater that smelled like eau de rotting corpse.

At the long left wall, Sadie turned and faced the row of a half dozen changing rooms. The doors to the rooms alternated yellow and fuchsia. They were built so that the walls of the fitting rooms stopped a couple feet from the ceiling and a few inches from the floor. Even though the brightly colored doors of all the rooms were closed, Sadie took one look and knew exactly which one had held the corpse. Above a yellow painted stall there was a cyclone of black flies circling overhead.

Sadie took a few photos of the entire room and a couple close-ups of the bank of changing rooms, and then she walked over and opened the door she’d chosen, confirming her educated guess. A sticky puddle of body decomp fluid was on the floor under the fitting room bench. On the bench was a patch of sloughed-off skin that had most likely slid off the body when the medical examiner moved the corpse. Sitting in his own mess was a scrawny man with a gaunt, pale face and greasy dreadlocks.

“Mr. Boom Boom, I presume,” Sadie said, speaking loud enough to be heard through her respirator.

The man blinked in surprise and then nodded.

“Man, I ain’t never been this wasted,” he drawled.

Sadie chuckled to herself. “Hate to break it to you, but you aren’t stoned. You’re dead.”

His mouth opened and closed a couple times but he didn’t speak, so Sadie continued.

“You’re in the Bellevue Square mall. I’m told you slipped inside this place and decided to spend the night here but you didn’t wake up.”

“You’re sure I’m dead?”

She waved away the thick cloud of flies and nodded. “Yup. Whatever you took last finally took you.”

“Well, ain’t that just the shit.” He shook his head sadly.

“So then is this heaven or hell?”

“Guess that all depends on how you look at it.”

He looked down at his grubby hands as if the answer were there. “So you’re dead too? And we’re ghosts?”

“You’re dead and a ghost. I run a trauma clean company and I’m here to clean up what’s left of you.”

His brow furrowed. “Then how can you talk to me?”

“I can see and talk to the spirits of the dead.”

“Wow!” He shook his head again. “Ain’t that just the shit.”

“Right.” Sadie raised her camera and took a couple of pictures of the room, carefully zooming in on the patches of sloughed skin that soaked into the wall and bench. Both would need to be cut out and replaced. Sadie smiled to herself when Boom Boom actually seemed to pose for the camera and offer her a wide, toothless grin.

“I’m taking pictures of the room for the insurance company,” Sadie explained. “You won’t show up because, well, you’re just a spirit now.”

He looked decidedly unhappy about that.

“On the bright side, I can help you move on to the next dimension, if you’re ready.”

“How do I know if I’m ready?” He looked at her skeptically.

Sadie shrugged. “Do you feel ready? Is there something left for you to do? Want me to contact your next of kin, or something?”

“Geez, Rosie!” he replied, excitedly clapping his hands.

Sadie wasn’t sure if he was having a narcotic-induced flashback or if he really had thought of something he needed to accomplish before going over to the other side.

“So-o-o-o?” she asked, impatiently drumming her gloved fingers against her thigh.

“Rosie,” he repeated, and a bright smile lit his pale face.

“This Rosie—is she a girlfriend or something?”

“A good person. Heart of gold. I need you to let her know what happened to me and give her my stuff.”

“Okay. What message do you want me to tell her, and where can I find her and your stuff?”

“Rosie is the redhead who works at Orange Julius here in the mall.” He waggled a finger at Sadie. “She’s special, that Rosie. Real nice. If I wasn’t so messed up I would’ve made a play for her, but between the bottle and the needle, I never had a chance.” He shook his head slowly from side to side, and the realization of all that he missed because of his addiction shone in his eyes. “Life’s a bitch.”

“Yeah,” Sadie agreed. “So Rosie was your friend, and I should just tell her Boom Boom has passed on?”

“And give her my stuff,” he repeated. His face crumpled with emotion and a slow tear leaked from the corner of his eye. “She was the only friend I had in this whole world. Everyone else around here, well, they’d just call security any time they saw me here in the mall. Not Rosie. She just asked me to try to come around when she was working on her own or when the other girls were on their break, and when the mall wasn’t so busy. That way I didn’t draw attention to myself. Then she’d always make me the biggest, sweetest drink she could and give it to me free along with a hot dog. She’d give me the drink with the works, even the vitamin boosters to help me be healthy. She didn’t mind that I had no money to pay. She always said, ‘Boom Boom, one day you’ll get a fresh start and then you can pay me back.’ ”

“That was really nice of her.”

“I let her down,” he said sadly. “And, you know, it wasn’t just the food, though I sure appreciated that, but she was nice too. She didn’t just give me a hot dog and drink so I’d go away. She’d talk to me like a real person. I’d tell her a story about my life before the drugs took me. About how I was a pretty boy and in all the magazines, and she’d smile and say she could still see how I was handsome and sexy in my time.”

Sadie looked at Boom Boom’s haggard, emaciated face and his blackened, snaggled teeth, and she had a hard time picturing this man as anything but a bum.

“Did you say you wanted me to give her something too?” Sadie asked, trying to hurry things along.

“Yes. It’s very important.” He nodded enthusiastically and then narrowed his eyes. “Can I trust you?”

“Of course,” Sadie said, a tad offended.

“You sure? Because I only got but one thing of value left in this whole world and I want Rosie to have it.”

“I swear if you tell me where it is, I’ll bring it to Rosie,” Sadie vowed. “Answering last wishes is kind of what I do.” And then because that sounded like she was some kind of morbid fairy godmother, she added, “Usually, it just means passing a message to a loved one, but I don’t have a problem giving Rosie whatever possessions you have.”

“That’s good ’nuff for me,” Boom Boom said. He proceeded to give Sadie detailed instructions about where she could find the very important belongings.

Once Sadie had assured him again that she’d be sure to do as he asked, she reminded him that it was time to move on.

“You think that other world is better?” he asked wistfully.

“I’m sure of it,” Sadie said with all the confidence she could muster. “Now, if you just relax and let yourself go, I think you’ll find that—”

She stopped short because already the shape of Mr. Boom Boom was beginning to fade.

“O-o-oh-h-h,” he cried softly. “It’s my mom. She came for me.” He lifted his arms in the air, and even as he did so, his limbs became a sheer film.

Boom Boom’s essence was almost entirely gone when there was a brief shimmer around his edges. Then his body entirely dissipated. The shimmer meant he’d totally gone over. Sadie’s lips broke into a wide grin behind her respirator and she felt an immediate boost of energy. It was a rush. A surge of sun-laced adrenaline that reminded her of why she loved helping others go over to other side. When it happened, it just felt so very right. In her core she knew that this was what she’d been called to the planet to do.

Just as quickly, though, Sadie’s up feeling came crashing down. She thought of her dad. How could she ever experience that same kind of thrill if she helped him go over while knowing she’d never see or talk to him again?

Anxious to obliterate that thought, Sadie snapped the remainder of her pictures and then stepped outside of the boutique and into the back hallway, where she peeled off her hazmat suit. She tucked the gear into a trash bag and then into her canvas bag and headed back to the security office. She reported back to Earl Farina, informing him of the steps she’d need to take in order to clean the boutique.

“Damn. Sounds like that’s a lot of stuff you’ll be dragging in and out of the mall,” he said, his voice sharp with annoyance like this was all happening to him. “Obviously, we can’t be having you bringing things like air purification equipment into the center while people are shopping.”

“I can come after hours, provided someone’s around to let me in,” Sadie offered.

“We’re open until nine but there’s security in the mall twenty-four/seven. Are you able to come after nine o’clock?”

Sadie said she was, and she waited while Earl made calls and arrangements with the night security staff so that they’d be aware to allow her inside after hours.

“It’s all set,” Earl said, getting to his feet and ushering Sadie out of his office.

“Thanks. I’ll let you know once the job is completed,” Sadie said. “Like I told you earlier, there are a number of steps that I need to go through with a decomp scene, so it won’t all be done in one night; however, I can definitely arrange to have the majority of the equipment removed and the cleaning of bodily fluids done tonight after hours.”

“Good,” Earl said. They were at the exit of the security offices now. “Anything else you need?”

“Yes. Can you tell me which way I might find an Orange Julius?” Sadie asked.

“I love those damn drinks myself,” Earl said, and he pointed down the hall. “You want to hang a right at the end of this leg of the mall, and you’ll see it plain as day.”

Sadie thanked him and walked on. She found the Orange Julius easily enough but the brunette working the counter said that Rosie wouldn’t be in until six and would work until closing. Sadie didn’t mind. It would give her enough time to swing by the bus depot. She had to get to a locker there and remove whatever junk Boom Boom wanted to pass on. She’d hand it over to the girl at the end of the evening just before the mall closed, and then she could bring in the equipment necessary for the rest of the fitting room job. It would be a long night.

She got behind the wheel of her van and called Zack to see how he was doing.

“My ankle hurts. That’s how I’m doing,” was his curt response.

“It’s supposed to hurt. It’s broken,” came Sadie’s equally abrupt reply. She softened a bit and added, “Do you want me to stop and pick up anything for you on the way home?”

“Vodka.”

“I’m pretty sure getting drunk isn’t going to solve your pain problems,” Sadie said. “It’ll just make you sick. I left the bottle of Advil on the end table on your right. Take a couple more if you need it. Do you want me to come home and get you fresh ice?”

There was an uncomfortable pause. Sadie heard him turn up the volume on the TV. She knew Zack was hurting but she couldn’t help but be miffed that he hadn’t asked about the mall job.

“You don’t have to check on me,” Zack grumped. “Just go and be with your mom or try to work things out with your dad. Leave me alone.”

“I’ll still have to come by and get the stuff I need for the mall job,” Sadie reminded him. She waited to see if he’d ask about the job. Nothing. She sighed and then added, “I guess I should check in at my mom’s house first, and I’ll come by and see you later.”

Sadie got the impression Zack just wanted to be alone in his misery. That was fine with her because if he was crabby, she didn’t want to be around him anyway. She may be great with the dead but she was discovering that she wasn’t cut out for nursing. Thinking of nurses made her think of Paula.

“By the way, have you talked to Paula again? How is she taking the whole baby mummy thing?” Sadie asked.

“I’m guessing as well as anyone who found out their crazy mother kept a mummified infant in her haunted house,” he snapped.

“She knows the house is haunted?” Sadie quickly demanded, not sure what Zack would’ve told Paula about that situation.

“If she knows, it’s not because I told her.” The phone line beeped. “I gotta go. Someone’s on the other line.”

He disconnected before even saying good-bye. Sadie looked at her cell phone and swore softly. Then she called her mom, who was now home and sipping tea with Aunt Lynn. Sadie told Mom she’d be home in time for dinner.

“Tell Aunt Lynn she’s welcome to stay,” Sadie offered.

“I’ll cook enough for all of us.”

“There’s no need to cook, Sadie. Have you no idea the number of casseroles I’ve received in the last few days?”

“Oh. Right.” How could she forget? When she’d opened the freezer that morning, she’d nearly had a dozen topple out onto the floor. “Okay, then I’ll heat up one mean casserole for all of us.”

“What about Zack?”

“He can get his own damned casserole,” Sadie muttered.

“I meant, how’s his ankle?”

“Broken. Really swollen and definitely broken and he’s being a big baby about it.”

“Oh, dear! Well, then, don’t worry about me. Lynn and I can certainly heat up a dish and fend for ourselves. After all, you should be home with Zack and—”

“Zack is fine on his own. I just talked to him, and trust me, he prefers it this way. I’ll see you in a while after I’ve done some errands.”

She wanted to stomp her accelerator and rocket the car across Lake Washington but, once again, the 520 was bogged down in traffic, and a fifteen-minute skip downtown turned into a forty-five minute crawl. Finally, she inched her way over to Exit 166 and dipped onto Stewart Street.

The Greyhound bus depot was in the exact same location as it had always been, and it looked just as skuzzy as it always had, regardless of a new paint job and attempts to beautify its exterior. Sadie walked around two bums asleep on either side of the depot door, each with a dirty paper cup set up to accept cash donations.

The inside of the bus depot smelled like urine, body odor, and indigence masked only slightly by an underlying scent of pine floor cleaner. Sadie glanced around the crowd milling about and spotted a bank of lockers on the opposite wall. Locker number forty-two looked like all the other luggage lockers except it had a combination lock instead of a key lock. Sadie took a slip of paper from her pocket and read the combination that Boom Boom had given her. She twisted the combination dial forward and back until she reached the final number and then tugged the lock open. Inside the locker was only one item, a black three-ring binder with worn edges. Sadie took it out, removed Boom Boom’s combination lock from the bracket, and brought both the lock and the binder back to her van.

Sadie flipped open the binder, and staring up at her was a well-oiled model in a full-page Calvin Klein advertisement. She flipped the page and there was another. And another. And then at least a dozen more after that.

“Oka-a-a-ay,” Sadie mumbled to herself. “I’m guessing Boom Boom was a little obsessed with beefcake.” It wasn’t exactly what she imagined he wanted to leave behind for Rosie, but she wasn’t one to judge. Sadie just chuckled lightly to herself and tossed the binder onto the passenger seat. She turned the key in the ignition and prepared to steer away from the curb, but then something caused her to hesitate. Picking up the binder again, she perused the old photos more closely this time. “Well, I’ll be damned. . . .”

Apparently, Mr. Boom Boom was not always Boom Boom. At one time he was Bryce Boom, owner of six-pack abs and a successful male model career.

“Wow.” Sadie blinked in surprise at the difference from success to addict. It was nearly impossible to call them the same man.

At the back of the binder were a number of envelopes and, near as Sadie could figure, they held general keepsakes like check stubs and contracts. She had no idea why Boom Boom would want to pass this stuff along to Rosie, but she knew it wasn’t her job to second-guess someone’s final request. Sadie would do as the ghost had asked.

It would be hours before she could pass along Boom Boom’s bequest, so she called Maeva to see if she felt up to company. She was surprised to hear that she wasn’t at her Psychic Café and was told by the receptionist that Maeva had gone home sick with a headache and had canceled all her readings for the day, so Sadie didn’t want to bother her but she also didn’t want to go home to deal with grumpy Zack. She dialed Dawn’s number next. She should really try to find a way to apologize to her sister. But Dawn quickly told Sadie she was on her way out the door to bring baby Dylan to his Gymboree class, and she hung up before Sadie could muster up an “I’m sorry.”

With a sigh she realized there was no avoiding it. She needed to try to get some one-on-one time with dear old dad. Maybe she could convince Aunt Lynn to take Mom out for a while. She knew Mom hated when she showed up at the house with the Scene-2-Clean company van, but there was no helping it tonight.

Before she headed back to Mom’s house for casserole cooking and deep chats with her dead father, Sadie decided to restock the van with the heavy-duty equipment required for a decomp job, and that meant a pit stop at home first.

As she drove toward home, Sadie began to feel guilty about leaving Zack alone and in pain. She thought of the time she’d broken her wrist when she fell off her bike when she was ten. It had hurt like hell, and sitting in front of a television all day wasn’t nearly as much fun as she’d thought it would be. Just before she reached home Sadie stopped at the grocery store and picked up a pint of Chunky Monkey ice cream because it was Zack’s favorite. She figured she could bolster his mood with a bowl of ice cream and maybe a neck massage.

Sadie rolled up the garage door and veered around Zack’s Mustang in the driveway to park next to her Honda. Sadie wondered briefly who had brought Zack’s vehicle back from Sunnyside Avenue and figured it was probably a cop friend. She spent just a couple moments loading equipment into the back of the van. It didn’t take long. During the last few weeks when there’d been very little work, Sadie had organized and reorganized her supplies and then stocked and restocked the van. She snagged her camera from the duffel bag because she needed to load the pictures onto her computer and print some for her own file and some for the mall’s insurance company. Zack, despite his crabbing, would want to see the pictures too. But all that could wait until after Zack got a little love, attention, and ice cream.

With ice cream in one hand and camera in the other, Sadie entered the house from the garage. The door opened into a small room that doubled as a shower and laundry area. When she worked a scene, she’d always strip down in this room, shower, and leave everything from work behind before walking into the rest of her house. She didn’t stop for a shower this time, deciding to visit Zack first.

She opened the door and stepped into the hall. She heard the television and opened her mouth to call out to Zack; then she heard another sound that stopped her cold. A female giggle.

Sadie’s fingernails cut into her palms as she strode down the hall, past the bedrooms, and into the living room.

Zack was on the sofa, where she’d left him, his foot still resting on a pillow on the coffee table. The end table at his elbow still held the bottle of Advil and the phone. It was also now home to a half-finished bottle of Smirnoff vodka. Kneeling on the floor between the coffee table and the sofa was Paula Wicks. She still wore her nursing uniform. Neither one looked back to see Sadie staring at them from the hall.

Paula giggled again and murmured something that made Zack laugh. Then she raised herself up on her knees and looked intently at Zack’s foot.

Sadie held her breath.

She’s a nurse and he’s got a broken ankle, Sadie’s good side reminded her.

They’ve been drinking together, her bad side said. And she isn’t looking at his ankle in a nurse-patient kind of way.

It was like watching an accident in slow motion as Sadie saw Paula lean over Zack’s foot and proceeded to plant feathery little kisses along the swollen skin.

An animalistic growl escaped Sadie’s throat and Paula leaped guiltily to her feet.

“Sadie!” she exclaimed. “We were just, um . . . I was just, um—”

“I saw what you were ‘just’!” Sadie screamed. She stormed over to Zack, smacked him hard on the head with the palm of her hand, and then flung the bag containing the pint of ice cream at Paula, making a direct hit on her nose.

“Ow!” Paula shrieked. As she grappled in the air to catch the ice cream, Sadie watched with mixed satisfaction and horror as it landed heavily on Zack’s sore ankle and he matched Paula’s shriek of pain with one of his own.

5

Sadie was out of the house so quickly she barely remembered backing the van out of the garage and driveway.

The problem with a lumbering company van was that the accelerator couldn’t move the vehicle beyond seventy, and even if Sadie wanted to bolt from the scene, a car crash a couple blocks ahead had traffic at a crawl. Sadie did what any self-respecting, pissed-off woman would do. She sat in her vehicle and let loose an earth-shattering scream. She yelled over and over until her throat burned from the effort. Then her screams turned to tears. Afterward her head hurt from the sound of her own vocal cords and her hands hurt from pounding them on the dashboard.

When she arrived back at her mom’s house, she was both immensely relieved and somewhat disappointed to read a note from her mother saying she had gone to run errands with Aunt Lynn.

“Dad, if you’re around I could use someone to talk to,” Sadie shouted to the empty house as she paced from one room to the next.

It took a moment, but her dad finally did appear. Kind of.

“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked, looking her father over.

“You’re only half here. Where are your legs?”

Dad looked down and shrugged. “I don’t know. I told you I haven’t mastered this going back and forth thing. I don’t get it. If I’m dead, shouldn’t I be, well, dead? Gone? Vanished?” He tossed his hands up in the air in frustration.

“You must have unfinished business here,” Sadie said, but she couldn’t look him in the eye as she said it. “You have to find out what’s keeping you here and stopping you from going over.” She looked up. “But before we talk about that, can you tell me why men are such assholes?”

“Trouble in the land of love?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a familiar way that always used to make Sadie laugh.

Today, Sadie didn’t even crack a smile.

“Zack broke his ankle, so he’s laid up. I just found his ex-girlfriend kissing his boo-boo all better on my sofa.”

“When you say kissing his boo-boo, do you mean his—”

“His ankle, Dad!” Sadie shouted. “You didn’t think I meant . . .” She shook her head and shuddered at the thought of discussing things of a sexual nature with her dad. She added quickly, “I think Zack’s in too much pain to do anything anyway.”

“A man will tolerate a helluva a lot of pain for a chance of sex,” Dad said wisely.

“Gee, thanks. You’re a lot of help; you know that?”

“Just telling you the truth,” he said sincerely. “Look, Sadie, if you think Zack has feelings for this ex-girlfriend, why don’t you just ask him about it? Or better yet, tell him to keep the hell away from her because it pisses you off. Take a stand. Let him know how you feel.”

“I think smacking him on the head and attacking her with a pint of Chunky Monkey told him how I feel.”

“Probably you should’ve just used your words.”

“Yeah. Maybe. But what do I say? ‘Stay away from your ex-girlfriend’? That sounds a little, well, jealous.”

“You are jealous.”

“I’m pissed off and insulted, not jealous,” Sadie corrected. She sighed, sat down hard on a kitchen chair, and rubbed her temples. She thought of Paula’s lips on Zack’s foot and she wanted to punch a hole in the wall.

“I guess I am a little jealous,” Sadie admitted.

“And this is exactly why a man shouldn’t live with his girlfriend without marriage,” her father lectured. “There are all these kinds of questions about what is appropriate and what’s not and how far you go in your commitment. Hell, if you’re married you know damn well you don’t even look at your ex-girlfriend without your wife’s permission because she’ll kill you and—”

“Zack asked me to marry him last month,” Sadie said quietly.

“Wait a second. You mean to tell me that in addition to the secret about you talking to ghosts, you also got engaged and didn’t tell us? That kind of information would’ve been nice to know when I was alive,” he said, sounding hurt.

“I didn’t say yes.”

“You told the guy you wouldn’t marry him, and then you’re surprised that he’s letting his ex-girlfriend kiss him?”

“First of all, she didn’t kiss him. She kissed his foot.” Sadie didn’t know why that distinction was important, but it was. “Second, I didn’t tell him I wouldn’t marry him. I just didn’t say yes.”

“You always were a complicated girl,” Dad said with a chuckle. “I remember when you went away to summer camp and the other kids all made clay ashtrays to take home, but you argued that nobody in your family smoked so you didn’t want an ashtray. Instead, you came home with a coffee mug that didn’t have a handle.”

“It was a candy bowl, and why would anyone want an ashtray if they didn’t smoke?”

“The point is that you could’ve just gone along but you didn’t.”

“You want me to go along now?” Sadie asked quietly. “Do you want me to tell Zack I’ll marry him?”

“Only if that’s what you want. I just want you to be happy, hon. Do you love him?”

“I think so.”

“Thinking so isn’t good enough.”

“I do,” she said more forcefully. “I do love him but . . .” She searched for the right words. “I guess I just don’t know if I want to get married.” She looked down at her hands. “I remember some pretty tense times between you and Mom a few years ago.”

“Our son killed himself,” Dad retorted. “Things like that can tear a family apart. Strong couples can find themselves unable to look each other in the eye anymore. I’m sure you see that all the time in your line of work.”

Sadie only nodded.

“In the end,” Dad continued, “your mother and I were able to lean on each other.”

“I’m talking the weeks before Brian died. Right after Christmas.” Sadie pinned him with a firm glare. “I dropped by for a visit and found Mom alone. Really alone. She said you’d moved out but she wouldn’t say why.”

“I didn’t know she told anyone,” he said, a pained look in his eyes. “Did Brian know? Do you think that’s why—”

This was the worst part about suicide. Forever and for always those left behind asked themselves what they did to make it happen.

“No,” Sadie said emphatically. She couldn’t bear for her father to think the separation had caused his son to take his own life. “I was the only one Mom told. Brian didn’t know.”

Dad seemed to debate what to say next. “If you’re looking for me to tell you why we split, well, that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not? If it was just a simple spat, then what difference does it make now?”

“Sometimes if you reopen old wounds, it’s hard to remember that all has been forgiven.”

“But it’s not like telling me the truth now will make Mom angry all over again,” Sadie pushed. “And maybe hearing how you two got over that rough patch will help me with Zack.”

“Then ask your mother about it,” he replied, holding up his hand to stop her when she would’ve argued. He added ominously, “Sometimes there’s no benefit in picking the scab off an old sore. Sometimes it just makes it hurt fresh.”

His face had taken on a faraway look and Sadie knew he was thinking of that time when things hadn’t been all Ozzie and Harriet in the Novak household. Then he blinked hard to break from his reverie and looked Sadie in the eye.

“I’m not going to tell you that marriage is a cakewalk. You know your mom and I patched things up and, yes, we had our squabbles afterward too, but these last few years together were some of the best. Marriage is hard, Sadie, but anything worth having is. You know that.”

Sadie nodded and found her throat clogging with emotion as she thought about Zack.

“Maybe I’m not cut out for the long haul,” she said.

She wanted her dad to offer words of wisdom. To give her specific advice. Instead, he threw up his hands and said simply, “Well, life is a crapshoot.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Those are your words of wisdom to your daughter? ‘Life is a crapshoot’? You’re dead and you’re talking to me from the great beyond, and that’s the best you’ve got?”

“That and never forget to change the oil on your car,” he said with a wink.

Sadie couldn’t help but laugh at that, and while she giggled to herself she watched her dad’s face grow serious.

“But what about me?” he asked. “Is this all there is? You try to live a good life, and the best you can hope for is blinking in and out like a lightbulb and having only one person who can see you?”

“Aren’t you glad we get a chance to talk like this?” Sadie asked with reproach. “I like to think we’re making up for lost time. Not many people get this kind of opportunity.”

“Ahhh, Sadie, of course it’s great to have a chance to say good-bye, but for how long do I have to—”

He stopped short when the front door opened and Sadie’s mom and Aunt Lynn walked into the house. When Sadie glanced back, her dad had vanished.

“Why is that eyesore in my driveway?” Mom asked.

“I have to go to work later,” Sadie replied, knowing Mom was complaining of the company van. “Hi, Aunt Lynn.”

“Hi, yourself,” Aunt Lynn replied. “You’re off to mop up Seattle’s dead, are you?”

“Don’t talk like that,” Mom hissed.

“Your daughter does a real service, Peggy. There’s no need for you to act like she’s a stripper or a politician.”

Sadie snorted at that.

“I hear you’re making dinner,” Lynn said.

Damn. She’d momentarily forgotten about her offer to cook.

“Mom reminded me of the two dozen casseroles in the fridge and freezer and said we should eat one of those.”

“She’s right,” Lynn said. “People went to good effort to make that crap. The least we can do is try it before we throw it out.” Lynn rubbed her hands together with a smile. “And I’ll call Dawn and John and see if they feel like coming by. I’m sure your sister could use a break from cooking too.”

Sadie opened her mouth to protest and then shut it again.

“What?” her mom asked. “You look like you were about to say that wasn’t a good idea.”

“Um, Dawn took Dylan to his Gymboree class. I don’t know when she’ll be home,” Sadie told her mom. Her cell phone rang, and the display said it was coming from home.

“Hello,” she answered, walking into the guest room to take the call in private.

“Hi,” Zack said. “I know you’re pissed off—”

“Pissed off?” Sadie repeated with a snarl. “I walk into my house to see your ex-girlfriend fulfilling her foot fetish fantasies and you enjoying it. Why on earth would I be pissed off?”

“It wasn’t like that, and you know it. She came by to see me because she felt bad about my foot and—”

“What did you say?” Sadie stopped him short. There was something in the way Zack was talking . . .

“I said she felt bad I got hurt at her mother’s house and she came by to see my ankle, and what you saw was just goofing around and nothing more.”

Sadie noticed his words were slow, deliberate, and somewhat slurred.

“Did you finish the rest of that vodka before calling me?” Sadie asked. “Because you sound drunk.”

“It’s prolly jusss these painkillers.”

“Painkillers? What painkillers?”

“Paula brought me something to take the edge off.”

“You’d think a nurse would know better than to give an ex-addict drugs,” Sadie barked. She immediately felt awful for throwing his past in his face, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She softened her tone and continued. “You and I both know you can’t take those kinds of pills, and you sure as hell can’t drink while taking them! Paula should know that too. Unless . . .” A sudden realization hit Sadie. “Oh, my God, she doesn’t know! You never told her the reason you’re no longer a cop.”

“So? I had to tell you at the time because you were hiring me,” he reminded Sadie, his words taking on a sharp tone. “I didn’t exactly put an ad in the Times saying Zack Bowman got addicted to pain pills and had to quit the force before they fired him. Just because I told you about it doesn’t mean I was spreading it around to everyone I dated.”

Sadie took a deep breath and tried to be reasonable. “But if she’s giving you drugs that you shouldn’t be taking, maybe then you could mention it.” Her voice sounded calm but her blood was beginning to boil. “Maybe I should come home and we can talk about it.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Zack insisted. “Look, the other line’s ringing. We’ll talk later.” He disconnected before Sadie could say anything more.

“Damn!” Angrily she stomped her foot.

Sadie took a breath and told herself that just because Zack took some pain meds for a broken ankle and had a couple drinks didn’t mean he was going to slip back into addiction. However, worry coiled tightly in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t known Zack when he was a cop but she knew his history. He took a bullet for a partner, became addicted to Vicodin that he washed down with booze, and began spiraling out of control until he gave a potential suspect a beating and nearly killed him. After that, Zack handed in his badge before he could be fired, and he couldn’t even get a job washing toilets until Sadie hired him to clean much worse than that.

Sadie didn’t want to see Zack flush away his life but she also couldn’t trust Paula not to feed him more painkillers. Especially if she had no knowledge of the damage she was doing to Zack by offering him the pills. Sadie snatched up the phone and dialed Paula Wicks. Seconds later she was listening to the phone ring in her ear.

“Hello?” a young female voice said smoothly into her ear. The voice did not sound like Paula’s.

“Hi, is Paula there?”

“No, she’s visiting her mom at Cedar House.”

“Oh.” Sadie debated leaving her a message, but there was a good chance Paula wouldn’t call back after getting beaned in the nose with Chunky Monkey. She was thinking about it when she became aware that the woman had spoken.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Sadie mumbled.

“I asked if I could take a message.”

“No. I’ll try back later,” Sadie said, and disconnected. She dialed 411 again to get information on Cedar House, and then she left the guest room to see her mom and aunt.

“We’ve put the casserole in the oven,” Aunt Lynn announced. “We have about an hour before our mystery meal.”

“Mystery meal?” Sadie asked.

“This one had no label on it,” Mom explained. “We think it’s some kind of chili but we’re not sure.”

Great.

“If we’ve got an hour, maybe I’ll run to the market for some fresh vegetables for salad,” Sadie said, already snagging her purse and keys from the living room.

“Well, we do have the leftover vegetables with dip from the funeral,” Aunt Lynn said.

“I feel like salad,” Sadie said.

“A salad might be nice,” her mom agreed. “Especially considering we have no idea what we’re having for the main course.”

“I’ll be back in no time.” Sadie waved and didn’t wait for a reply before she hurried out the door. She climbed into her van and hit the road, pointing her vehicle away from her mother’s house and in the direction of Cedar House.

Luckily, it wasn’t far away and traffic wasn’t heavy. Sadie found herself parking her van outside the care facility only ten minutes later. She pulled her keys from the ignition and stared at the building. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be tracking down Paula while the woman was visiting her senile mother. Then she thought about Paula giving Zack pain pills and vodka and kissing his foot.

“Like hell I shouldn’t be here,” Sadie said haughtily.

She climbed out of the van and had begun walking toward the front of the building when she saw a familiar face coming toward her.

“Hey, Petrovich!” Sadie called out.

The detective looked up at the sound of her voice, and Sadie quickened her pace to catch up with him.

“You checkin’ in or visiting?” Petrovich asked Sadie as he nodded toward the senior home behind him.

“Ha-ha.” Sadie smiled. “I take it you were interviewing Mimi Wicks?”

“Yup. Got lucky. Caught her on a good day.”

“So she was able to tell you why there was a mummified baby in a box in her house?”

“Yup. Got it right here.” He pulled out his notepad and read his notes out loud. “She figures she picked it up at a yard sale.”

“Oh.” Sadie suppressed a smile. “Guess your job just got harder.”

He shrugged. “Once DNA comes back, we’ll know if the corpse was related to Wicks, but if it isn’t, I’m not sure where we’ll go from there.” He narrowed his eyes. “And what would you be doing here? I didn’t think you and Mrs. Wicks would be on visiting terms.”

“I’m trying to catch up with Paula about something.”

“I didn’t see her but the nurse said she visits every day about this time.” He eyed Sadie curiously. “Any particular reason why you’re tracking her down here rather than calling her up on the phone?”

“I was in the area,” Sadie offered vaguely.

“Huh.”

Sadie parted company with Petrovich and decided to wait for Paula inside Cedar House. A large black woman manned the reception desk and she looked up from her busy phone lines to quickly inform Sadie that she could go right into the visiting lounge. Sadie eyed the woman’s name badge.

“Thanks, Noreen, but I’m just waiting to meet Mimi Wicks’ daughter, Paula, and—”

“Then you can talk to Mrs. Wicks in the meantime,” Noreen said, narrowing her eyes at Sadie with distrust. “It isn’t like she’s going to jump up and bite you.” Noreen nodded to the room next door. “Mimi will be on the purple sofa ’cause that’s her favorite, and she’ll be the one in purple pants because, you guessed it, purple is her favorite.”

Sadie wanted to protest but Noreen turned back to her busy phones, and there was no place to sit in the outer room.

Sadie figured she might as well go inside.

She stepped around the corner and into a brightly lit open area. A wood plaque above the door was engraved VISITORS’ LOUNGE. Inside the spacious room were a dozen small round tables each grouped with seating for four. Cozied around those tables were seniors as old as dirt, some in wheelchairs or sporting walkers. A few meandered slowly around the room while others sat, or slumped, across from visiting family members. Many of them chatting comfortably but some were barely awake or drooling.

Then there were the others in the room.

Sadie cringed at the sight of a woman shuffling around the room with one paper slipper on and one off. Multiple tubes ran in her mouth and nose, and as she made her way across the room, she shuffled right on through one of the families gathered at a table. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused, probably much like they had been at death. A table in the corner offered store-bought cookies and a carafe of coffee. A pruned old man stood next to that table trying valiantly to grab a handful of cookies, but his hands just passed through their target.

Sadie’s eyes skipped past the ghosts to cruise along the circumference of the room. There was one wall of windows letting in the August sunshine. Beneath the windows and along the next wall were a variety of loudly patterned sofas. Residents taking up space on the couches were the ones obviously waiting for a visitor. They all glanced over at Sadie with hope gleaming in their eyes.

“Who are you here to see, honey pie?” a warbled old-man voice called out to Sadie.

Sadie glanced over to see a skinny man with a hunched back walking spryly toward her. He was ninety if he was a day.

“I’m just waiting for someone,” Sadie said.

“Who?” the skinny man asked again. Sadie coolly looked him in the eyes. He might have been taller at one time, but his permanent hunch had him at Sadie’s height.

“Paula Wicks. I’m meeting her here.”

“Paula? Mimi’s daughter? Well, you might as well go sit with ol’ Sugar Bottom then.” He nodded his head toward the sofas on the far side.

“Sugar Bottom?” Sadie asked. The corner of her lips curled into a smile.

“Yup. She’s a sweetie.” He winked at Sadie and hooked a thumb in the direction of the purple couch in the corner.

There was only one purple sofa and only one old woman in purple pants. That old gal was obviously Mimi Wicks. She sported raven black hair with white roots that made her look like a skunk, and she was the only resident on a sofa who was not looking at Sadie with hope in her eyes.

“Look, Mister . . .”

“Call me Marvin.” He gave Sadie a huge smile that almost caused him to lose his dentures.

“Nice to meet you, Marvin, but Mrs. Wicks doesn’t know me. I’m just here because I wanted to ask Paula a few questions. I’d rather not disturb Mrs. Wicks.”

“Are you another cop?” Marvin asked, looking Sadie critically up and down.

“No. I’m just a friend of her daughter’s.”

“Well, this ain’t a Starbucks, you know.” He chuckled loudly at that. “If you’re here during visit hours, you’ve gotta visit.” He leaned in a little closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. “If you don’t pick someone to sit and chat with, the wannabes against the far wall are liable to tear each other apart to get to you.”

Sadie followed his gaze and noticed for the first time that the few elderly folks without visitors were literally sitting on the edge of their seats, ready to spring up if Sadie offered them an encouraging glance.

“In this place there’s not a lot to do if you don’t get a visitor and you don’t play cards,” he said.

Just then another geriatric, this one a very naked old man with a turkey neck, began dancing a jig over by the corner window. Sadie smiled in spite of herself. If passing motorists saw him, they’d be liable to run their cars into a pole.

“Mr. Hamley!” shouted an orderly as he entered the room. “We’ve talked about this before. You wanna bounce your booty, you gotta do it in your room. I keep telling you, Cedar House doesn’t have any clothing-optional days.”

The orderly was swiftly joined by two others. Quick as can be, they draped a hospital gown over Mr. Hamley and then brought him to a small round table and handed him a deck of cards.

“Mr. Hamley always thinks it’s a clothing-optional day,” Marvin chuckled.

Sadie giggled. “Okay, I guess you’re right,” Sadie told Marvin. “I’ll go chat with Mimi Wicks until Paula gets here.”

“Great idea.” He nodded his approval. “She could use someone else besides cops and that daughter or her good-for-nothing friends visiting.”

“Will you join us?” Sadie asked.

Marvin shook his head. “I’ll go make sure Mr. Hamley has company.”

So Sadie ambled over to the faded purple couch on her own. She took a seat, leaving a cushion between herself and Mimi Wicks. Across the room, all the visitor hopefuls sighed and sat back with disappointment.

“You got chocolate?” Mimi asked.

“Um. No. Sorry,” Sadie replied.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced toward the ninety-year-old still grabbing for cookies. Being around old people made Sadie nervous. Particularly if they weren’t already dead.

“How about a mint?” Mimi asked.

“I might have gum,” Sadie offered. She picked up her purse and began rifling through it until she came up with a package of peppermint gum.

Mimi snatched the entire package from Sadie’s hand, popped the remaining three gum squares from their foil pack, and then jammed them into her mouth all at once.

“Are you a cop?” Mimi asked, chomping loudly on the gum.

“No. I’m a friend of Paula’s.”

“Really?” Mimi looked at her with new interest. “What’s your name?”

“Sadie.”

“If you want to see Paula, why are you here?”

“I was told she was here.”

“She was here,” Mimi said, chomp, chomp, chomping some more on her mouthful of gum. “She came earlier than usual but only stayed a minute. She’s working an extra shift to pay for this great spa she stuck me in.”

“Oh. Guess I’ll go then,” Sadie said, getting to her feet.

“You don’t have to go right away,” Mimi said quickly.

“What did you say your name was?”

“Sadie Novak.”

“Sadie Novak?” Mimi scrunched up her face and snapped the gum loudly. “The only Sadie I ever heard Paula talk about was a man-stealing slut who cleaned blood ’n’ guts for a living.” Chomp. Chomp. Snap.

“Huh. Is that right?” Sadie scowled and sat back down hard. “And did Miss Paula happen to mention whether or not she was still interested in Sadie’s man?”

“You mean Zack?” Mimi asked, making more loud snapping noise with her gum.

Sadie nodded.

“You got anything else? This gum is aggravating my acid reflux.” Mimi burped and spat the wad of gum into her hand, looked around, and then jammed it between the sofa cushions.

Yuk!

Sadie rummaged through her purse again and came up with a roll of cherry LifeSavers with one candy left. She offered the roll to Mimi, who picked some lint off the red candy before tossing it into her mouth.

“You were saying about Zack?” Sadie prompted Mimi encouragingly.

“He’s with you, isn’t he? You live together?” Mimi asked, “What are you worried about?”

Sadie didn’t know how to respond to that so she just sat quietly, listening to the sucking noises Mimi made when she slurped on the candy.

She got up to leave then, but before she walked away she thought about the mummified baby, and curiosity got the better of her.

“So I guess you were surprised to hear what we found inside your house,” Sadie said.

“Kind of, but then, not really,” Mimi said with a shrug. “People put the strangest things in boxes. Sometimes valuable stuff and they just forget it’s there.”

“We’re not talking about old savings bonds here. This was a baby. Somebody’s child.”

Mimi was nonplussed. “Maybe the baby died and the people couldn’t afford a funeral, and they may have stashed it away until they could afford a proper burial,” Mimi suggested. “Then if they fell on hard times and started selling off their belongings for fast cash, I prolly came along and bought a box . . . and there you have it.” The old woman looked pleased with her reasoning.

“Is that what you told Detective Petrovich?”

“No, but I shoulda suggested that because it makes perfect sense. That detective’s nosing around for a crime when there isn’t one. The Seattle crime rate must be dropping.”

“But wouldn’t you have noticed if you bought a box that contained a dead baby instead of someone’s china teacups?”

“Sometimes I checked what was in the boxes and sometimes I didn’t.” Mimi shrugged. “Lots of times I was in a hurry and I just wanted to get the stuff home, and then I’d forget to check inside to see what I got. I liked buying entire boxes of stuff. It was always a surprise then.”

A dead baby must’ve been just like Christmas, Sadie thought sarcastically.

“I guess the autopsy will prove if the baby died of natural causes or not,” Sadie said. “And, in the meantime, Detective Petrovich is going to have to go through your house top to bottom.”

“Yeah.” Mimi’s face clouded over. “That’s what he said. I don’t like strangers going through my stuff. It’s silly that the detective thinks he has to go through all my boxes now.” She rubbed her arms as if she was suddenly chilled. “Like he has to make sure there aren’t any other babies. What? He thinks I collected them or something?” She cackled at that and then, after a minute, her face darkened again. “I don’t like people going through my things. All of that stuff is mine. I paid for it. It belongs to me.”

Sadie thought of the ruby lips of the ghost screaming the stuff was his. She shuddered. She’d love to ask Mimi about the ghost but didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding like she was applying to be a roommate at Cedar House.

“I’m sure they’ll be real careful of your stuff,” Sadie said. She didn’t remind Mimi that Paula had already hired Sadie and Zack to have the majority of her mother’s hoard of stuff hauled out to the Dumpster in the driveway.

“It’s my stuff,” Mimi repeated. She crossed her arms across her chest and harrumphed. Sadie realized it was time to leave.

“Well, I guess I should get going. I’m supposed to be having dinner with my own mother.”

“Well, that’s nice,” Mimi said, her face bright again. “Paula never came around to eat with me when I lived on Sunnyside. All because of all my things. That’s what she said. She said it was on account of the stuff.” Mimi sighed. “She coulda just taken me out. Even McDonald’s.” She sighed again.

Sadie agreed. She’d met hoarders before, and she knew they suffered from a mental illness. Mimi couldn’t help her compulsion to fill her house with stuff any more than a schizophrenic could stop the voices inside his head.

Sadie hesitated. Maybe there was a way to ask Mimi about the ghost inside the old woman’s house without sounding crazy herself.

“I’m curious, Mimi. What was Paula’s dad like? I know he died a dozen years ago, when Paula was just fourteen, right?”

“George died in 1994. Paula was twelve.” Mimi’s face clouded over, and she sniffed and dabbed at the corners of her eyes filled with fresh tears like he’d passed on just yesterday. “Paula took it hard, of course. She was an only child and Daddy’s little girl.” She pulled a tissue from her cleavage and blew her nose loudly. “I told George to stop smoking.”

“Cancer?” Sadie asked gently. “Must’ve been tough being a single mom with a teenager.” She paused and then dove right in. “After George died were there, like, um, strange things happening inside the house?”

“Strange things?” Mimi’s penciled-in eyebrows rose in confusion. “You mean all the stuff I bought?”

“Sure, or, you know, even other stuff. Noises. Things falling down without reason.”

Mimi looked at Sadie quizzically. “I don’t think I get what you mean. Are you asking if George haunted us?”

There was laughter in Mimi’s eyes that proclaimed that to be a definite no. Sadie sat down and made a production of searching her purse for more goodies and came up with a roll of Tums. Mimi greedily snapped them up and crunched the chalky tablets like they were candy.

“I can tell Paula looks like you,” Sadie said, deciding on a different course of action. “She’s got your eyes and your nose.” Sadie eyed the old woman critically as if looking for further resemblance. “But Paula’s not very tall, and wasn’t her dad a huge man, well over six feet?”

Mimi shook her head. “Nope, George wasn’t tall. He used to tell everyone he was five foot seven but that was only ’cause I’m five foot six and he wanted to be taller. He was big the other way, though.” Mimi laughed and held out her hands to show a large belly. “From the time he was forty, he looked like he could pop out a ten-pound baby at any second. Why did you think he was over six feet?”

“Maybe I saw a picture at the house or something,” Sadie offered vaguely.

“Oh, wait a second. You must be talking about Moe.”

“Moe?” Sadie asked, her heart skipping a little in her chest.

Mimi nodded. “Uncle Moe. My brother. He lived with us for a few years after George died. He was a real sport about helping out with Paula. He even took Paula and Carole out driving.”

“Carole?” Sadie asked. “That would be the neighbor girl?”

“That’s right.” Mimi nodded. “Bertrude’s girl. Carole and Paula were close as sisters back then. They weren’t of age to drive at the time, but he’d take ’em out to the mall parking lots early, before the stores opened, and let them get a feel for being behind the wheel. Of course, he thought I didn’t know.” She chuckled. “God, I miss him.” Tears leaked down her cheeks again and she quickly mopped at her face.

“When did Moe die?”

“Let’s see.” She crunched the bits of Tums in her mouth and tapped her chin thoughtfully. “In 2005, I believe. His heart. Barely had time to visit him once before he was gone.”

Sadie was thoughtful and wondered if Moe was indeed the angry ghost staking claim on Mimi’s belongings. Mimi jostled Sadie from her thoughts by reaching for Sadie’s purse.

“Check for more candy,” Mimi demanded. She managed to get her hands on the bottle of Vicodin pain pills in Sadie’s purse.

“Nope.” Sadie took the bottle from Mimi’s hand. “Those belong to Zack. He broke his ankle.” She got up to leave for good this time. “When I talk to Paula, do you want me to ask her to bring you some candy?”

“Won’t do any good,” Mimi grumped. “Paula said with all she’s paying for this place, she can’t afford any treats.”

Sadie figured it was pretty cheap of Paula to withhold a couple dollars’ worth of candy when it was obvious the sweets brought her mom such joy. She said good-bye to Mimi and headed out of the building. Sadie felt disappointed she’d missed the opportunity to tell off Paula but at least she was walking away with something: the identity of an angry ghost named Moe.

6

Sadie didn’t want to totally miss the opportunity to give Paula a piece of her mind so she dialed Paula’s cell phone number. The call went straight to voice mail.

“Paula, this is Sadie. Call me as soon as you can.” She repeated her cell phone number on Paula’s voice mail, and then she added, “It’s important, and I’m not calling about you kissing Zack’s foot.” She added emphatically, “Although that was a little above and beyond the call of your friendship duties. Anyway, call me.”

Just to be sure she covered all her bases, Sadie also sent her a text message, and she felt marginally better until she looked at the clock and realized she’d have to hurry. Mom liked to eat at five. Not five thirty. Not six o’clock. Five, and it was inching up to that time now. Sadie whipped into the market, picked up salad fixings, and then drove over to her mother’s house.

“It’s quarter past,” Mom grumped when Sadie walked in the door.

“Sorry,” Sadie said, hustling directly into the kitchen with her bags.

“Relax, Peggy,” Aunt Lynn said. “I just checked the casserole and it still has a couple minutes before it’s heated through.”

Sadie began chopping up the cucumbers and slicing tomatoes.

“No tomatoes for me,” came a voice behind her.

Sadie glanced up and acknowledged her father with a smile. “You always hated tomatoes,” Sadie replied.

“No, I don’t,” said Mom. “Your father’s the one who hated tomatoes. That’s why I never bought them and—” She sniffed. “Guess I can start buying tomatoes now.”

“Oh, God, here come the waterworks.” Dad rolled his eyes.

“Have a little compassion,” Sadie murmured under her breath.

Dad disappeared and dinner was quiet. While mom ate her salad, she determinedly stabbed each tomato on her plate. Every time she crammed one into her mouth, she then let out a little sob.

“I think it’s too soon for tomatoes,” Lynn said quietly.

“Yeah,” Sadie agreed.

The casserole was a mishmash of something resembling risotto and peppers, but the mixture was more like glue because it had obviously been overcooked even before being frozen and reheated.

“I bet this one’s from Brenda Hunt,” Aunt Lynn complained as she scraped food from one corner of her plate to the other. “Brenda’s always trying to make things with peppers, but everything she makes turns ’em into mush. She just doesn’t get that veggies don’t have to be soggy to be cooked.”

Sadie placed her fork in the food but it hadn’t found its way to her mouth yet. Her mind was drifting toward ugly thoughts. She was thinking of Zack taking pain pills and drinking vodka while laughing with Paula.

“You’re bending your fork,” Lynn said.

Sadie glanced at the utensil in her hand and realized she was, in fact, causing it to bend with the force she was using to stab the food on her plate. She loosened her grip and forced a few bits of risotto into her mouth before getting up to clear the table.

“Sorry, but I have to get back to work,” Sadie said.

Mom said, “You should bring some leftover casserole to Zack first. A good meal might make him feel better.”

“Except this isn’t a good meal,” Aunt Lynn quipped.

“Still, I’ve seen that man eat, and it’ll warm his belly even if he doesn’t really taste it.”

“I’m not going home. I’m going to work.”

“Later then,” Lynn said, getting up from the table and carrying the casserole dish with her. “We’ll just wrap this up, and you can take it with you and give it to Zack after you’re done working.”

“I’m sleeping here again tonight,” Sadie said, although she didn’t realize she’d made that decision until the words were out of her mouth.

She saw a knowing look pass between her mom and Lynn.

“You can’t let a thing like your dad’s death come between you and your man,” Aunt Lynn said softly.

“She’s right,” Mom said. “We were talking about it earlier. I’m fine. You should go home and be with Zack and stop focusing so much on your dad.”

“This isn’t about Dad. This is about me and Zack. Things have been . . . difficult.”

“It’s a difficult time, and people handle grief differently,” Aunt Lynn sagely pointed out.

“Yeah, except this started before Dad passed away.”

“Tell her about that whore kissing his foot,” Dad said, unable to keep a smirk off his face. “It’ll be fun listening to these two talk about that after you’re gone.”

“Be quiet,” Sadie murmured.

“Your aunt’s just trying to be helpful,” Mom said. “Don’t talk to her in that way.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” Sadie sighed. “I’ve gotta go do a job at the mall. Need anything?”

“Someone died at the mall?” Mom asked, appalled. “Which one?”

“Bellevue Square.”

“That hoity-toity place?” Lynn chuckled. “It was probably the prices that killed them.”

Sadie helped load the dishwasher and then headed toward Bellevue. She had time to kill and felt guilty that she’d left her mom’s so quickly when she still had hours before she had to go to work. But Mom would be fine with Aunt Lynn, and Sadie just wanted some alone time. She stopped for a coffee because she seriously needed to wash down the flavor of overcooked risotto and soggy green peppers. While she sipped her latte, she nibbled a chocolate biscotti and read a magazine. She managed to kill time until it was just after eight. By the time she got to the mall, she should have enough time to have a coffee break with Rosie, if possible, before she got off her shift at Orange Julius. Then Sadie would be ready to start her own job in the mall.

Sadie reached the shopping center and parked her company van in the discreet loading dock area that Earl Farina had suggested earlier. She snagged from the passenger seat a grocery sack in which she’d stuffed the three-ring binder and then headed inside the mall.

“I’m looking for Rosie,” Sadie said at the Orange Julius counter.

“I’m Rosie,” replied an exotic-looking young woman with perfectly tanned skin and high cheekbones.

“Hi. My name is Sadie Novak. I understand you were friends with Boom Boom.”

Rosie’s eyes grew big. “Are you from mall security?”

“No. Can you take a break so we can talk?”

“I’ll ask the shift supervisor.” Rosie walked over to talk to another girl of roughly the same age and then returned to Sadie.

“I can take a fifteen-minute break I’ve got coming to me,” Rosie explained.

“I’ll make it quick,” Sadie assured her, and they chose a seat a little distance from the Orange Julius counter.

“So how do you know Boom Boom?” Rosie asked.

“I don’t know him well, but he did tell me he wanted me to give you something.”

“Oh, God, he died, didn’t he?” Rosie asked, and her perfectly manicured fingers flew to her mouth in horror. “That was him in that changing room that everyone’s talking about.”

“Everyone knows about the person who died in the mall?”

“Sure.” Rosie nodded. “The mall staff all try to keep it hush-hush ’cause, you know, they don’t want to scare shoppers away, but some girls at Lululemon saw the coroner come and then rumors started.” She blinked quickly at Sadie. “So, was it him?”

Sadie nodded and then watched in surprise as Rosie began to cry. Large, beautiful tears tracked down her full cheekbones to her jawline. Sadie got up and snagged some serviettes from the counter and handed them to her, and Rosie delicately dabbed at her face without smudging her makeup.

“I knew it could happen one day, but I guess I just kept hoping he’d get help before the drugs took him.” Her voice was ragged with tears.

Sadie waited a few minutes until Rosie’s tears stopped, and then she pulled up the grocery sack she’d had on the floor at her feet and lifted the binder out. She handed it to Rosie, and the girl’s mouth formed an O of surprise.

“The book!” she exclaimed, and her fingers gently caressed the worn cover as if it was made of gold.

“You knew about it?” Sadie asked.

“He talked about it a lot,” Rosie said. Gingerly she opened the cover to the front page. “But I wasn’t sure how much he was exaggerating.”

“So you knew he modeled in his, um, better days?”

“Bryce Boom wasn’t just a model,” Rosie said, awe coloring her tone. “He was a model god. Perfect in every way until a photographer started slipping him a little something to brighten the look in his eyes when he looked a bit tired.”

Rosie shook her head sadly as she thumbed quickly through the pages, barely stopping until she reached the very back of the book where there were miscellaneous paraphernalia jammed into pockets in the back.

“Are you sure he wanted me to have this?” She stroked the plastic covering on the last page with the tip of her finger.

“Yes,” Sadie said. “It was his final request.”

“He always said he’d give it to me when I was ready but, honestly, he was usually kind of out of it when he made that promise, and I didn’t think I’d ever see the actual stuff.”

“It’s yours to keep,” Sadie told her. “Although I don’t know what he expected you to do with it.”

“He wanted me to go back to school,” Rosie answered quickly.

At Sadie’s confused look she continued, “I model. I’m just at the beginning of my career so I’m not nearly as successful as Bryce Boom, but I’ve made a few extra bucks now and Bryce introduced me to his agent. Things are starting to pick up for me, but Boom Boom warned me it was a quick burn. He always told me to get a skill and some sort of career to fall back on so that when the photo shoots stop, I’ve got something else to pay the bills. My agent agrees that they’ll work the shoots around my going to college, but I just never had any money to go through with it. Not until now.” Her tears started again. “Bryce was a good person. People couldn’t see that because they were trying too hard not to see him at all. He was gentle and kind with a good heart.” She swallowed thickly. “He didn’t deserve to die like that. Hiding out in a store under construction just so he didn’t have to sleep outside in the rain. A dog doesn’t deserve that.”

“Yeah,” Sadie agreed, and they sat in respectful silence for a moment until Sadie noticed the other Orange Julius girl was glaring in their direction, obviously wanting Rosie back behind the counter.

Sadie reached over and tapped the binder with her finger. “So, Rosie, how will these pictures help you go back to school?”

“Oh, not the pictures,” Rosie said. “The tickets.”

She reached into the back pocket of the binder to pull out an envelope tucked away. Very carefully, using a serviette instead of her fingers, Rosie retrieved a couple of tickets from a faded yellow envelope.

“Tickets?” Sadie repeated, confused.

Rosie held them up, and Sadie saw the date, venue, and performer.

“Oh, my God. The Beatles!” Sadie exclaimed in amazement. “Unused tickets for their 1966 concert in the Philippines. Wow!”

Rosie smiled and ever so carefully tucked the tickets back inside the envelope. “They’re extremely rare and worth mega-bucks. Bryce bought them at a charity auction during his heyday, and they were the only thing of value he had left in this world. He saved them for me.” Her face grew somber as she reached for a business card also tucked in the back of the binder. “This is a dealer willing to pay top dollar for those tickets. Thousands. Boom Boom made me promise that if he ever gave them to me, I’d use the money to go to dental hygienist school like my mom suggested. I’m going to do it. I won’t stop modeling, though, but I’ll do what Boom Boom asked. I hope I make him proud.”

Sadie reached over and patted the young girl’s hand. “He was already proud of you. I’m sure you’ll have two wonderful careers.”

Sadie waited in her van until she saw most of the mall workers slip out shortly after nine, and then she called the night security staff and they met her at the doors to help her unload. It was nearly ten o’clock by the time Sadie hauled all the bins and equipment she required into the hallway safe zone that she would use to don and doff her hazmat gear.

Once she was suited up and inside the mall store, she was ready to go to work cleaning the decomp area. First, though, she took a moment to talk to Boom Boom even though she no longer knew if he could hear her.

“You’ve done a very good thing. Rosie is determined to go back to school while modeling. She’s going to make you proud.”

Although there was no response because his spirit had moved on, Sadie liked to think Boom Boom heard her anyway.

She worked straight through the night, scrubbing decomp from walls and floor. Flooring and wallboard that couldn’t be cleaned were cut out and placed into the medical waste bins. If a material couldn’t be made sterile, she was required to remove it, and a renovation company would replace the damage that she’d done. Sloughed skin adhered to much of the changing room like petrified oatmeal, and it took a tremendous amount of elbow grease to complete the task. It was dawn when Sadie loaded the last of the equipment and medical waste bins into her van and said good-bye to Bellevue Square. A couple of the security officers assisted her in putting the stuff in the back of the Scene-2-Clean van, and Sadie was grateful for their help. Once she’d rolled the back door shut, she thanked them and watched them head back inside the mall. While she opened her driver’s-side door, Sadie checked her cell phone for missed calls but there weren’t any.

“Damn,” she muttered under her breath.

She’d been hoping for a call from Zack and she’d also been expecting one from Paula, but nobody had tried to reach her. Disappointed, she crammed her phone in her purse. She hoisted herself up onto the driver’s seat and quickly exclaimed, “Holy shit!”

The vinyl seats of her van had been torn to shreds by someone with a lot of anger and a sharp knife.

7

Someone had also taken a permanent marker to her dashboard and scrawled, “Go Away, Queen of Clean!”

“Queen of Clean?” Sadie rolled her eyes and laughed mirthlessly. “Nice. Real nice,” she grumbled sarcastically. With a whimper of exhaustion, she put her key into the ignition as she sat down on the tufts of stuffing that had been tugged from inside the seat cushion. “Obviously I forgot to lock up. Serves me right,” she mumbled, and yawned.

Sadie spied a clutch of punked-out teens across the lot.

“Stupid kids,” Sadie muttered under her breath. Vandals. It was the only explanation she could think of.

She drove the medical waste bins over to her storage unit and unloaded them there. They would stay in her storage facility until picked up by the medical waste company for disposal. The graffiti on her dash glared in her line of vision. If she’d been on speaking terms with Zack, this would’ve warranted a phone call to her boyfriend. They would’ve had a laugh over the Queen of Clean remark, and no doubt Zack would’ve teased her about the silly moniker for weeks. She sighed.

When she crawled back into bed in the guest room at her mom’s house, Sadie’s entire body ached with the fatigue of performing manual labor straight through the night.

“This was a lot easier when there were two of us,” she murmured sleepily into her pillow. Thoughts of Zack swirled around her head and made her heart ache with longing. She made a mental note to call him as she drifted into an exhausted sleep with unshed tears still in her eyes.

Sadie woke abruptly a few hours later with the feeling that someone was in the room. Her eyes sprang open to see her father sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her. At least Sadie thought he was staring at her. She couldn’t be certain because half of her father’s face was either missing or invisible.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said. “Or should I say afternoon?”

Sadie blinked at the digital clock in the corner.

“Afternoon is still an hour away.” Sadie stifled a yawn.

“It’s only eleven, so I think I’ll—” Her eyes drifted shut and she was back in dreamland, but her father’s words echoed through the fog.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said about whether I have unfinished business here,” Dad said. “I’ve got a few ideas about things we should talk about.”

Sadie blinked her eyes open and stretched.

“Maybe your unfinished business is just quality time with your daughter?” Sadie asked hopefully.

Dad looked at her somberly without reply.

“Okay, if we’re going to have a serious conversation, I should have a shower to wake up first.” Sadie swung her legs out of bed. “And I should probably say hi to Mom too.”

“Peggy checked in on you a few minutes ago, but now she’s outside doing some weeding in the garden.”

Sadie reached for her cell phone on the bedside table.

“And he hasn’t called,” Dad said.

Dad was right. No calls from Zack. The only missed call was from Maeva.

“You should call him,” Dad suggested. “You know you want to.”

“Later,” Sadie said. “Will you be here when I get back from my shower?”

“I’ll try.”

Once under the hot spray, she closed her eyes and leaned into the water, wishing it could wash away her troubles. She tried to think of a way to make things right with Zack. She also considered ways to keep Dad around for a little longer. She liked having him around and didn’t want him to leave. Not yet.

“Maybe not ever,” she murmured into the spray.

Sadie knew there was a good chance that eventually he’d move on without her help. Certainly the fact that he could barely force his physical image to fully appear must mean that he was already moving on at some level. That realization angered her. Why the hell couldn’t her talking-to-the-dead skill ever work in her favor? She pounded a fist against the tile wall in frustration.

After her shower she returned to the room, but Dad was gone. Hoping he’d return, she dressed quickly and went to the kitchen. She poured herself cold coffee from the pot on the counter, microwaved it until it was scalding, and waved to her mother, who was attacking dandelions on the far side of the yard.

Mom waved back, and Sadie took her coffee into the living room, where she was relieved to find Dad waiting. He sat in his favorite chair and had propped what there was of his hands on the arm rests. His fingers had also failed to appear this time, giving him an amputated look.

“I’m going to give you a list of things to deal with,” Dad said, getting right down to business. “You should probably write it all down.”

Sadie got up to retrieve a pen and paper from the counter near the phone. “Okay, where do you want to begin?” Sadie asked, sitting back on the sofa. “How about we talk about how to properly bait a hook?”

“What?” Dad looked confused.

“Well, anytime we all went fishing, I could never get the dew worms to stay on the hook. I’d always lose them when I went to cast, so I had to get you to do it for me.”

“You were probably twelve last time we went fishing. Somehow I don’t think my staying here without getting to heaven has anything to do with my giving you fishing tips.”

“Well, sure, but while you’re here . . .”

“I was thinking more about something to hand down to future generations. Advice for you to give to little Dylan, for starters.”

“You think the thing you still need to do before you move on is to pass on words of wisdom to your one-year-old grandson?”

“He won’t always be one. Before you know it, he’s going to be off to school and have girlfriends and—”

“All of that is a long way off.”

“He won’t know me,” her dad said softly.

Sadie felt tears in her eyes. “We’ll make sure he knows who you were,” Sadie said just as softly. Wanting to lighten the mood, she added, “And I’ll personally be around to remind him to change the oil in his car.”

“I know, but it’s not the same.”

Sadie nodded and they sat silently for a minute until he cleared his throat and then began, pointing at the pen and paper she’d put down.

“Let him know that school grades are important because good habits stick with you all your life. Hard workers at school become hardworking adults.”

“Got it,” Sadie said, scratching the note quickly on the pad.

“And when he starts playing baseball, he’s gotta be sure to get the right bat. Nothing too heavy. If he starts light, he’ll be more likely to hit the ball. Oh, and make sure he remembers to oil his glove.”

“Right.”

“Now, when it comes to women . . .”

“Dad, do you really think this is necessary?”

A firm look from him was the only answer she got.

“Fine,” Sadie said. “Continue.”

“First of all, I want you to tell him to never hit a girl. Even if she deserves it.”

A small smile curved her lips as she wrote it down.

Dad continued, “And next he needs to know that it’s okay to play the field for a while. I’m not talking sex—”

“Okay, at exactly what age do I have this little chat with him?” Sadie asked. “Preschool or kindergarten?”

“When he starts dating, of course.”

“Okay. Right.” Sadie wrote it down. “Play the field but no sex. Got it.”

“I didn’t say no sex. It just doesn’t have to be all about sex.”

“Okay.” Sadie resisted rolling her eyes and waved her pen for him to go on.

“What I meant by that was that he should date a lot of women before he chooses the right one to marry. Some of them are going to turn his head and turn him on, but that doesn’t mean they’ll fit in well with the family dynamics. Others are going to be great at the family thing but if there’s no spark, well, he’ll just get tired of her real quick. Take for example Molly Macgregor—”

“Who’s Molly Macgregor?”

“She was a gal I dated before your mother. She was a gorgeous woman. Sexy as hell.”

“Molly Macgregor was sexy. Got it,” Sadie said.

“Oh, no.”

“What? Molly wasn’t sexy?”

“Behind you,” Dad said ominously.

Sadie turned her head to see her mother standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Her gardening gloves were still on her hands. Her jaw had dropped and her eyes were wide in a look of utter shock.

“Mom!” Sadie exclaimed, getting to her feet.

“What are you doing?” her mom said, her look quickly changing from hurt to fury as she tore the gloves off her hands.

“Nothing. I’m just—”

“You’re just what?” she demanded. “I never thought I’d see the day when my daughter would mention the name Molly Macgregor in my own house.”

“I probably should’ve warned you that your mom’s still a little sore about Molly Macgregor,” Dad said.

Sadie scowled in his direction.

“I want to know what’s going on!” Mom repeated shrilly.

“Nothing,” Sadie said, her mind working quickly to try to figure out how long her mother had been listening. “What do you think is going on?”

“Well, you’re looking at your father’s chair and talking about his old girlfriend.” She flung the gloves to the side table, and a fine spray of dust lifted into the air. Sadie opened her mouth to speak and then snapped it shut. She had no idea how to explain things.

“Maybe you should just tell her the truth, or do you want her to find out the same way I did?” Dad asked.

“Be quiet,” Sadie hissed.

When she glanced back at her mother, Sadie realized Mom had followed the direction of Sadie’s gaze. A look of pained sympathy crossed her mother’s face.

“Oh, my God, you’re talking to him.” Mom shook her head slowly from side to side and crossed the room to her daughter. “Sadie, hon, your dad is gone.”

“I know that,” Sadie snapped.

“Well, you can’t go around talking as if he’s still around or people will think you’re—” The word crazy hung in the air unspoken. Mom placed a gentle hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “Maybe I should take you to see Dr. Aston.”

“I’m not insane.”

“Of course you’re not! But maybe it would help if you just talked to someone, or got some medication to help you get through—”

“I talk to the dead!” The words were out of Sadie’s mouth before she could stop them.

“Oh, this should be good,” Dad commented from his place in his chair.

“Sadie, one thing I’ve learned in life is that everyone handles grief differently,” Mom said, choosing her words very carefully.

“It’s not grief, Mom. I’ve been able to talk to the dead since Brian killed himself. When I work a trauma clean, oftentimes there are spirits around, and I help them go over to the other side if they’re stuck here in this dimension. I know it’s unusual, but it is what it is.”

Mom sat down in the La-Z-Boy directly across from her husband’s spirit. Sadie took a calming breath and sat down on the sofa between her mom and dad, prepared to do some gentle convincing.

“I didn’t realize things had gotten this bad,” Mom said, a look of concern etched into the grieving lines on her face. “I should’ve been paying more attention to you. Of course you must be going through hell, what with a job cleaning up bodies. And losing both your dad and your brother is hard on a woman. It was bound to take its toll.” She looked Sadie in the eye. “We’ll get you help, and before you know it—”

“I’m. Not. Crazy.” Sadie spoke slowly and deliberately. “I talk to the dead. I help them go over to the next dimension, and what you heard when you walked into this room was me talking to Dad.”

“Stop!” Mom’s hands flew to cover her ears and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that,” Dad said drily. “This is the same woman who refused to believe that cell phones would catch on and thought I was pulling her leg when I told her e-mail was instantaneous.”

“You’re not helping,” Sadie told him. She turned to her mother, who had finally opened her eyes and uncovered her ears. “Mom, I know this is hard for you to hear. Trust me, it was really tough for me to buy into this whole supernatural thing in the beginning and, yes, I even saw a psychiatrist for a while at the start. But I’m not insane. I just have an unusual ability and—”

“I’m calling Aunt Lynn. She’ll know what to do,” Mom said, jumping to her feet and running for the phone in the kitchen.

Sadie followed her. “You just think Aunt Lynn will know what to do because Uncle Glen spent all those years in the nuthouse.” Sadie spoke very slowly. “Listen carefully: I’m. Not. Crazy.”

Mom had the phone in her hand and began dialing. Sadie snatched the receiver from her fingers.

“Stop it!” Sadie shouted. “I know this isn’t easy but I need you to just sit down and open your mind a little. Even Dawn took a little while getting used to the idea but—”

“Wait a minute; you mean your sister knew about your problem and never—”

“It’s not a problem!” Sadie shouted.

“Oh, it’s a problem, all right,” Dad said. He had followed them into the kitchen and was leaning against the door frame.

“Right now, you’re the problem,” Sadie told her dad.

“I’m trying my best to help you, dear,” her mom said softly.

“Not you,” Sadie said with exasperation. “I’m talking to Dad.”

“Oh, God,” Mom whispered in a how-am-I-going-to-deal-with-my-crazy-daughter kind of way.

“Come,” Sadie said, taking her mom by the hand and leading her to the kitchen table and pressing her into a chair. “You.” She pointed at her dad, and then pointed at a seat opposite his wife.

“I’m going to prove this to you,” Sadie said to her mom, pulling out a chair and sitting between them. “Dad was just giving me a list of things he wanted me to tell Dylan, and one of the things he asked me to pass along is some advice on women.”

“Well, that proves it right there,” Mom snorted. “Your father doesn’t know a damn thing about women.”

Dad stuck his tongue out at his wife, and Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers and asked God for strength.

“What Dad said was that a woman has to fit with family dynamics but there also has to be a spark or the relationship won’t work. That’s when he mentioned Molly Macgregor and—”

“I don’t want to hear that woman’s name!” Mom shouted.

“She’s always been stubborn,” Dad said.

“Both of you be quiet!” Sadie shouted. “Anyway, Dad told me that Molly Macgregor may have been good-looking but he was looking for someone who had spark and was good with family, and that’s why he chose you over her. There was a spark with you and that’s why you two were the right fit.”

“Sadie,” Mom said softly. “In a way, it’s very sweet that you’re speaking to your dad, but I’m sure if you think back you’ll remember him telling you about Molly Macgregor when he was alive. Even though I asked him not to. The ass.”

“Who are you calling an ass?” Dad roared.

“She can’t hear you,” Sadie reminded him. “Only I can.” To Mom she said, “He doesn’t appreciate you calling him an ass.”

“Great way to talk about me now that I’m dead,” Dad said grumpily.

“Lord help me,” Mom said, looking to the ceiling. “Please, Sadie. Stop talking to your father like he’s sitting at the table with us.”

“But he is,” Sadie insisted. To her father she said, “Tell me something that will help convince Mom you’re here.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Something I wouldn’t know. Something you couldn’t have told me before you died,” Sadie demanded.

“Well, I don’t know. . . . I already told you the Molly Macgregor thing, and that sure didn’t turn out well,” Dad said. He pursed his lips and then scratched the side of his face that was invisible.

“I’m really getting worried about you,” Mom said. Getting to her feet, she added, “I still have some of the Ativan the doctor prescribed me. I’ll get you one to take the edge off and—”

“Sit down,” Sadie ordered.

Mom gingerly sat back in her chair and clasped her hands tightly together on top of the table.

“We didn’t really keep a whole lot of secrets from you girls,” Dad said. “We’re not exactly a skeletons-in-the-closet kind of family.”

Sadie watched as he again tapped his finger against the side of his face that was missing. She could feel a headache coming up from her shoulders and wished she was scrubbing a crime scene instead of acting as liaison between her confused mother and her dead father.

“I’ve got it!” Dad said suddenly. He looked across the table at her mom. “The lava rock!”

“Excuse me?” Sadie said.

“Your mom put a lava rock in the casket with me.”

“Why on earth would she do that?”

“On our honeymoon in Hawaii I picked up a small lava rock and gave it to her. We kept it always and used it every time we had an argument. When all was forgiven, one of us would use the rock as a peace offering. Sometimes your mom would slip it into my coat pocket and I’d find it when I was on my way to work. Many times I put it on her pillow after we argued during the day. When we separated, well, that was because she found out I’d had lunch with Molly Macgregor and hadn’t told her. It cost me a dozen roses, lots of chocolates, and promises of dinners out while I was begging forgiveness, but I didn’t come home until she put the rock in my car one day. Then I knew all was forgiven.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “The night before the funeral, when she was getting ready to go to the viewing at the church, she took the rock from our bedside table and took it with her. I bet she put it into the casket beside me before anyone else was there.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet,” Sadie said, blinking back tears.

“Tell her,” Dad replied.

“The rock,” Sadie said to her mother. “The lava rock from Hawaii. It was a kind of peace offering since your honeymoon.”

“He told you about that too? Was nothing sacred between us?” Mom asked, making loud tsking noises.

“Dad just told me about it now. He also said he thinks you put it in the casket with him during the viewing.”

Mom’s eyes grew huge. “You—you and Dawn were at the viewing. You could’ve seen me do it,” she stammered.

“And she said something when she took the rock from my bedside stand,” Dad advised, and quietly repeated what her mom had said.

Sadie turned to her mom and quietly repeated, “When you took the rock from the bedroom you said you hoped he’d keep your side of the bed warm in heaven.”

“I’m making tea,” Mom said, jumping up so quickly her chair scraped the floor loudly and would have toppled backward if Sadie hadn’t caught it.

Mom opened a cupboard and took down a canister. Her hands were visibly shaking.

“This is the real deal, Mom,” Sadie said quietly to her mother’s back. “Dad’s here right now and you can say anything to him, or ask him anything, before he goes over.”

“We’re out of chamomile,” Mom said frantically. “I’m going to Safeway.”

She snatched her keys off the counter and ran out of the house.

8

“I hate to say it but that pretty much was how I expected it would go,” Dad said.

Sadie rubbed her temples. When she looked up her father was gone, and she could hear her cell phone ringing in the next room. She ran to catch it before it went to voice mail.

She answered the call with a breathless, “Hello?”

“You sound like you’ve just been running a marathon.” Detective Petrovich’s gravelly voice tripped over the line.

“In a way,” Sadie admitted. “An emotional one anyway. So what’s up? You giving me a heads-up about a new scene I’ll be cleaning? I don’t mind telling you I could use the work.”

For both money and sanity, she thought wearily.

“Not a new scene,” he said, and his voice trailed off a little as if he was trying to come up with the words. “We need to talk. In person is probably best.”

“Name the place.”

“How about Romio’s? Can you be there in half an hour?”

“I’ll see you then.”

While Sadie drove to meet the detective, she used her cell phone to try to reach Zack but she had no luck. She was worried about him. As soon as she was done with lunch, she’d make a point of going to the house and checking on him.

Sadie and Detective Petrovich had worked together many times over the years. As a homicide detective, Petrovich had sometimes recommended her services to families traumatized by death and needing someone to clean up their loved ones’ remains. When Sadie walked into Romio’s, she saw the detective in a booth they’d shared for business talk before. One look at Petrovich’s somber face and Sadie’s gut told her this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat.

“What’s up?” Sadie asked, slipping into the booth.

“My acid reflux,” he replied drily. “Let’s order first.”

Petrovich was a man who was serious about many things, and food was one of them.

A young waiter sauntered over and attempted friendly banter while taking their order. Petrovich’s clipped tone while ordering his calzone and Diet Coke quickly changed the waiter’s tone from overtly friendly to businesslike.

“I’ll have the chicken gyro sandwich and coffee,” Sadie instructed.

Petrovich drummed his thick fingers on the tabletop. Sadie watched him but knew better than to try and get him to say anything until he was ready. Once the waiter delivered their drinks and promised the food would be arriving soon, Petrovich started in.

“Something’s rotten in Denmark,” he said. “And by Denmark I mean Green Lake.”

“Oka-a-ay. Are you talking about Sunnyside Avenue? Mrs. Wicks’ house?”

He nodded sharply and then drank down half his Diet Coke and belched softly behind his hand. “The detectives working the scene have had their hands full.”

“Well, sure. They’ve got a mountain of stuff to get through. It’s gotta be tough going through the lifetime collection of a world-class hoarder like Mrs. Wicks.”

“That’s only half of it.” He scrunched up his face and sighed as if he didn’t quite want to say what came next. “There’s weird stuff happening.”

“Weird stuff?” Sadie asked. Her throat was suddenly tight. She reached for her coffee and sipped slowly while she waited for him to continue.

“Things have been . . . happening.”

“Happening?”

“Sort of falling around them.”

“Falling?” Sadie parroted.

She didn’t want to keep repeating what he said, but she didn’t know how else to respond. She took another quick sip of coffee and carefully averted her eyes. She had a feeling she knew where this was going. A certain ghost must’ve started throwing his weight around against more than just Zack. She didn’t want to have this conversation. She definitely didn’t want to discuss her ghost-whispering capabilities with Detective Petrovich.

The detective’s hands made fists and he gently pounded the table. “Look, I don’t know how to say this so I’m just going to say it. People talk about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” Sadie smiled nervously.

“Cops have mentioned they’ve seen you talking at a scene. Rumors go around that you’ve got . . . that you’re, um . . .”

He was floundering but Sadie made no attempt to offer him a lifeline. She hoped he’d give up on the direction of this conversation. Up until this morning with Mom, she’d had a pretty happy life keeping her ability from a lot of people. She liked it that way. She preferred it that way.

“Psychic. People say you’re psychic.” He bit the words off sharply. “There. I said it.”

Sadie wrinkled her nose. “That’s kind of a weird thing for people to say.”

“They say you see ghosts and stuff.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Is it?” He nailed her with his best don’t-mess-with-me cop glare. The same stare that had made murderers confess.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean,” Sadie said, swallowing thickly.

“How about the truth?”

“The truth is that talk like that could ruin my career. How would it look if the public thought they were hiring some nut who talked to the dead instead of a trauma clean company? I’d not only lose my credibility; I could lose Scene- 2-Clean.”

The look Petrovich gave her told Sadie he was well aware she hadn’t denied his allegations. His gaze held steady and Sadie felt a nervous heat coil inside her belly.

She was first to break their silence, blowing out a long breath of air. “What exactly do you want from me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, throwing his hands in the air in an unexpected display of helplessness. He looked so utterly conflicted Sadie couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

They sat there both looking miserable and deep in their own thoughts until their food arrived and they ate in silence. As delicious as it was, Sadie could hardly eat her pita sandwich. Petrovich, on the other hand, devoured his calzone. When the dishes had been removed and their drinks refilled, Petrovich cleared his throat, placed his hands palm down on the table, and looked Sadie in the eye.

“So will you do it?”

Sadie blinked in surprise. “Do what?”

“I don’t know.” He threw up his hands a second time. “I guess talk to whoever, or whatever, it is and get it or them to stop making everyone’s life hell at the Sunnyside Avenue house.”

“Look, obviously you’re under the misguided impression that I’m some kind of a magician or something and—”

“Cut the crap.” Petrovich leaned back in the booth and eyed Sadie critically. “I’m not asking you to go public with this woo-woo bullshit.”

“Woo-woo?”

“Yes. Forget the damage to your own reputation. Do you have any idea what it would do to the status of the Seattle PD if word got out we hired a psychic to take care of a ghost problem at a house that also had a mummified baby?”

He rubbed the area between his eyebrows until it was red and angry. “Shit. Just thinking about it nearly gives me an ulcer. The media would have a field day and my ass would be grass. So I’d be thrilled to death if you could somehow take care of things while trying your best to be . . . um . . . discreet about the whole thing. Hell, I can’t even officially hire you. I’d pay you out of my own pocket and—”

“I’d never take money from you,” Sadie said firmly.

“So you’ll do it then?”

“Just tell me exactly what’s been going on at the house.” Sadie had a pretty good idea what Mr. Ugly had been up to, and she also had a feeling this conversation could change her career forever.

Detective Petrovich went on to describe the strange goings-on at Sunnyside Avenue. Objects had been seen moving around inside the house, including boxes levitating and flying through the air. There’d been a number of direct hits to personnel, and the most recent one had ended with a crime scene investigator getting clobbered in the head with a lamp. He’d suffered a dozen stitches to his scalp and a concussion. Nobody had come right out and said “ghost,” but Petrovich now had officers that were too freaked out to go inside.

“In our reports we’ve been calling it hazardous material. My guys have said I need to make the house safe before someone else goes inside,” he finished.

“And by ‘safe,’ you want me to work some kind of voodoo magic or exorcism?” Sadie asked, trying to be funny. “I should wave a wand, chant a spell, something like that?”

“I don’t care what you do or how you do it. Just make it stop.”

“And what if I can’t?” Sadie chewed her lower lip.

“We’ve got a crime scene that we can’t work because it’s unsafe for our guys to be in the building. It’s just a matter of time before the vultures get hold of the story and run it on the six o’clock news.” He waited a beat. “I’m not above begging but I’ll start by just saying, ‘Please.’ ”

Sadie sighed and sharply nodded her assent.

They worked out the details that involved Petrovich opening the locked-down scene to allow Sadie inside. Anyone watching would just assume she was there to clean. What they wouldn’t know was that she was there to clean up an ornery ghost.

9

Petrovich walked Sadie to her van after he paid the bill.

“So I’ll see meet you at Sunnyside Avenue in an hour?” he asked.

“Give or take,” Sadie replied. “I have to stop at home and get more gear.” And to check on Zack.

She opened the door to the van and Petrovich glanced inside. “Whoa! Who the hell’s been sharpening a blade inside your vehicle?”

“Vandals,” Sadie remarked. “I was parked at Bellevue Square mall most of the night ’cause I caught the decomp job there.”

“I heard about that one. The bum who died in a changing room, right?”

“That’s the one. At the end of the night, this is what I had to greet me as my reward for a hard night’s work.”

He leaned into her vehicle and caught the Queen of Clean graffiti decorating the dash.

“Nice,” he remarked sarcastically. “You report it?”

“The Queen of Clean?” she guffawed. “C’mon! If I called that in, I’d never live it down. It’s a stupid rhyme but not a crime. . . . Hey, what do you know? I’m a poet too,” Sadie said with a smirk.

Petrovich laughed along.

“I’ll put seat covers on the seats and use solvent for the writing,” Sadie told him. “Better that than paying higher insurance.”

Petrovich nodded in agreement, then turned to walk away. Sadie was about to close her driver’s door when the detective turned back.

“By the way, I don’t mean to be nosy, but, uh . . .” Petrovich began, his voice uncertain. “Everything okay with Zack?”

“You mean his foot? It should be fine. He has to wait until the swelling goes down before they can cast it.” Sadie buckled up and jabbed her key in the ignition.

“Guess he’s on some wicked painkillers then.”

From the seat in her van Sadie was slightly higher than the detective. She looked down at him now, a question on her face.

“I called the house looking for you,” he explained. “He sounded pretty out of it.”

“Yeah,” Sadie said. Offering no more explanation than that, she closed the door to her vehicle and started it up.

All the way back to her house, Sadie thought of how to talk to Zack. In her mind she took turns starting the conversation off gently.

I care about you and I’m worried . . .

Then just as quickly Sadie’s anger took over and she was thinking of starting the conversation with:

What the hell are you thinking?

She pulled into her driveway and fumed as she stared at the house. Her house, where she lived with her boyfriend. Yet Paula Wicks had waltzed in, kissed Zack’s foot, and drank vodka with him. It made Sadie want to punch something.

She walked in the house already furious. When she entered the living room, the first thing she noticed was the empty vodka bottle on the end table. Next to it was a bottle of Vicodin innocently calling to Zack to take another dose. Zack was on the sofa, snoring softly in front of the television. She wanted to be angry but worry caused her irritation to dissipate. Emotion swelled in her heart as she looked down at him. His foot was still up on the coffee table, and the rest of his body was slumped to the side, his head at an awkward angle with one arm tucked behind it. She touched his forehead, moved a lock of his hair with the tip of her finger, and bent to place a gentle kiss there.

“Aw, Zack . . .” she murmured, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

Just then Hairy hopped over and sat at her feet, twitching his nose up at her.

“Bet you haven’t been fed,” Sadie said, scooping up the bunny and touching his nose to her own.

She took him into the kitchen and filled his food dish with his pellets and then garnished the kibble with broccoli and baby carrots. Next she topped off his water dish and changed his litter box. After taking care of her pet, Sadie walked back into the living room. She snatched up the vodka bottle and brought it to the deck out back to deposit it into the overflowing recycle bin.

Hairy was busily chomping on a carrot in the kitchen.

“I’m staying at Mom’s again tonight,” Sadie told Hairy. “I’ve got stuff with my dad to deal with there. I’d take you with me, but Mom would probably have a fit and she’s already got enough reasons to be ticked off with me. Besides, you’ve got to keep an eye on Zack.”

Hairy’s only response was to continue munching his food. Sadie suspected the rabbit was giving her the cold shoulder because she hadn’t been around much. He may be a low-maintenance pet, but he somehow managed to provide high-quality guilt.

Sadie promised Hairy she’d be back soon. She wrote Zack a note that said: Please call. I’m worried about you. Love, S.

She was about to leave the note on the end table when she paused and scowled at the small bottle of prescription pills mocking her. Sadie snatched them up and stuffed the bottle into her purse, where the other bottle still remained. If Zack was going to allow this ankle break to give him an excuse to spiral into hell, she’d do everything in her power to stop it.

She propped the note up against the bottle of ibuprofen and covered Zack with a light blanket before heading out the door.

Back in her van, Sadie had time on the trip to Sunnyside Avenue to agonize over the Zack situation. Still no word from Paula but hopefully the foot-loving slut would just stay away and keep her pills to herself. Zack had been hurt, and being weakened by physical pain was tough on anybody. Especially a manly man like Zack. She told herself to cut him some slack and do her best to let the whole Paula thing go. She’d keep an eye on the drinking and pills, but she felt confident that as soon as the ankle felt better, all would be fine. With Zack. And with them as a couple. After all, what kind of girlfriend would she be if she bailed on him during their first rough patch? She made a mental note to be sweetness and light to him when she took him to the doctor.

“And when I tell him to pull himself up by his jockeys and stop feeling sorry for himself,” Sadie said aloud to herself, “I’ll make sure my tone is nothing but loving and supportive.”

Sadie was a block away from Mimi Wicks’ haunted home when her cell phone rang, and the ring tone told her it was her sister, Dawn. She hesitated a moment, then answered.

“What’s up?” Sadie asked.

“I’ll tell you what’s up,” Dawn said in a hushed voice. “I’ve got our mother in my kitchen babbling hysterically about you claiming to talk to the dead.”

“I thought she went to Safeway,” Sadie said. “I would’ve given you a heads-up if I thought she was going to go crying to you.”

“She says you’re pretending to talk to Dad.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“So you’re communicating with our father’s ghost and you weren’t even going to tell me?” Dawn said, her voice colored with hurt.

“I was going to tell you.” Maybe. Eventually. Sadie knew it was selfish but for once she’d hoped to keep her dad to herself.

“And what do you want me to tell Mom?”

“Tell her the truth. I talk to the dead and it’s just kind of a fluky thing that I picked up after Brian died. Try to downplay it like it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? She wants to have you committed!” Dawn cried.

Sadie pulled onto Sunnyside Avenue, which looked none too sunny in the Seattle rain, and parked her van at the curb.

“Look,” Sadie sighed. “I know this is a shock for her, but I can’t control how she feels about it. Besides, I’m on a job, so I can’t exactly stop what I’m doing to rush over and explain myself over and over when Mom seems absolutely determined to sail down the river of denial. Chances are good that when the dust settles, if Mom does choose to believe me she’s going to be worried about one thing and one thing only, and that’s whether or not this thing is going to embarrass her. Just explain that I’m discreet about this. I do it to help people move over to the next dimension but I’m not opening a Psychic Friends Hotline or doing the talk show circuit.”

“You should tell her all that yourself. Why do I have to be in the middle?”

“Because she ran away from me when I tried to talk to her, and she went to you.” Sadie blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. If you don’t want to deal with it, just bring her back home later and we can try to sort all this out among the three of us.”

“I’ll have to bring Dylan.”

“Okay, the four of us,” Sadie said. She noticed Detective Petrovich standing by the front door of the house. “I gotta go. I’ll call you.”

Sadie disconnected the call, grabbed a duffel bag from the backseat, and went to meet up with Petrovich.

“Are you ready to do this thing?” Petrovich asked her.

“Yup. I’m all set.” Sadie hefted her bag onto her shoulder. “I’ve got holy water, garlic, and, in case your ghost is hairier than most, I’ve brought the silver bullet I use for werewolves.”

Petrovich gave her a pained look.

“I’m kidding,” Sadie said.

“And I’m laughing. On the inside.”

He brought her around the house so she could enter from the back deck.

“Spooky stuff aside,” Petrovich began, “I don’t get people like Mimi Wicks.”

“You mean the whole hoarding thing?” Sadie asked, zipping up her blue hazmat suit.

“Yeah. I mean, somewhere along the line when they can only walk sideways through the house because the tunnels are getting tighter, you’d think they’d say, ‘Hey, this ain’t normal,’ and then do something about it.”

“It’s a sickness. A compulsion. People that do this”—Sadie waved toward the interior of the house—“I don’t think they can help themselves.”

“My ex-wife complained I was a pack rat. I’d love to drag her inside here and show her the real meaning of the word.”

Sadie chuckled at that and slipped disposable covers over her shoes while Petrovich unlocked the scene to allow her inside.

“You coming in?” Sadie asked.

“I’ll be out here. Standing guard.”

“Big strong cop is afraid of something he can’t see or hear?” Sadie smirked.

“You got it.” He nodded inside the house. “Scream if you need me.”

With that he closed the door with Sadie inside.

Even though the cops had been scared off the premises, they still had managed to make some headway. Boxes were somewhat sorted to make the pathways into actual halls. A lot had been hauled away on the lower level. Petrovich said they were using a storage facility to go through it all. Still, they were hundreds of man-hours away from getting the job done, and, in the end, probably all they’d find was that the boxes were filled with yard sale rubbish and flea market goods that might resell for a couple bucks a box.

Sadie angled around a particularly tall hill of cardboard boxes until she was in front of the stairway.

Suddenly she could see what had caused Petrovich such concern. Anything breakable in the room had been smashed to smithereens. Lamps, knickknacks, and light fixtures were shattered into shards against the wall. Her pulse quickened with fear.

“I’m guessing there’s nothing left for you to break,” Sadie commented.

“Wanna bet?” came the snarling reply, followed by an object winging its way through the air and crashing in the wall just an inch above Sadie’s head.

Sadie spun around to face the large, angry ghost who’d been causing all the trouble. His large, meaty hands were formed into fists that punched the air.

“Get away from here!” he thundered.

“Knock it off!” Sadie screamed right back.

He crossed his arms over his stained undershirt and chuckled heartily, his cherry lips a ghoulish slit. Sadie was once again struck by the sheer size of the man. She wouldn’t have wanted to anger him even when he was alive.

“Oh, right. You’re the one with the special talent.” He put special talent in air quotes and guffawed some more. “You think just because you can see me, that’ll stop me?”

“What exactly do you think you’re going to prove by throwing a temper tantrum like a two-year-old?” Sadie demanded.

“I ain’t got nuthin’ to prove. Nuthin’ except this is my shit and nobody has the right to take what’s mine.”

“This is Mimi’s house,” Sadie corrected. “And she told me I could come in here if I wanted.”

He rolled his eyes in disgust. “Mimi’s crazy. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He used his index finger to make the cuckoo sign next to his temple.

“You’re dead and busting up a house to protect stuff you can’t use, and you’re calling her crazy?” Sadie challenged.

“I’m warning you, get out of here!” he yelled. Reaching into a box near his hip, he tugged out the first item he could find and flung it at Sadie. Lucky for her, it happened to be a stuffed rag doll.

Sadie snagged the doll in midair.

“You keep talking about your stuff,” Sadie said. “This is what you mean? Dolls and yard sale crap? Why do you even care?” She waved the doll in the air and teased, “Is this yours? Do you sleep with it?” She knew it wasn’t wise to deliberately antagonize him, but she hoped if he got mad enough he’d give her answers.

He replied by snatching a coffee mug from the same box and flinging it in Sadie’s direction. It glanced off her shoulder and she winced.

“Ouch!” She held up her hands to protect herself from anything else that might fly her way. “Listen, Moe, the police are just doing their job. They have to search the house. Don’t you think you’re acting a wee bit ridiculous?”

“Moe?” He tossed back his head and laughed like the notion was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “I ain’t Moe.” He narrowed his eyes angrily. “You think you’re so smart but you don’t even know who the hell you’re dealing with.”

“Who are you then?”

“Ask the Mouse, if you don’t know.” He sneered.

“And who is Mouse?” Sadie demanded. When he wouldn’t reply, she rolled her eyes in frustration. “Fine. You say some of this is your stuff. Then you should know the answer to the million-dollar question. Whose baby was wrapped in newspapers and stuffed in a box?”

His cherry lips curled into a snarl. “Get out!”

“You get out!” Sadie shouted back. “Mimi and Paula both want the place cleaned out.”

“That’s what they say, huh?” He shook his head. “Trust me, Mimi don’t want you going through her shit either.”

“Look, this can’t be easy for you, and it doesn’t have to be this way. The reason I can see you is because I can help you. If you relax and stop fighting it, you can go over to the next dimension and leave this place behind and—”

“I’m not leaving!” he screamed, following up his shout by flinging more stuff at her.

Sadie dodged an incoming Christmas candle and a paperback novel.

“Oh yeah?” Sadie spit back. “What are you going to do when the cops move in here and remove every stick of furniture and crap out of the house? You think you’re going to scare them off by being a bully? All they’ll do is come back with helmets and armor! Then what will you do?”

His eyes grew huge and then he vanished.

“Good job,” Sadie muttered sarcastically to herself.

She wandered around the room a few more minutes, waiting to see whether Mr. Ugly would return, but no luck. Sadie was tempted to go upstairs and find out exactly what the pissed-off ghost was protecting, but in the end, she was just too chicken. When the Mr. Ugly failed to return, Sadie reluctantly stepped back outside, where Petrovich was anxiously waiting.

“There was a lot of yelling in there,” Petrovich commented warily.

“Yeah. Thanks for running to my assistance and all,” Sadie replied sarcastically. “You’re a real Rock of Gibraltar.”

“You were the one doing the shouting, and it sounded like you were pissed off. Not in danger.”

“Right.”

Sadie knew that Petrovich could hear only her voice and not the big ghost’s. Even though objects flying through the air would’ve scared the officers, Sadie couldn’t help but think that at least they didn’t have to see the ugly dude in green boxers doing the throwing.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t make any headway. I didn’t even get his name right. I thought he was Mimi’s brother, Moe, but apparently someone else died here. Don’t suppose you’ve got any information about that?”

Petrovich shook his head. “I’ve done some checking. As far as I can tell, nothing freaky supernatural here in this dimension ever happened at this location. At least nothing that involved cops coming to the house.” He stopped himself short and drilled his fingers through his hair uneasily. “Can I ask you something?”

Sadie shrugged.

“Is this for real . . . this thing you do?”

“Yeah. It’s real. Don’t ask me how or why, but it all started after Brian put his gun to his head and I got to clean it up.”

“So you got to talk to your brother’s ghost then?” he asked, eyeing her skeptically.

“No. For some reason I can’t see or talk to suicides. In my work I get to chat with a lot of murder victims and unattended deaths. I can help them somehow find their way over if they get lost and—” Sadie narrowed her eyes. “Stop that.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like I’m a lunatic. I’m the same person you’ve known for years. I run a trauma clean company and I’m good at what I do. You know I’m right. I’m a professional, and just because I have this one little thing . . . well, I won’t have you looking at me like I’ve suddenly grown three heads and sacrifice chickens.”

“It’s just a lot to absorb.”

“Tell me about it. It’s been years and I’m still trying to get used to the idea myself. Still, just because I’ve got this, um, talent doesn’t change the fact that Scene-2-Clean is first and foremost a trauma clean company, got it? I don’t want you calling me and asking me to interrogate the dead to solve crimes. Scene-2-Clean hasn’t changed its name to Ghost Busters.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about there. I pretty much plan on pretending this was all a strange, bizarre dream.”

“Good.”

They talked a little more as Sadie stripped off her hazmat suit. She heard Petrovich when he agreed that their business relationship wouldn’t change because of this one thing. She heard the words but couldn’t help feel that she’d lost his respect. If another trauma clean company set up shop tomorrow, her gut told her there was the possibility she’d lose all of Seattle Police Department’s referral business.

She snatched up her gear and began walking. Petrovich followed her around to the front of the house, where they met one of the neighbors headed up the walk. She looked to be a hard-life sixty with pruned lines around her mouth that proclaimed years of smoking. She clutched a faded blue sweater around her shoulders as she hurried up to them.

“Can I help you?” Petrovich asked, all businesslike.

“I hope so,” the woman began. “Are you working here?”

“I’m Detective Petrovich,” the detective said. “And this is Sadie Novak, who’s assisting with cleanup.”

“Detective Petrovich.” She appeared momentarily surprised and she looked at Petrovich closer before shaking her head. “Well, anyway, I was wondering how long you guys are going to be messing around in this house. I’ve been wanting to put my place on the market.” She nodded over to the tidy split level just feet away from the Wickses’ house. “It’ll be a hard sell with the Seattle Police Department traipsing in and out of the property next door.”

“Wish I could give you a definite date on that, ma’am, but this is a sensitive scene, and things will take just as long as they take,” Petrovich replied very diplomatically.

The woman sighed. “Paula told me she was finally cleaning up the dump and selling it, and I couldn’t help but be relieved. I guess I’ve waited this long, so a few more days or weeks won’t make much difference.”

“I’m sorry about that, Mrs. . . . ?”

“Bertrude. Bertrude Brant.”

“Is Carole your daughter? I met her when I came by a few days ago,” Sadie mentioned.

“Yes, she’s been staying with me while I get the place ready to sell.”

“Oh! Carole and Bertrude Brant . . .” Petrovich’s face looked like a lightbulb had just gone off in his head.

“Yes.” Bertrude Brant nodded, looking sheepish. “You might remember me from a number of years ago when my husband, Stephen, went missing.”

“Ri-i-ight.” Petrovich looked as if his mind was taking a trip down memory lane. “Last time you and I talked, I recall, you and Carole were moving out of Seattle and out to Spokane to be closer to your sister.”

“Yes, but when Carole moved back to Seattle for work, I didn’t want to be so far away so I bought this place, back in the old neighborhood,” Bertrude replied, making another nod at her house.

“Carole’s gotta be what? Twenty-four? Twenty-five?”

“She’ll be twenty-five next month.”

Sadie told Bertrude Brant it was nice to meet her and then left her and Petrovich to catch up. While she went and loaded her gear into the van, Sadie glanced up at the upper bedroom window of the Wickses’ house where Mr. Ugly’s ghost sneered down at her with his ghoulish grin. Sadie turned her back on him and sighed. She couldn’t help but wonder if she could’ve handled things better. If she’d tried coaxing him gently, maybe she could’ve gotten information. Obviously she’d slipped up with the whole Moe thing and failed to get the spirit’s real identity. It was hard to move someone on to the next dimension when you didn’t know who they were or what kept them here in the first place.

Petrovich parted company with Mrs. Brant and joined Sadie at her vehicle.

“That was one of the first cases I worked when I made detective,” Petrovich said, glancing sideways at Mrs. Brant, who was back on her own property and walking up her sidewalk. “One of those he-got-what-he-had-coming situations.”

“Yeah?” Sadie’s curiosity was now piqued. “Mr. Brant deserved to go missing?”

“He didn’t stay missing for long. We found him dead in his car over in Discovery Park. Stephen Brant killed himself by running a hose from his exhaust into the window of his car. Nobody was overly sad to see it end that way. You would’ve probably still been teaching at the time, so I’m sure you remember the Tanya and Ashley case.”

“The two thirteen-year-old girls who went missing? Sure. I remember hearing something about them.”

“Bodies were discovered in a wooded area just across the line in Oregon,” Petrovich continued. “The coroner figured they’d been sexually tortured for days before they were finally killed. We were looking hard at Stephen Brant for that.”

“Wow.” Sadie shook her head slowly from side to side. “You had evidence? You were going to nail him?”

“We were working our asses off to make it happen. We had rumors he’d messed with a couple other girls. Tanya had a locket that was found in Brant’s car but it wasn’t enough for a warrant of the house. Because Carole went to school with the girls and Bertrude had driven Tanya and Ashley home on a number of occasions, the judge wouldn’t issue a warrant. He figured there were too many ways the locket could’ve ended up in the car innocently. The locket could’ve been lost in the car on a carpool day.”

“So the sick bastard got away with it,” Sadie replied.

“I wouldn’t say he got away with it. I like to think he’s burning in hell,” Petrovich answered seriously. “Now back to our situation.” He leaned forward. “I guess we’re on our own here since there’s nothing you can do either.”

“Your guys are just going to have to pad up if they want to remove the stuff.”

“I was thinking the same thing. I’ll get the guys to suit up in helmets and body armor, and they’ll just have to deal with the stuff flying their way.”

“Yeah. Unless . . .” Sadie let her voice trail off.

“What? You got another idea?”

“Maybe I could call in backup.”

“Backup? You got the Psychic Friends Network on speed dial?”

“Not exactly,” Sadie said. “But you’ve met my friend Maeva Morrison.”

“Ah, geez, the one that runs that freaky new age store downtown?”

“Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café.” Sadie held up a hand. “I know. I know. You don’t want a parade of weirdoes running around your crime scene.”

“You got that right. It’s bad enough I had to ask you to do your—” He waved his hands in the air. “Your, um, mumbo jumbo thingamajig. No offense.”

“None taken. But I think I should talk to Maeva about this and see if she can help. She’s a pro.”

“A pro?” Petrovich had a pained expression on his face.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep it low-key. Nobody needs to know.”

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret this?”

10

Sadie found Maeva saying good-bye to her last customer for the night. Her staff were locking up, and Maeva looked at Sadie in surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?” Maeva asked.

“To the fact that I’m a little stressed and you’ve been known to listen to me when I need to unload,” Sadie replied.

“This unloading, is it going to make me miss the new chicken parmigiana recipe that Terry has simmering at home?”

“Since I’ve never cooked chicken parmigiana, I have no idea how to answer that.”

“Well, living with a high-end caterer means there’s always something to eat, so I guess I can get him to keep it warm until I get there,” Maeva replied. She said good-bye to the multipierced young lady who worked the front counter and then called her boyfriend and asked for her dinner to be kept warm. Next, Sadie and Maeva walked down the hall of Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café. Each door in the hall was painted a different bright color. Maeva chose the blue one. The door opened into one of Maeva’s reading rooms, where she offered psychic consultations for a hefty fee. Sadie had met Maeva at just such a reading, and they’d bonded over an immediate dislike for each other that had morphed into a strong friendship based on acknowledging each other’s inner weirdness.

Sadie lowered herself onto an overstuffed cushion on the floor next to a small square table.

“What’s up?” Maeva asked, plopping down on a pillow across from her friend.

“Let’s see,” Sadie said, taking a deep breath. “My mom caught me having a conversation with my dead father so I told her about how I talk to the dead, but I’m not sure if that was the right decision or not. Then I caught Paula kissing Zack’s sore foot and I’m worried that Zack might be heading down the wrong path ’cause he’s pumping painkillers and washing ’em down with vodka, not to mention the fact he won’t call me back. Also, Detective Petrovich just had me at the Wickses’ house trying to work things out with an angry ghost there ’cause he believes I’m some sort of witch doctor gone voodoo crazy. Of course I made no headway there because this ghost has no interest in doing anything but piss people off.” Sadie took a deep breath. “And so I was wondering if there’s anything you could do to help.” Sadie had been ticking the items off on her fingers, and now she tossed her hands in the air and added a simple, “Help.”

“Yes, yes, and no,” Maeva replied calmly.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, it was the right decision to tell your mom about your ability because you couldn’t keep it secret forever. Yes, you should be concerned if Zack is back popping pills. Get him professional help and bitch slap Paula. No, I won’t help you with the pissed-off ghost at the Wickses’ house, because whenever I get involved in something like this, we both end up way over our heads, and Terry has forbidden me from risking my life on any more of your harebrained escapades.”

Sadie absorbed all that and came back with a simplified answer of her own. “How?”

“How what?”

“How everything? How do I get my mom to accept the truth? How do I convince Zack to get help? How do I bitch slap Paula without being charged with assault, and how do I let a mummified baby case go unresolved because of some stubborn ghost?”

Just having one person whom she could talk to about every single one of her troubles gave Sadie an immense feeling of relief. Maeva offered her comfort but, even more important, she always had solid, practical advice. Sadie continued to talk, and mostly Maeva just listened and let her get it all out. After a while Maeva began gently making suggestions, and they talked through Sadie’s situation before Sadie casually glanced at her watch and then abruptly jumped to her feet.

“Oh, my God!” she shouted. “Damn! It’s after six and I was supposed to take Zack to the doctor at four o’clock. I totally forgot!”

Sadie apologized to Maeva as she left the shop in a frenzy and speedily dialed Zack from her cell phone. No answer at home. She tried his cell and got his voice mail. She left a frantic, babbling, and apologetic message as she drove straight to the house. She expected to find Zack still asleep on the sofa, but there was no one there, except Hairy.

“Don’t suppose you know which way he went?” she asked the rabbit.

Hairy gave his nose a twitch and hopped away.

She tried Zack’s cell twice more without leaving more messages. Then, with a deep feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, she considered dialing Paula’s number but resisted. Instead, Sadie paced the house and threw in a load of laundry. Finally, she tried Zack’s cell again and the call was answered. There was some fumbling before a voice came on the other end but, unfortunately, it wasn’t Zack’s.

“Hello?” came Paula’s breathless reply.

“Put Zack on the line,” Sadie snapped, dispensing with polite greetings.

“I would, but he’s in X-ray right now. You would know that if you’d remembered to bring him to his appointment.”

“I did remember,” Sadie said, a furious edge to her voice. “I was just running late on a job.”

“And you expected what? That Zack would wait in agony?” Paula emphasized the word agony.

“I didn’t expect—” Sadie began, but was interrupted.

“I suppose you also expected that the specialist Zack was scheduled to see would also just wait around for you?”

“Maybe if I wasn’t so busy cleaning up your mother’s mess then—”

“Just leave Sunnyside Avenue alone. All you two were supposed to do was throw out some trash. It wasn’t exactly rocket science. Now I’ve got another can of worms to deal with over there. You were a big help. Maybe if you’re not busy sticking your nose in someone else’s business, you’ll have time to take Zack to the doctor next time.”

“I was late but I would’ve gotten him there,” Sadie said slowly and evenly. “You don’t have to rush in and rescue him like—”

“I had to rush,” Paula said. “Someone had to pick him up. It’s not like he could’ve driven himself. I’m sorry if you feel I stepped on your toes, but I didn’t call Zack. He. Called. Me.”

Ouch.

Paula added, her tone changing from confrontational to sickeningly sweet, “I guess it makes sense since I am a nurse and I fully realize how an injury of this magnitude can affect a man like Zack.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake! He broke his foot. He didn’t suffer a spinal cord injury that will confine him to a wheelchair for life.”

“It’s easy for you to play it down like it’s no big deal. You’re not the one suffering, and obviously you don’t have the kind of empathy that goes along with helping people. After all, the surgery alone will be devastating for Zack and—”

“Surgery?” Sadie cut in. “What surgery?”

“I guess Zack didn’t want to worry you that an operation is a definite possibility but—” She stopped short. “I’ve got to go. He’s being wheeled out of X-ray now.”

“I’m on my way,” Sadie replied.

“Don’t bother. By the time you get here, we’ll be done.”

The line went dead in Sadie’s ear.

Sadie slammed her phone on the table and screamed a curse so loud that Hairy ran for cover.

Sadie didn’t know what to do. If she rushed to the doctor, Zack would most likely already be gone and, hopefully, on his way home. She settled in to wait for Zack to be dropped off by Paula. She felt tremendously guilty for missing Zack’s appointment and she’d be sure to apologize profusely, but she also planned to give Zack an earful about calling Paula instead of her and—She stopped herself short and went to dig her cell phone from her purse. She checked and had one missed call. It was from Zack and had come in a couple hours ago. Sadie dialed her voice mail, and there was a slurred yet distinct message from Zack asking if she was going to be driving him to the X-ray appointment. Oh, crap.

“I’m a bad girlfriend,” she cried, and hung her head with shame.

Guilt sat heavy and acrid in her belly while she waited for Zack. To pass the time Sadie sat in her office and powered up her computer to mindlessly play FreeCell. The card game had her clicking the mouse without even thinking.

Petrovich called and Sadie almost didn’t answer when she saw the incoming number, but then she relented just to have something else to think about. “Hello?”

“I’m afraid to ask. . . .”

“Sorry, Dean. I’ve got nothing. Maeva doesn’t want to get involved in this one.”

“That’s fine. I’ve decided to handle this differently anyway,” he announced. “I’m going back to Cedar House to talk to Mimi Wicks.”

“That’s probably a good place to start,” Sadie said, absently clicking on the cards on the screen in front of her.

“I want you to go with me,” Petrovich said.

“I don’t know what purpose that would serve,” Sadie said. She had no desire to go back to the senior center and look at the dead and near dead.

“You might be able to help,” Petrovich insisted. “I can ask her about other deaths in the house, but I don’t exactly want to be asking the old bat if she had a pissed-off ghost that she failed to mention, or if the house she owns has always been haunted.”

“Right, but I’m kind of busy right now,” Sadie said, clicking on more cards to win her game.

“Fine,” Petrovich said in a clipped tone that suggested it was far from fine. “I’ll let you know if I’m able to find out anything.”

After a couple more rounds of cards, Sadie glanced at her watch. There was no way it should’ve taken more than an hour for Paula to drive Zack home. Where could they be? Had Zack’s possible surgery become an immediate necessity?

Sadie dialed Zack’s cell but the call went direct to voice mail again, and she could do nothing but wait. Wait and pace like a caged animal. When the house phone rang, she snatched it up and barked out a hello.

“I think I’ve finally got Mom calmed down,” Dawn told Sadie over the phone.

Sadie looked at the phone like it was a live snake and then placed it back to her ear. “That’s good but I’m kind of busy. I’ll call you back.”

She disconnected the call, then paced some more and called Zack’s cell phone again and again. When she couldn’t think of another thing to distract herself from the waiting game, she called Dawn back.

“Sorry. What were you saying about Mom?”

“She’s calm, or at least not hysterical.”

“Good.” Sadie went to her fridge and grabbed a beer. “You think she’s ready to hear me talk about Dad’s ghost?” she asked, popping the tab and taking a sip.

“No. I said she was calm, not enthusiastic. I’ve stopped her from calling up the men with the white coats to come and lock you up. At this point, that’s the best I can do.”

“Oh. Thanks. I guess.”

“You okay? You sound . . . distracted.”

“I’m worried about Zack.”

“Mom told me about his foot. Is he okay?”

“I hope so. I’m waiting for him to get back from the doctor’s office now.” Sadie waited a beat. “But you didn’t call about Zack’s foot or even about Mom. Something else is up.”

“I’m wondering about Dad,” Dawn admitted.

“What about him?”

“Oh, Sadie, I’d love a chance to talk to him!” Dawn said, her voice suddenly filled with emotion. “How is he? Is he okay?”

“As okay as a dead guy can be,” Sadie replied flippantly, and then kindly added, “He’s just figuring out things. He doesn’t have a handle on the whole appearing and disappearing thing, and he’s ready for closure. He wants to move on.”

“Don’t let him move on until I get a chance to talk to him,” Dawn pleaded. “Promise?”

“I don’t have total control over that, you know,” Sadie snapped. “It’s not like I’m God or something.”

“Then we should hurry and set up a time for me to talk to him before he’s gone. When can we do it?”

“I don’t know. . . .” Sadie said truthfully. Sadie chewed her lower lip. She wondered now if keeping her dad around had been a mistake. Maeva was right. Her job was to help him go over, not to keep him around for her own amusement. Now she was going to be in the role of mediator between Dawn and her dad. She decided to try to put Dawn in touch with Dad, and if it didn’t work . . . oh, well. Sadie also vowed to have deeper, more meaningful conversations with her father so that she’d be ready when the time came to let him go.

Sadie redialed Dawn and suggested they meet at their parents’ home.

“But what about Mom?” Sadie asked.

“I won’t bring her along. She’s not ready for this. I’ll just tell her I have to step out for a while and get her to watch Dylan. Maybe watching her grandson for a couple hours will help get her mind off things.”

Sadie doubted a couple hours of anything would make her mother forget that she just buried her husband and that her daughter was barking mad.

The phone beeped, signaling that she had another call coming in, and the display said it was Zack.

“I’ve gotta go,” she told Dawn, and disconnected one call to take the other.

“I am so-o-o sorry I wasn’t here to take you to your appointment,” Sadie blurted without any other greeting. “Where are you? How’s your ankle?”

“The foot’s not so good,” Zack said, and it came out “not show go-o-od.” But he didn’t answer her first question.

“What did the doc say? Are you going to need surgery?”

“Maybe do-o-own the road.”

Sadie cringed at his slurred words. “Did you ask the doctor about the painkillers?”

“They put a cast on it but my foot still hurts like hell, so, yeah, I’m taking the fucking painkillers.”

The anger in his voice touched a nerve. “You mean Paula kissing it all better didn’t help?” she asked with a saccharine tone.

“Christ, Sadie, that was nuthin’. You don’t have to go around spying on me now.” His voice had grown loud and snarly.

“Spying?” Sadie’s jaw dropped in surprise. “I wasn’t spying, Zack. I walked into my own house only to find you on my couch getting your foot kissed by your ex-girlfriend!” She was near tears and her voice wavered around the edges.

“Your house. Your couch. Shit. Guess I never should’ve given up my apartment. At least then my recuperating wouldn’t cramp your shhtyle.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Where are you? How about if I come pick you up?”

“Don’t bother. And don’t wait up for me.”

Sadie couldn’t think of any way to respond but she didn’t have to. Zack had hung up on her. She was simultaneously so wounded she could’ve cried buckets and so furious she could’ve spat nails. She knew Zack was stoned out of his mind. She could hear it in his voice and could tell by the way he acted. The real Zack wouldn’t talk to her that way. But where was the real Zack and how could she get him back?

11

Sadie was suddenly grateful she was meeting Dawn. She really needed to keep busy and get her mind off Zack. Sadie hopped in her Honda and drove. When she pulled up to her mom’s house, Dawn’s car was already in the driveway. Sadie was weary with emotion when she dragged her feet inside.

Dylan was coasting with tentative steps between the coffee table and the sofa, and when Sadie walked in, he smiled at his aunt and promptly plopped down on his well-padded behind.

“How’s my man?” Sadie asked. She walked over and sat down on the floor next to her one-year-old nephew.

“I’ll be right there,” Dawn shouted from the kitchen. “I’m just making some coffee.”

“Take your time,” Sadie called back over her shoulder. “I thought Mom was going to watch Dylan.”

“She decided to go visit Aunt Lynn so I didn’t want to stop her.”

Sadie tugged Dylan onto her lap and kissed the wispy chestnut curls on the top of his head and breathed in his babiness. “Promise me you’ll always be cute and sweet and never be a pigheaded jerk of a man,” Sadie said, snuggling her face into his neck.

“Go. Go,” Dylan said, wriggling out of Sadie’s arms to attempt to walk again.

“Go, go is right,” Dawn said as she walked into the room with two cups of coffee in her hands. “Ever since he took those first couple steps last month, he’s never content to sit down for long.”

Dawn handed a hot mug of coffee to Sadie.

“Thanks,” Sadie replied, sipping tentatively.

“What’s wrong?” Dawn asked. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Zack’s being a dick.”

“That’s what men do.” Dawn waved it away with a flick of her wrist and sipped her coffee with her other hand. “Just this morning John was supposed to get up with Dylan. It’s his morning, but what does he do? He woke me to ask me where to find the applesauce. Can you believe that? I mean, what’s the purpose of giving me three mornings a week that I can sleep late if he’s friggin’ waking me about applesauce!”

“No offense, Sis, but this is bigger than applesauce,” Sadie said, getting up from the carpet and sitting down on the nearby sofa. “I’m losing him, Dawn.”

“What are you talking about? Zack? Of course you’re not losing him! You’re just emotional because of Dad and you haven’t had regular work for a while, right? And he broke his ankle too. That kind of stress adds up. Things will be fine. Zack loves you and you love him.” The last was said with an assurance that Sadie wished she felt.

Dawn walked over to sit next to Sadie. She dropped her arm around her sister’s shoulders and gave Sadie a one-armed hug.

“He asked me to marry him last month,” Sadie said with a sigh. “And I didn’t give him an answer. Then he went off to do a cleanup job for his ex. You remember Paula, right? You met her before.”

“So what? Paula’s no big deal. They hardly dated even when they dated. Just because he’s doing a job for her doesn’t mean he’s—”

“It’s the ankle thing,” Sadie said.

“So?”

“Paula’s a nurse. She’s stepped into nursing him. She took him to his doctor appointment today, and earlier I caught her kissing his boo-boo better.”

“By boo-boo, do you mean his—”

“His foot!” Sadie shouted. “Geez, what’s with this family?” She picked up her coffee cup from the end table to keep it out of Dylan’s curious grasp and handed him her car keys instead. “Now Zack’s taking pain meds and drinking with them. God, when I talked to him he just sounded all messed up!”

“I don’t know much about this kind of thing, but I’m sure he shouldn’t be on pain medication—at least nothing strong. Not if he was once addicted to Vicodin. Didn’t he lose his job as a cop because of that? What is his doctor thinking, giving him those kinds of pills?”

“I don’t think the doctor knows the history.” Sadie frowned. “And I’m pretty sure the pills are coming from Paula. She’d certainly have access to pills.”

“How unethical is that?” Dawn shook her head angrily. “Is there someone you can call? Someone who could bring the hammer down and—”

“How would I prove it? It’s not like Zack’s going to back me up. Not if he’s really thinking he needs the medication.”

“Everything will work out. You’ll see,” Dawn said. “A broken ankle is a temporary thing. After we’re done here, you track down that man and bring him home. Once you get him there, flush the damn pills and replace them with Advil. Then you just mother hen him until he’s past the worst of it, and all will be hunky-dory.” She hugged Sadie again. “You’ll see.”

Sadie blinked back tears and nodded but her heart didn’t believe it.

The two sisters sat around watching Dylan systematically try to reach for anything within his grasp. Periodically Sadie made a halfhearted attempt to contact their dad but he remained elusive.

Eventually a disappointed Dawn had to leave for domestic duties that involved laundry and putting Dylan to bed.

“Before you go . . .” Sadie stopped Dawn at the door. “Did you ever hear Dad talk about someone named Molly Macgregor?”

“You mean the woman Dad was in love with before Mom? Sure.”

Sadie’s jaw dropped. “You knew about her? Why didn’t you ever mention anything to me?”

Dawn dragged her heavy diaper bag over to the door and picked up Dylan’s little shoes. “One New Year’s Eve when Mom had too many martinis, I heard her arguing with Dad in the kitchen. It seemed like a stupid thing to argue about, considering Dad didn’t marry Molly Macgregor; he married Mom.” She pushed and wiggled Dylan’s chubby feet into his tiny Nikes and then hoisted him onto her hip. “Why are you bringing it up now?”

“Oh, just something I heard . . .” Sadie said vaguely. She leaned in to hug her sister and nephew in one tight embrace. “Anything you want me to ask Dad if he shows?”

“Sure.” Dawn nodded. “Make sure you tell him how much I love and miss him. Also, you could ask him if he’s got any parenting advice and maybe ask him what it feels like to be, you know, gone.”

Shortly after Dawn backed her car out of the driveway, their mom returned to the house. She looked both surprised and disappointed to find Sadie there.

Sadie attempted casual conversation, but Mom’s side of the dialogue consisted of stilted one-syllable words. Eventually her mom claimed to have a headache and disappeared down the hall on the pretext of going to bed.

“You gotta give her time to get used to this thing,” Dad spoke up.

Sadie turned to find her dad sitting in his favorite chair. His voice was more disembodied than usual, and only the bottom half of his body, from the waist down, was visible.

“Sure, now you show up. Dawn was here earlier, wanting to talk with you.”

“I know, but I couldn’t seem to manage an appearance.” He sighed, and after a moment he added, “You know, you should’ve told your mother about this stuff years ago.”

“Maybe,” Sadie admitted. Although she wasn’t entirely sure having her mom thinking she was a loon years ago instead of now would’ve helped any.

Wearily she plunked herself down on the sofa.

“I guess better late than never,” Dad insisted. “I don’t know that the timing was so great, given the amount of crap your mom’s dealing with, what with me just dead and all, but, hey, you can’t control that. What’s done is done. Remember the time you wanted a hamster? The very idea of having a rodent of any kind living in her house gave Peggy the heebie-jeebies, but after a couple months she came around.”

“It’s been a long time since I thought about Hammy the Hamster,” Sadie said with a small, tight smile.

“And when you and Zack wanted to shack up together, she wasn’t too keen on that either. She couldn’t understand why you needed to rush into living together. She thought a nice long engagement was a great alternative. But after a few times seeing his face around at Sunday dinners, she not only got used to the idea, she really liked Zack. Even tried to get me to like him.”

Talking about Zack had Sadie blinking back tears.

“What’s wrong?” Dad demanded.

“Things aren’t so great with me and Zack.” Sadie brushed away a tear. “Maybe Mom was right. We rushed in.”

“I heard what you were saying to Dawn about him being back on the pills,” Dad said. “I wasn’t eavesdropping; I just couldn’t seem to make it all the way here. It’s tough. As you can tell, I’m still not getting it right.”

Sadie glanced at her father’s foot that pumped up and down, but it was hard to talk to a vision without a torso and face.

“So what do I do? What’s your advice about Zack? Toss him to the curb, right? Who wants a drug addict in the family?”

“I don’t know all the answers, hon, but I do know that anything worth having is worth fighting for. As I recall you were Zack’s friend before you were his lover. If any of your other friends fell back into drugs after they’d beat it once, you’d fight to help them. I don’t get why you’re so quick to roll over and let him handle this himself. If he’s not worth the fight, then I guess you should just let him go.”

Sadie covered her face with her hands and sobbed softly. When she looked up her dad was gone. She knew he was right. With determination she left her mom a short note saying she’d call later but she was moving back home. She packed up her overnight bag and grabbed her keys.

All the way home she rehearsed what she’d say to Zack. She’d tell him that she loved him and planned on sticking by him 24/7 until he got over this thing. Then she’d call Zack’s doctor and his old rehab counselor and get some practical advice. After all, he’d taken the pills for only a couple days. It probably was too soon to say he’d fallen off the wagon. He was just having a bad week, and they were just having a hard time as a couple too. Everyone had ups and downs, right?

With bright new enthusiasm she parked her Honda in the garage of her house and walked inside. She called hello but got no response. Sadie’s heart quickened. She’d hoped to find that Zack had finally made it home.

Sadie strolled into the living room, still calling his name. Instead of Zack, she found a note from him in his firm, heavy script. He’d written on her Scene-2-Clean letterhead: “I’ve got to figure things out. Sorry. I’ll call you in a few days.”

With a sick feeling in her stomach, Sadie ran to their bedroom and yanked open the closet door. Zack’s black Samsonite suitcase was gone and so were all of his clothes except for his go-to-funerals suit. She screamed in fury and yanked open his drawers in the dresser they shared. Empty, except for one mismatched pair of socks.

She sat down on the edge of her bed and swore furiously until her swearing became wracking sobs.

Sadie didn’t know how long she cried, but she had fallen asleep with tears on her face, and the shrill sound of her office phone brought her awake the next morning.

In a bit of a daze she stumbled across the hall to answer it.

“Scene-2-Clean,” Sadie answered. Her voice sounded rough and unused.

“My name is Cheryl Tu,” a woman’s voice announced. “I am looking for a trauma cleaner and you were recommended by the Seattle PD.”

“Could you hold just one moment, Ms. Tu?” Sadie put the call on hold, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly. Then she cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders. Life went on. Work went on. She’d be damned if she’d curl up in the fetal position just because Zack Bowman was having a huge temper tantrum.

She pressed the phone back to her ear and put on her best business voice as she resumed the call. “Thank you for holding. I’m Sadie Novak. How is it that my company can be of service?”

“I run the Ocean View School in Capitol Hill,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”

A hoity-toity elementary school where the janitor was knifed to death alongside the building blocks last week. Yes. She’d heard of the place. Sadie answered the question with one of her own.

“Has Seattle PD released the premises to be cleaned?”

“Yes, and time is of the essence. School starts next week and I’d really prefer if no sign of our, um, unfortunate incident remained.”

“Of course. Give me the name of the detective working your case, and I’ll confirm the property can be released into my care. I assume you have insurance that will cover my services. I’ll need your policy number and then I’ll require that you sign a contract.”

Cheryl Tu provided Sadie with all the particulars. “How soon can you start?” Ms. Tu asked.

“You’re in luck,” Sadie replied. “My previous commitment today canceled.” And apparently he also moved out. “I can start as soon as you can meet me at the property.”

Sadie showered quickly, dressed, and left the house via the garage, where she came to an abrupt stop and frowned.

“What the hell . . . ?”

Her garage was spacious, and that was one of the main reasons she loved this house. It had room for her large company van and her Honda and still enough space for wide floor-to-ceiling shelving on either side of the vehicles. These shelves held bins containing everything a trauma cleaner would need. The majority of her supplies were housed in a warehouse at a separate location, but this second storage area with a smaller amount of everything she needed allowed her to pack up and go from home without stopping first at the warehouse. What stopped her cold was the fact that a number of the bins had their lids off or were sitting slightly askew. Like someone had checked each one hurriedly and couldn’t be bothered to replace the tight-fitting lids. Sadie might leave her jeans in a heap on the floor of her bedroom. She may even leave dishes in the sink overnight and not give it a second thought. But she never, ever left lids off her supplies.

Her eyes skipped to the corner where her A-frame ladder should’ve been and wasn’t. Instead, it was between the garage door and the end of the shelving. There was no way the garage door could’ve rolled up and allowed her to park inside yesterday with the ladder in that position. At the very least it would’ve made a loud scraping noise and probably would’ve toppled over. Somebody had been in her garage, rummaging through her supplies while she slept.

Sadie went through her boxes quickly, and though items appeared disheveled, nothing appeared to be missing. There were two doors, one leading into the garage from the house and one from the backyard. Both were dead bolted. Whoever had been in the garage had a key. There were only two people who had a key for her place, Zack and Dawn. She couldn’t imagine her sister wanting anything in any of those bins. Zack, on the other hand, knew exactly what was in the containers, and she couldn’t imagine he’d have a use for a single item. Not to mention the fact that she couldn’t imagine him climbing up a ladder, dragging his bad foot behind him. It made no sense. Unless he was so far gone on his meds that he felt no pain. She gnawed her lower lip with worry. She wanted to call Zack and ask him about the garage, but she was worried that call might turn into her pleading with him to come home.

With determination she climbed behind the wheel of her van and headed toward Ocean View School. A nice crime scene was just what she needed to take her mind off her deteriorating love life.

Ms. Tu was a petite middle-aged Chinese woman with sharp eyes and a crisp business suit. She shook Sadie’s hand vigorously and led her in through the front door of the school and into a meticulously kept office immediately to the right.

“I’ve taken the liberty of getting you a set of keys for the school.” She turned over a key ring containing two brass keys. “One is for the front door. One is for my office in case you need to use any office supplies while you work.”

“That’s very kind and efficient of you,” Sadie remarked.

“I’m very anxious to put this unfortunate incident behind us. I assume you brought the contract?”

Sadie laid her paperwork out on the table and waited patiently while Cheryl Tu looked it over. The office had a wall of fame that showed impressive photos of children between the ages of five and twelve shaking hands with dignitaries and world leaders: a young boy about eight shaking hands with President Obama, a young girl standing next to Seattle mayor Greg Nickels and cutting the ribbon of a new library, an entire troupe of children in the Ocean View School uniform standing on a stage next to Nelson Mandela.

“We’re very proud of our students,” Cheryl Tu stated when she caught Sadie admiring the photos. “At Ocean View we strive for world leadership and global citizenship amongst our young people.”

“You must do a great job. I used to teach second grade, and it was tough to get seven-year-olds excited about anything regarding world events.”

“The excitement has to begin with the teacher,” Cheryl Tu stated. “We expect our students to follow their lead, and they do.”

In other words, Sadie, you must’ve been a lousy teacher if your students didn’t aspire to cure world hunger. She bit back a retort and got to her feet.

“The detective told me only the rear of the building was sealed as a crime scene,” Sadie said.

“Yes.” Ms. Tu shook her head. “I still can’t believe it happened. Virgil Lalty worked here since the school started. His grandson goes to the school. What happened is a real shame.”

Sadie could only nod in agreement.

“The incident occurred in the janitorial facilities and the early years art center, as well as the hall area between the two rooms,” Principal Tu said. She was all business now, fully recovered from her moment of grief for Virgil Lalty. “All the, uh, damage was contained to that area at the farthest end of the hall.”

She signed both copies of the contract and placed one on top of her in-box and handed Sadie the other.

“Will you be working alone?” she asked.

Sadie wanted to tell her that she’d be joined by her associate, Zack Bowman, but then she realized that Zack hadn’t indicated he still considered himself an employee. This was the sad truth about mingling relationships with work.

“I’ll be on my own, yes,” Sadie replied, and the words stung.

“I’ll leave you to your work then. How soon can I expect you to be completed?”

“It’s hard for me to give an estimate when I’ve yet to see the scene,” Sadie advised. “I’ll do my initial walk-through immediately and estimate the equipment required. Tomorrow I’ll return and start the physical labor. By the end of tomorrow I should have a pretty good idea of a timeline.”

Principal Tu got to her feet. “Then I’ll look forward to your report tomorrow.”

She shook Sadie’s hand again before leaving her alone in the school.

Once the principal was gone, Sadie carefully locked the front door behind the woman and then opened her bag of tricks. She slipped into a disposable hazmat suit and snagged her camera. She’d do her initial walk-through carefully, taking pictures both for her own records and for insurance purposes. Sadie slowly walked down the long hall past classrooms that were waiting to be filled with students. The school was small, consisting of one long hallway banked with classrooms on either side and a separate wing containing the library and gymnasium. Although the air was stale with disuse, there was no disguising the underlying scent of crayons, felt markers, and chalk dust. If she’d walked into the building blindfolded, Sadie still would’ve known she was in a school. A pang of regret clutched her heart as she wondered briefly if she’d made the right decision trading second graders for the dead.

Sadie let herself into the janitor storage room first. She was surprised to find the room as meticulously kept as Cheryl Tu’s office. In this room, instead of awards and books, the shelves held organic cleaning supplies and scrub brushes. There was a locker area in the corner of the room. Bits of cellophane tape were angled all over the wall, but whatever had been taped up here had since been removed.

Gratefully, Sadie allowed her mind to shut down the part of her that was distraught over Zack and grieving for her dad. She didn’t want to think of loss; she only wanted to focus on the job.

On the floor of the room was a sticky puddle of blood large enough to insist the victim had been badly wounded on this spot but hadn’t bled out here. Sadie photographed the puddle and the spray and spatter that ran up the wall behind it, and then she followed the blood trail. Drops of blood on the floor led out of this cleaning supply room, down the hall a few feet, and then into the next room. She flicked a light switch, and bright primary colors jumped out at her from floor and walls. The room was large, sunny, and a creative child’s paradise with a dozen painting easels lined up awaiting use. Blue walls were covered in framed poster prints by Picasso, Monet, and Rembrandt. High expectations for the kindergarten set.

The blood trail was difficult to follow on the classroom’s red carpet, but Sadie located the main cleaning location, and the area of the victim’s final demise, in the far right corner of the room. He’d been attacked in the janitor’s room but had attempted to get away. He ran and had been cornered here between the shelves of tempera paint and a row of hooks holding paint smocks. A bloody handprint was clear as could be on the wall, and then blood smeared down the wall to the floor. Maggots wriggled and danced in the bodily fluids and dried blood that formed a sticky soup on the ground near Sadie’s feet.

A thin, balding, fifty-something black man was leaning on the paint shelves. Sadie knew he was the janitor who’d been stabbed to death, and not just because he wore charcoal gray coveralls. He had multiple defensive stab wounds on his forearms, his left ear was missing, and he had a lethal jagged slice in the folds of his neck. He’d fought a good fight.

“Can you help me?” he asked. He waved his hands in front of Sadie’s face.

The very first few times Sadie saw the spirits of the dead, she’d screamed and run. It had taken months to realize she wasn’t insane but had developed a strange sort of gift. When she discovered she could actually help the spirits move over to the other side, it had given her a jubilant feeling of satisfaction. However, this time she did something she’d never done before. She ignored the spirit in front of her. Turning on her heel, Sadie walked out of the room without looking back.

12

Once out of the crime scene, Sadie doffed her gear in the area she’d designated her safe zone: Principal Tu’s office. She locked up the school and headed for home. She planned to print the pictures and fax the forms to the insurance company. After she dealt with business, she’d allow the emotional side of herself a voice too. She figured she’d pull the covers over her head and cry into her pillow.

When her cell phone rang on the drive back home, Sadie’s heart skipped a beat. When she saw it was only Maeva and not Zack, Sadie let the call go to voice mail. There was a time to cry on your friend’s shoulder and to mourn your breakup, but Sadie needed to bury herself in her work first. She couldn’t deal with Maeva’s positive thinking and emotional pats on the shoulder right now. Tomorrow she planned to seek solace in mopping up blood. Maybe, if she was lucky, she’d feel good enough to help an old janitor find heaven.

She did her paperwork and, as planned, sank into bed. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this drained. When her bedside phone startled her awake the next morning, she seriously considered throwing it across the room.

“Hello?” she mumbled into the receiver.

“Were you at the Sunnyside Avenue house last night cleaning up ghosts and other stuff?” Petrovich asked, his voice gruff.

Sadie squinted at her clock. “Dean, it’s six fifteen in the bloody morning.”

“Crime doesn’t take a vacation.”

Sadie rolled her sleepy eyes and sat up. “What’s up? Why are you asking about the Wickses’ house?”

“Somebody cleaned out an upstairs bedroom last night.”

Sadie frowned. How was that possible? “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean, one of the bedrooms upstairs, one of those rooms that was floor-to-ceiling crud, is completely empty this morning.”

Sadie shook her head. She was wide awake now. How the hell had someone gotten past Mr. Ugly?

“Maybe your officers got a start on that room. Weren’t you shipping everything into a storage facility before you went through each box?”

“Of course I asked my team first. You’re not the first person I dragged out of bed this morning. Nobody was willing to go inside that house until it was, um, safe. The entire time we were shoveling out that hole of a house, nobody ever even made it upstairs.”

Sadie thought of herself telling Zack to stay away from the upstairs rooms. “If it wasn’t your guys, who could it have been?” Sadie wondered aloud.

“You, or someone else with a key.”

“It wasn’t me,” Sadie said. “What about Paula?” The woman’s name tasted sour in Sadie’s mouth.

“Her apartment is a block from my own place, so when I got no answer at her place, I headed over there and pounded on the door. She said she hadn’t been near the house, and the only ones who had keys to the house besides the cops were her mom, herself, you, and Zack. I asked Zack and—”

“You asked Zack? Did you call him?”

“No . . . um . . . I asked him in person, and . . . um . . . anyway . . . Zack confirmed that to be true.”

“He was at her apartment, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

So Zack had moved in with Paula. Sadie became aware that her fingers were white knuckled on the phone but she didn’t say a word.

Petrovich lowered his voice. She didn’t hear what he was saying but realized his tone was laced with pity. He was mumbling something about Zack being a fool and he’d realize his mistake. Sadie wanted to respond but she felt like she’d been sucker punched. Zack was with Paula. They were together. As a couple.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Shit happens,” Sadie replied gruffly, trying to sound like it was no big deal, but her voice cracked with emotion.

“Right,” Petrovich said, quickly switching back to cop mode. “So next stop is Mimi Wicks. I don’t see how the old woman would’ve broken out of the care center and moved a room full of crud but maybe she authorized someone else to do it. Feel like meeting me at Cedar House in an hour? I’ll bring the coffee.”

“Sure. Why not?” Sadie replied. She needed to keep busy.

Sadie stopped at the corner store before Cedar House and stocked up on a couple chocolate bars and some Jujubes. Bribery tools for Mimi.

When she pulled into the parking lot, Petrovich was waiting in his car. She parked next to him and they climbed out of their vehicles together.

“So what are we going to ask her?” Sadie asked.

“We’re not asking anything,” Petrovich said, and his eyebrows rose with his voice. “I’m doing the talking. At least about the house and who might have cleaned out that room.”

“Then why am I here?” Sadie asked as they started walking toward the building.

“You’re going to ask her if her place was haunted before she left there or if this is a new development.”

Sadie glanced sideways at him. It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “I’m sure you could just as easily ask that question.”

“Yeah, but she might be reluctant to talk to a cop about that sort of thing rather than . . .” He waved his hands at Sadie.

“A whack job like me?” Sadie finished.

“Whack job are your words. I would’ve said maybe, um, character.” He punched her good-naturedly in the shoulder and Sadie laughed in spite of the dense ball of tension in her gut.

They walked into the foyer of Cedar House, and Sadie was surprised to find the place bustling with activity even at this early hour. Orderlies wheeled clientele quickly down the hall, and dozens of residents walked this way and that, none of them heading for the visitors’ lounge. Noreen, the same large black woman as before, worked the counter, and she looked over at them expectantly.

“Visiting hours are still a couple hours away.”

Petrovich showed his badge.

“I remember who you are.” She curled up a surly corner of her lip. “You trying to impress me with your credentials isn’t going to cut any weight around here. Our residents like their schedules. You should see what it’s like if the dining room is a few minutes late with a meal. Heads roll.”

“I need to speak to Mimi Wicks,” Petrovich said.

The woman frowned and looked pointedly at Sadie. “If you’re a cop too, you should’ve told me that the other day when you came to visit.”

“I’m not a cop. I’m a friend of Paula’s.”

Friend might be pushing it, considering Sadie knew that if she saw Paula in the street, she’d probably run her over. Repeatedly.

The receptionist turned to glare at Petrovich. “When I had a break-in at my house last year, it took Seattle PD three days to even show up. You’ve been here twice in two days.”

Petrovich didn’t respond. The receptionist sighed and waved an orderly over.

“Could you check to see if Mrs. Wicks has eaten her breakfast yet? If she has, bring her to the lounge. She has visitors.” After the word visitors, the receptionist pressed her lips together until they formed a solid line. Once the orderly had drifted off, Noreen returned her gaze to Petrovich. “She hasn’t killed someone or something, has she?”

“We’re just looking into some problems at her house. That’s all.”

“Huh. ’Cause if she was a murderer or somethin’, we’d need to know. We’ve got a lot of other residents to think about, you know. Can’t have some old lady shuffling around, waiting to stick someone for their oatmeal or somethin’. Last year we took in Mr. Hamley, who has a long rap sheet for public nudity. The relatives failed to mention that. We’ve had him flashing his wrinkled wanger all over the place.” She shook her head. “You can’t imagine how upsetting that is to the other residents.”

And thanks for the visual of wrinkled wangers now in my head.

Petrovich responded by saying, “We’ll just wait over in the visitors’ lounge.”

They walked into the open area, and Petrovich sat down on the overstuffed purple sofa in the corner of the room. Sadie chose a straight-backed chair across from him. After a few minutes, Petrovich looked over at Sadie.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“What?” Sadie asked, blinking in surprise.

“Wrinkled dicks. I can tell by the disgusted look on your face you haven’t been able to get it out of your mind.”

“It is pretty disturbing. And I had the pleasure of witnessing Mr. Hamley myself on a previous visit.”

Petrovich chuckled deeply and settled in to wait patiently. Years of surveillance had taught him the art of waiting. Sadie, on the other hand, shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

They were not the only souls in the visitors’ lounge but Sadie wasn’t about to tell Petrovich that two old geezers, one Asian and one black, who’d obviously passed away, were playing an invisible card game at a table a few feet away. The Asian geezer was winning and he was mocking his friend.

After ten minutes Sadie began looking at her watch and blowing out huffy breaths.

“Stop fidgeting,” Petrovich growled.

“I can’t help it. I’m not used to sitting around in old folks’ homes. The place creeps me out, and the smell . . .” She shuddered. “Why do all senior homes smell like that?”

“Disinfectant and urine,” Petrovich said, then took a deeper breath. “And floral air freshener.” He cut his gaze to Sadie. “We’ve smelled worse.”

“True,” Sadie acknowledged. There was nothing worse than the smell of body decomp; it rolled into your sinuses and stayed there. Often you tasted it for weeks. It would also cling to your hair, and that was one of the reasons Sadie kept hers short.

After another few minutes of sitting quietly, Sadie began fiddling with her cell phone. Zack hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted her. Hadn’t left a voice mail message and hadn’t just hung up after letting it ring a couple times. Her phone history made her depressed.

“So what are you going to do about him?” Petrovich’s voice had softened as he cut into Sadie’s reverie.

“About who?” Sadie asked, playing dumb.

“Bowman.”

Sadie sighed. “Nothing I can do. He’s moved out. He’s on the quick road to hell, riding on Vicodin and vodka. Breakfast of champions.” Sadie’s voice hitched. “Not to mention the fact that he’s moved in with his ex-girlfriend.”

Petrovich slid forward on the sofa and reached out to put his thick, calloused hand on Sadie’s leg. “He’s an idiot but his addiction is real. You can’t fight it for him. He’s gotta pull himself out. You can open the door, but he’s still gotta decide whether or not he wants to walk on through.”

Sadie nodded sharply and took a deep breath. “I know,” she said. She looked over at Petrovich and gave him a grateful smile. She noticed again how he’d changed since his painful divorce. Not just the fact that he was taking better care of himself by losing weight and spiffing up his appearance, but she noticed his eyes were sharper and that they’d lost the ache that had dulled them for months.

“I’ve got to tell you, Dean, you’re looking good,” Sadie said. “Things must be going well.”

He held out his hand and rocked it side to side. “So so,” he said. “Better. She got married again.”

“Oh!” Sadie cringed and then felt bad for looking so shocked.

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “It snapped me out of it. I realized that I could live alone in a shit apartment and eat crap fast food every day, or I could start living. So I’ve been going out. Not bars and stuff,” he said quickly. “But the gym and I’m taking a cooking class. I make a wicked pasta primavera.”

“That’s great,” Sadie said, and meant it.

“You still running?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Not as much as I’d like but I still put in a few miles a week. I ran the half marathon a couple months ago.” She flinched in memory. “I had blisters on my blisters. Sure not ready for the full twenty-six miles yet.”

He leaned in again. “So what kind of shoes do you find work for you? I’ve been spending a shitload on athletic gear but damned if my feet don’t friggin’ hurt every time I get off the treadmill.”

“You gotta go for a proper fitting. Go to the sports store that Sylvia Toth is running. Remember her?”

“How could I forget?” Petrovich shook his head. It had been a difficult case, a murder-suicide that Sadie had forced him to reopen.

Petrovich got to his feet and Sadie followed his gaze. Mrs. Wicks was being led into the room, the orderly guiding her with a hand on her elbow. She walked slowly, and when she reached Petrovich and Sadie, the orderly told her to sit.

“These are the folks here to see you,” he said.

“Screw off, you motherf—”

“Watch your mouth, Mrs. W. You know we don’t stand for that here,” the orderly said. To Petrovich and Sadie, he said, “She ain’t having a good day. When you’re done with her, just press the buzzer on the wall in the corner and I’ll come for her. Don’t leave her alone. She’s sneaky.”

Mrs. Wicks stuck her tongue out and blew a wet raspberry at the orderly as he left.

Sadie stared at her. The change was amazing. She was definitely not the same woman Sadie sat with before.

“What do you want?” Mrs. Wicks demanded, glaring sharply first at Petrovich and then at Sadie.

“We had some problems over at your house and—” Petrovich began.

“What house?” Mrs. Wicks demanded. “You mean my apartment on Elm and Fifth?”

Petrovich looked confused. “Your house on Sunnyside Avenue in Green Lake,” he told her.

“If I had a house in Green Lake, do you think I’d be staying at this crappy flophouse?”

Petrovich opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

“We want to talk to you about somebody taking some stuff from the upper bedroom at the house on Sunnyside Avenue. The house where you kept all your stuff,” Sadie said. When Mimi just offered her a blank look, Sadie added, “You know, all your belongings. Boxes and boxes of things you collected inside your house. The home you lived in before coming here. The place where you raised Paula.”

Mrs. Wicks looked angry and then flustered. She began wringing her hands nervously.

“You should go. I don’t feel so well. You should go,” Mimi said, her eyes skipping around the room, looking at anything but them.

“We’ll come back another day,” Petrovich said softly.

His phone rang, and he dug it from his pocket and walked across the room to take the call. He pressed the button on the wall to summon the orderly as he went.

“No sweets for ol’ Sugar Bottom?”

Sadie glanced up to see that the bent-over old geezer named Marvin had come up behind her.

“Hi,” Sadie said.

Mimi didn’t respond except to keep saying, “You should go.”

“Give her a treat, if you’ve got one,” Marvin said. “It works wonders.” He clicked his dentures together.

Sadie saw that Petrovich was still on the phone, so she figured she might as well hang out with Mimi a moment longer before the orderly arrived. She opened her purse and pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to Mrs. Wicks.

“Chocolate! Aren’t you the sweetest thing for remembering it’s my favorite,” Mrs. Wicks exclaimed. She unwrapped the bar quickly and devoured it in two huge bites, glancing furtively left and right as if she was sure someone would steal it from her.

Marvin chuckled. “That ought to do the trick. It’s not a miracle drug, but it’ll put her in a better mood.”

Sadie watched Marvin traipse out of the room and around the corner.

“When you’re feeling more like talking, I’d like to ask you about the guy haunting your house,” Sadie whispered.

For a moment Mrs. Wicks’ eyes seemed to clear, but just as quickly the look was gone.

“We should’ve stayed at the apartment on Elm Street,” Mrs. Wicks said sadly. “It would’ve been better for Paula.” She handed the chocolate wrapper to Sadie. “More?”

Sadie took out another candy bar and watched in amazement as this one disappeared into Mimi’s mouth as quickly as the first.

“Why would the apartment on Elm Street have been better for Paula?” Sadie asked.

“On account of that dumb little Carole Brant,” Mimi replied, her mouth a gaping hole of melted chocolate.

“Carole Brant?” Sadie blinked in surprise. “Your neighbor’s daughter?”

“Yeah,” Mimi replied, holding her hand out for another treat. “Carole Brant’s troubles were our troubles.” She snapped her fingers. “More!” she demanded.

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got,” Sadie told her, and just then the orderly arrived.

“We’ve got to get you back to your room now, Mrs. W.” He helped her to her feet. “Say bye to your friends.”

Mimi offered Sadie a demure smile and said, “Bye bye,” in a childlike voice.

Marvin returned. He gave Sadie a two-finger salute as a good-bye and then chatted amiably to Mimi as she was led out of the room.

Petrovich ended his call and motioned for Sadie that it was time to go.

“It’s weird how she seemed perfectly fine the last time,” Sadie said as she walked shoulder to shoulder with Petrovich back to the parking lot.

“That’s how this shit works,” the detective replied. “When my dad had Alzheimer’s, it was always a crapshoot whether you’d find him in the present or the past. Sometimes I was Dean his son the cop, and the next time I was my dad’s kid brother and he was yelling at me for stealing the marbles he hid under their bunk bed. It sucks. Maybe we’ll come back tomorrow and find she’s back.”

“Maybe,” Sadie said.

“Yeah, or this time could be the time she’s gone for good.”

Petrovich walked Sadie to her car and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Things are rough for you right now, what with Bowman being a shit and your dad just passed. If you want to come over for dinner tonight, I’ll impress you with my pasta primavera.” When Sadie would’ve protested, he held up a hand. “Nuthin’ romantic. Just two people in the same biz sharing pasta.”

Sadie started to say no but she realized that Petrovich was willing to put her ghostly talents behind him and pretend she was normal. He was offering the olive branch, and she felt obligated to accept. She told him yes but then quickly added, “But I’ve got that stabbing to clean up at the Ocean View School in the morning, so it’ll be an early night.”

“Great. Come by around six,” Petrovich said, and then he practically ran off as if he had a million things to do.

Sadie didn’t run. Instead, once she got to her car she hesitated with her keys poised at the ignition. With a shake of her head, she climbed out of her car and walked back toward the building.

Noreen greeted her with, “You again?”

“Sorry,” Sadie said. “I just thought of something else I wanted to tell Mimi.”

“Huh. Well, the orderly brought her back to the lounge because she insisted she’s waiting for the chocolate lady.”

“Um, chocolate lady?” Sadie asked.

“Yeah.” Noreen narrowed her eyes. “Don’t suppose you know anything about that, do you? On account of Mimi can be a bit of a sugar nut so we’re trying not to overindulge her sweet tooth.”

Sadie shrugged and started to walk in the direction of the visitors’ lounge and then stopped. Over her shoulder she asked Noreen, “How often does she get like this?”

“Like what? Like she doesn’t know anyone or anything?”

Sadie nodded.

“Dementia is like a rockin’, rollin’ roller-coaster ride. You can’t never tell when it’ll be an up day or a down day. One day Mimi remembers every detail of her life and everyone in it, and then the next day she’s back to being a little girl and thinking you’re her mama.” She shook her head slowly. “You could come back tomorrow and she’s good as gold. Or this could be it. Sometimes it’s a slow decline and other times it’s a sudden drop to hell.”

“I should give you my card.” Sadie pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Noreen.

She gazed down at Sadie’s Scene-2-Clean trauma cleaning services card. “Gee. Thanks.” She flipped over the business card to read the services offered on the back. “Trauma clean, unattended death cleans, and suicides, huh? Hope I never need your services.”

Sadie fully realized most people didn’t plan on hiring a trauma clean company. She nodded toward the visitors’ lounge and headed in that direction. She saw Mimi sitting on the same purple sofa with a look of utter bewilderment on her face along with a small smudge of chocolate. Sadie approached her, walking around the two ghosts still playing the same invisible card game, but now they were arguing about which one was cheating.

Marvin was walking away looking sad, but Mimi brightened the minute she saw Sadie and waved her over.

“Hi, Mimi.” Sadie sat down on the chair next to the sofa. “Thought I’d try talking to you a bit more.” Sadie cleared her throat. “Can we talk about the house on Sunnyside?”

Mimi said with a quick smile, “Whenever I come here to school, I like walking past the house with the blue shutters best.”

“School?”

“You must be new,” Mimi said. “Don’t worry about Mr. Patterson. He’s really a nice principal. He likes to yell but his bark is worse than his bite. Just make sure the hem of your skirt doesn’t creep up too short and you’ll be fine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sadie paused. “Can we talk about Paula?”

Mimi Wicks pursed her lips in thought. “I think she’s in Mr. Smith’s homeroom.”

It was useless. Sadie sighed and wracked her brains for a way to shake Mimi back to the here and now. Then the orderly was there to take her back to her room.

“You ready to go back now, Mimi?”

“George!” Mrs. Wicks exclaimed. “I thought you’d stood me up. You didn’t sit with me in the cafeteria at lunch. I thought maybe you’d given another girl your pin.”

“I’ve only got eyes for you, Mimi.” He winked at Mrs. Wicks, causing her to blush. Then he reached out his hand to help her to her feet. To Sadie, he whispered, “Sometimes she thinks I’m her high school boyfriend. It’s easier to just go along.”

“That’s really nice of you.”

Sadie got to her feet and watched Mrs. Wicks slowly saunter off with her hand in the orderly’s until they were about ten feet away. Sadie was about to turn and go herself when suddenly Mrs. Wicks tugged her hand from the orderly’s grasp. With the agility of a woman half her age, she whirled around and strode back to Sadie in long, leaping strides.

“He got what he deserved!” Mimi sneered, and shook an angry, gnarled finger in Sadie’s face. “He got what he deserved!”

“Who?” Sadie asked, taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor. “Who got what he deserved?”

“What’s up, Mimi?” the orderly asked, rushing to take her hand in his. “Why are you so upset?”

She turned slowly, and then the anger and pent-up energy in her body seemed to evaporate, and she gave the orderly a slow, demure smile and a gentle tap on the chest.

“George, shame on you! You didn’t show up in the cafeteria for lunch. I hope you weren’t thinking of giving Edna Farly your pin. “She leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “She’s fast, you know. Not a lady like me. You deserve someone much better than that.”

“You’re the only gal for me,” the orderly said, patting her hand.

Sadie watched them leave. Marvin drifted into the room and slowly shook his head when he saw Mimi.

To Sadie he said, “I hate seeing her like that.”

“It must be tough.” Sadie nodded in agreement. “Are you two close?”

“Sugar Bottom and I are like this.” He twisted two fingers together. “She tells me everything.”

“Good,” Sadie said, walking a little closer to him. “Then maybe you’d know what she meant when she said, ‘He got what he deserved.’ ”

“It’s nothing,” Marvin said with an abrupt shake of his head. “She just says that sometimes. I think she’s talking about the guy who used to work in the cafeteria. He got fired for always being overbudget and under quality in the kitchen. Mimi was a fine cook in her day and she was disgusted with the cook’s sawdust meat loaf and leathery chicken, so she got everyone to write complaints and get the guy fired. Of course, that was on a good day.”

“Hmmm.” Sadie had watched Marvin as he’d spoken. His words had come out quickly and he’d scuffed his feet nervously while looking down at the ground. Marvin was definitely not telling her the whole truth.

“You best be careful, though,” Marvin said, and this time the old man looked Sadie directly in the eye. “Mimi was just saying this morning that a big ugly guy at the house wants to bury you.”

13

Marvin chuckled a little as he walked away. “I know it sounds crazy. Who knows what Mimi’s remembering when she talks about big ugly men. She also believes she’s going to the prom in a few days.”

Sadie was too stunned to speak. There was only one big ugly guy at the house, and Sadie knew he’d bury her if he could. By the time she thought to question Marvin about what Mimi was talking about, Marvin had strolled off around the corner and into an area that was off-limits to visitors.

Sadie returned to her car, and it wasn’t until she put her hands on the wheel that she realized how badly they were shaking. Mimi Wicks knew something about the Sunnyside Avenue ghost, but Sadie had no idea how to get the woman to talk about it.

She was still thinking about it when she went home and traded her Honda for the Scene-2-Clean van. She’d been corresponding with the school’s insurance company via e-mail and was expecting a message, so she decided to bring her old laptop along on the job and check for messages on a break.

Sadie returned to the Ocean View School, anxious to go to work and stop her mind from thinking of Zack, Dad, or ugly ghosts in green boxers. She used Principal Tu’s office and dressed in her biohazard suit, and then she headed to the end of the hall to go to work cleaning the blood and body fluids of a sliced-and-diced janitor.

She started in the art center since it was the area of with the largest amount of work required. Sadie didn’t want to deal with Virgil Lalty. He looked at her with beseeching eyes, and the flap of skin from the cut in his neck wiggling every time he moved. It was tough, but Sadie had made up her mind to ignore the ghost. She didn’t want to send someone over today. Her heart, aching with loss, just wasn’t in it.

But the more Sadie pretended Virgil Lalty didn’t exist, the harder it was for her to concentrate on her job. She went to spray emulsifiers onto the dried tissue and dropped the entire bottle, spilling it everywhere. She attempted to cut away the carpet that was damaged by dried blood, and she sliced the tip of her glove off with the X-Acto knife and barely missed her finger. It wasn’t like Sadie to make mistakes on the job, but she finally had to admit her head wasn’t in it. She went back to Principal Tu’s office and doffed her gear. There was a small private washroom off the office, and Sadie used the bathroom first and then decided to make use of her laptop to check her e-mails.

The e-mail checking turned into a two-hour run playing FreeCell. Her fingers clicked the mouse and her brain emptied of anything but the cards flipping in front of her. When her cell phone rang, Sadie jumped, swore, and skittishly fumbled the phone on the desk. It skidded across the polished wood top and onto the floor through a small space between the desk and the wall.

“Damn,” Sadie groaned.

She got down on her knees, lowered her head, and looked around. She spotted the phone banked against the wall in the farthest corner. The ringing had stopped and there was a short beep indicating a voice mail message. Sadie reached her arm for the phone and attempted to grab it, but there were cardboard file boxes stacked neatly on both sides under the desk, and she wasn’t small enough to squeeze between them. Even after shoving an arm way to the back, she came up short. Now she was annoyed. She’d have to pull the heavy desk away from the wall.

Getting to her feet and straightening, Sadie looked around as if seeing the office for the first time. Principal Tu was obviously very organized. Sadie breathed in and took in the scent of furniture polish and an underlying smell of ammonia. As clean as it was, the office was a feng shui nightmare. It just looked wrong.

“Who the hell would want to look at a wall all day?” Sadie grumbled.

Sadie walked around to the side of the desk, preparing to put her back into it. As she grasped the wood edge to tug it away from the wall, she glanced down. Immediately she noticed four round dents in the carpet over to her right. The desk had recently been moved. It never used to face the wall. According to the imprints in the carpet, the desk used to face the doorway to greet whoever entered. When Sadie worked as a grade school teacher, that was exactly how she recalled the principal’s desk. That location was all the better to intimidate young children arriving for disciplinary action. Perhaps Principal Tu would return the desk to its original position when she had to face that first brat of the school year.

Sadie heaved on the corners of the desk so that the heavy piece of furniture slid a few inches away from the wall. Then she walked around and blindly reached between the desk and wall and grappled along the floor for her phone. Her fingers finally found their target.

“What are you doing?” snapped a female voice.

Sadie squeaked in surprise and bumped her head when she tried to straighten. She slowly got to her feet and turned to face Cheryl Tu, who looked utterly perturbed.

“I, um, came in to use your office, like you so generously offered, and—”

“I said you could use my office, not rearrange my furniture.” Cheryl Tu strode over, and with more strength than Sadie had expected from the petite woman, she thrust her hip at the edge of her desk, shoving it back to its position against the wall.

“I wasn’t rearranging anything. I just dropped my phone.” Sadie held up her cell phone as proof.

Principal Tu walked around to sit behind the desk in her chair. She glanced at the FreeCell game on Sadie’s computer screen and frowned over at Sadie.

“You’re winning your game, but how are things coming at the other end of the hall?” The razor-sharp look in her eyes had no doubt sent shivers down the spine of many a student.

“Things are going well.” Sadie blushed at being caught slacking off and rushed to cover up. “I was just taking a break while I waited for the insurance company to e-mail me back regarding a question.”

“Couldn’t you be cleaning while you waited?” Principal Tu asked.

What? And blow a FreeCell winning streak of a dozen games in a row?

“Actually, I’ve done all I can for now. I have to wait until tomorrow to start the next stage of the clean and—”

“Oh.” Ms. Tu’s face fell and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Sorry. I was really hoping you’d have this done this evening.”

“It’s going to take at least a couple of days. You have to understand that due to the amount of dried tissue alone, I need to allow the emulsifiers to soak in. Plus some of the drywall will actually need to be removed as well as some carpeting.”

“Damn.” Cheryl Tu drummed her fingers on the desktop, and Sadie noted her nails were chewed down to nothing. A naughty habit for a school principal.

“I should manage to get a lot of the work accomplished tomorrow but, of course, there’s the matter of repairs. Some of the carpet company and drywallers could provide estimates tomorrow, but I have no idea how quickly they’ll be available to do the job.”

Ms. Tu continued drumming her no-nail fingertips on the desk. “I guess we won’t be using that classroom immediately. That’s a shame.” And she looked genuinely disappointed and disheartened by the whole thing. Sadie was surprised to see the woman was blinking back tears. “I just really want the kids to return to school without any reminders of this horrible event.”

“Well, school doesn’t start for another week, so it’s entirely possible. And you know that even if the drywall and carpeting isn’t repaired, the contamination will be contained so classes could still go on,” Sadie said. “Push one of the easels in front of the damaged section of wall and put a small rug down on the missing section of carpet, and nobody will know.”

“Sure,” Principal Tu said, but her look said that Ocean View School wasn’t used to covering up renovation nightmares, or murders.

“I’m going to pack up now so that I can get an extra early start tomorrow.”

Sadie gathered up her belongings and left the principal with a promise to follow up with a status report at the end of the day tomorrow.

It wasn’t until she was back behind the wheel of her van and another telltale beep sounded from her pocket that Sadie remembered the missed call. She took out her cell phone and glanced at the display. The missed call was from Zack, but that wasn’t what caused Sadie to pinch her brows together in concentration. In the corner of the display screen was a small but distinct smudge that looked a helluva lot like blood.

Sadie never took her phone with her into a contaminated area. It remained with her supplies in the safe zone, so there was no way it could’ve gotten anything on it from the crime scene. Narrowing her eyes, she examined the smudge. Definitely looked like blood but she needed to be sure.

Sadie got up from the driver’s seat and walked to the back of her van. First she used her digital camera to take a close-up photo of her phone. Then she opened one of the many storage containers in the back and took out an eye-dropper and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. A few seconds later she carefully squeezed a drop of the hydrogen peroxide onto the smudge on her phone. The immediate fizzing, bubbling reaction confirmed her suspicions. Blood.

Sadie guessed that her phone somehow got the smudge when it fell behind Cheryl Tu’s desk. So what the hell was blood doing behind her desk?

If her phone had been in the contaminated area, Sadie would’ve had to throw it in with the medical waste and have it destroyed. Since it was merely a small drop, she used disinfectants and a cotton swab to thoroughly clean the screen.

Her phone rang again just as she’d completed the task.

“Just checking to see if we’re still good for six,” boomed Petrovich’s voice.

Sadie looked at her watch. “I’m just wrapping up,” Sadie told him. “I’ll go wash up and be at your place by about quarter past.”

“Perfect,” he said. “You like red wine?”

“Yeah. Red is fine. Great.” Then she remembered her manners. “But I’ll bring the wine. It’s the least I can do.”

“Don’t bother; I’ve got plenty,” he said.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

Sadie was about to ask Petrovich if anything more had happened at the Sunnyside Avenue house but figured she’d wait until she was sitting across from him at dinner. It would give them something else to talk about besides his divorce and her problems with Zack. She’d much rather discuss mummified babies.

“Nothing. I’ll see you soon.”

She ended the call and pulled her van into traffic just as she remembered that Zack had also called. Sadie nervously punched in Zack’s number while simultaneously wheeling the lumbering van out of Capitol Hill and toward home.

The phone rang a few times and then went to voice mail.

“Um. You called me,” Sadie said weakly. “So I’m calling you back. I, um, hope you’re okay and maybe we could, you know . . . talk.” She hit the off button to disconnect the call and swore softly under her breath.

She hadn’t checked to see if he’d left her a message, so she dialed her voice mail and listened to Zack’s voice smooth over the line into her ear.

“Look, Sadie, I don’t want things to end like this. . . .” But “this” came out as “thish,” and the slow drawl of his tone indicated he was hammered. “I jus-s-st want . . . Hell, I don’t know what I want. Guess we jus-s-st need a break for a while.”

Sadie blinked back tears as she punched the accelerator, and the Scene-2-Clean van lurched forward down the street. She pushed in a CD and with tears in her eyes sang along to a soft rock song about lost love.

By the time she parked the van in her garage, Sadie’s nose was red and her eyes were puffy but she’d stopped blubbering. She walked straight from the garage into the mudroom that doubled as her own safe zone. Here she showered and put any clothes she wore on a job straight into the washer and dryer next to the shower stall so that nothing from a job entered her house. After cleaning up, Sadie felt almost human. She put on just her fuzzy housecoat for now and then checked her answering machine, playing back messages from Maeva, Dawn, and one hang-up that the call display told her was from her mother. Maeva’s was the only call she returned.

“I’ve decided to help you with your dad,” Maeva announced.

“Uh-huh.” Sadie played on the floor with Hairy, rolling a small sisal rope ball and watching him hop at it, ringing the bell inside. “And how exactly do you plan to help me with my dad? Are you going to bring him back from the dead?”

“No, I’m going to help you send him over.”

“Hmmm,” Sadie said, distractedly snagging the ball and rolling it away again. She got to her feet and decided it was time to dress if she wasn’t going to be late for dinner.

“Are you even listening to me? What are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out what to wear when you’re going to someone’s place for dinner but you don’t want them to think it’s a date or something.” Sadie opened her closet and peered inside.

“And whose place are you going to for dinner?”

“Dean Petrovich.”

“That burly cop who always has food stains down the front of his clothes?”

“He’s cleaned up a bit over the past year,” Sadie remarked.

“Is this a business dinner?”

“Maybe,” Sadie said, thinking of the Sunnyside Avenue house. “Mostly, I think it’s a pity dinner. He feels sorry for me because of Zack and my dad.”

“There ain’t no pity involved, Sadie. That man has had serious hots for you since the beginning of time.”

“No. If there’s any ulterior motive, it’s that he probably wants to try to figure out how I can help him get his workers back into the Sunnyside Avenue house.” Sadie paused. “Don’t suppose you’ve changed your mind about helping out with that one?”

“Nope, but I did confer with an old friend. How about Louise?”

“The ghost buster with the mega purse?”

“That’s the one.”

“Last time she tried to help me with a job, didn’t we burn down a few acres of a crime scene?”

“She’s gotten better at smudging since then. Seriously.

She could help you out.”

“Maybe . . .” Sadie said, but was thinking, Definitely not. She was also thinking about Zack and about how she couldn’t talk this out with him, and it made her sad. She was aware the Maeva was saying something, but she hadn’t heard the words. “Sorry . . . what did you say?”

“Are you okay?” Maeva asked.

“Zack’s moved out.”

“What?”

“He moved out of here and in with Paula.”

“No!”

“Yes.” Sadie closed her eyes against the pain because saying it out loud made it somehow even more a reality.

“I’m coming over,” Maeva said firmly.

“It’s okay,” Sadie said. “Besides, I’ve got dinner with Petrovich, remember?”

“You know, a dinner out with someone else might just be what you need. Even if it is Detective Petrovich. You need distraction. You need an admiring man sitting across from you at dinner, looking at you as if you’re the best thing since sliced bread. It’ll do wonders for your ego.” She paused and then added, “Just don’t sleep with him.”

“Petrovich? Ewww!” Sadie said, and laughed. “We’re more like siblings or something.” She knew Maeva was joking with her and trying to make her feel better, and she was grateful for her friend’s attempt. “Thanks for the laugh.”

“Call me anytime, Sadie. Seriously. And I’ll have Louise call you regarding that haunted house.”

After they disconnected Sadie stood staring at her closet a moment and finally decided on her everyday Levi’s and a loose-fitting, navy long-sleeved tee with her Mariners ball cap pulled on for good measure. Her outfit screamed casual friends and definitely, positively not a date.

She rummaged through the bottom of the closet for her good Nikes but Zack had made such a mess when he’d hurriedly packed his things that her shoes were piled in a huge heap. Sadie uncovered one shoe, and while digging for the second her fingers closed around a small drugstore bag. She opened it and discovered two empty bottles of prescription meds. Vicodin. One dated a couple months ago and the other from only a few weeks earlier. Sadie was dumbfounded and crushed. She sat down on the floor and stared at the bottles in her hands, not wanting to accept their implication. Finally, she got to her feet, and with a feverish look she began searching the house. When it was all said and done, she’d found only one more bottle, this one with still a few pills remaining, crammed deep into the sofa cushions. No doubt he’d tossed out any others.

Why hadn’t she seen the obvious: that Zack had been back on the drugs for months?

Sadie got in her car to head for Petrovich’s apartment even though she would’ve preferred to curl up in the fetal position at home. She remembered what Maeva said about needing a distraction and prayed the evening would provide just that. When she arrived at Dean’s apartment, he opened the door, looking almost identical to her in his own jeans, blue tee, and, wouldn’t you know it, his Mariners ball cap.

“Hey, look at us!” Petrovich exclaimed with a loud guffaw. “Guess great minds think alike.” He stepped aside and ushered her into his apartment. “Come in. Come in.”

Sadie immediately removed her ball cap so she could separate herself from the weird twinlike look and kicked off her Nikes. She glanced around the apartment and nodded with approval.

“The place looks great, Dean. You’ve really spiffed it up.” The last time she’d been in Petrovich’s apartment was when she’d stopped in briefly a couple months ago with Zack to get some information on a job. The place had been a dump littered with fast-food wrappers, old newspapers, and smelly socks. Now there wasn’t a wrapper, paper, or sock in sight.

“Well, I’ve got the lady across the hall cleaning for me once a week. That helps,” Petrovich admitted. He’d walked across the cramped apartment to the kitchen nook, where he proceeded to dump some fresh pasta into a pot of boiling water.

“It’s not just clean,” Sadie said, glancing around. “You’ve actually decorated.” She pointed to a nearby wall that boasted framed black-and-white photos of various Seattle sites. “I like the pictures.”

“Thanks. Another hobby I took up.”

“You took these?” Sadie’s jaw dropped in surprise, and she began looking at the shots more closely.

“Yeah. I took one of those classes at the community center. When I looked at the price of pictures for my apartment I figured, hell, I could take better myself.” He laughed and brought her a glass of red wine. “Take a load off, Novak.” He nodded toward the sofa.

Sadie waited for Dean to sit first in an overstuffed recliner that was worn with wear and had obviously survived the makeover. Sadie took a seat on the newer green leather love seat.

She sipped her wine and pronounced it delicious. They fell into an uncomfortable pause until Sadie blurted, “So what do you know about the knifing at Ocean View School in Capitol Hill?”

Petrovich settled back into his chair with a look of relief to have something to talk about. “PBF caught that case,” he said.

“PBF?” Sadie asked.

“Pretty Boy Floyd,” Petrovich stated. “Otherwise known as Floyd Grayson. He’s been around a while. Half-decent detective, just too handsome for his own good, so—”

“So that’s why they call him Pretty Boy,” Sadie finished.

“Right. So PBF caught the slice ’n’ dice at the school and, as far as I know, he’s still working a sweat over it.” He took a large gulp from his wineglass.

“No immediate suspects? The school’s closed for the summer, and somebody just waltzed in and cut up the janitor for no apparent reason?”

“Oh, there was reason. . . .” He grinned into his glass of wine and slurped noisily.

“What do you mean?” Sadie asked.

He didn’t answer; instead Petrovich got up and hustled back over to the kitchen and began lifting the lids off pots and stirring.

“You saying he needed killing?” Sadie asked, slipping a southern lilt into her tone.

“That’s what others are saying,” Petrovich admitted, holding up a hand. “Not that I’m saying that’s right, but if a man has a taste for little kids, then—”

“You’re saying Virgil Lalty was a pedophile?” Sadie asked, leaning forward with interest.

“I’m not saying anything of the sort,” Petrovich said. He continued stirring the pasta.

“But others are saying it, so there must be some kind of evidence.”

“Just because a man has pictures of kids—”

“What kind of pictures?” Sadie demanded.

“Not those kinds of pictures,” Petrovich said. “But, hey, if I had a kid at that school and I saw my kid’s face plastered on an old man’s locker wall, then, hey, I might take offense. I might even poke him to see if he squeals.” He lifted the lid of a second pot and stirred. “We’ll be eating in five minutes.”

Sadie thought about the bits of tape all over Virgil Lalty’s locker area in the janitor supply closet. If that’s where the photos had been, they’d all been brought in as evidence.

Sadie snagged a bowl of salad greens from the kitchen and brought it to the table.

“Anything else I can do?” she asked.

“Nope.”

“So Virgil Lalty had no record of messing with kids?” Sadie asked.

“That’s the funny thing. He was kind of long in the tooth to be just getting into this kind of stuff.”

“What do you mean?”

“Usually guys who do this thing, they find out pretty early in life that they lean that way, and they have a hard time keeping it under wraps. Mind you, the picture taking might have had more of a financial motive. The sites we found on his computer, the ones he’d been selling pictures to, they paid big bucks.”

“Someone had a lot of rage in them to chase a man around a school and stab him that many times,” Sadie reasoned. “That kind of blood spatter means a vicious attack. It’s gotta be personal, right?”

“You working up to a question?” Petrovich asked, raising his eyebrows at her from overtop the steaming pot.

Sadie shrugged.

Petrovich opened the fridge and handed her a bottle of dressing for the salad. She put it on the table next to the salad and then took a seat. She was relieved to see there were no candles that suggested this was a romantic dinner for two. Just good food prepared by a man who was proud to show off his newfound culinary skill.

They ate the salad in silence, and when they were done, Petrovich quickly handed Sadie a heaping plate of spaghetti with marinara. She took one bite and pronounced it delicious.

“A little salty, though,” Petrovich said humbly.

“Not at all,” Sadie said, but she gulped down a mouthful of wine.

“I’ve got to control my urge to overspice.” Petrovich smiled sheepishly. “That’s what the instructor said. Less is more.”

“It’s good.” Sadie smiled.

She ate enthusiastically to prove her point. Though admittedly it was a tad oversalted, it was still a good effort and certainly not inedible.

“There was blood in the principal’s office,” Sadie mentioned casually. “Could be transfer but maybe I should talk to PBF about it.”

“I’ll talk to him for you,” Petrovich offered. “And get him to call you.”

Sadie nodded. “So how are things going at the Wickses’ house?” she asked.

“Slow. Crap is still flying in the air but nobody’s really been hurt. The guys go in with hard hats and Kevlar vests.”

Sadie smiled a little at the image. “Maybe I should try again.”

“To do what? Bust that ghost with newfangled ghost buster technology?” He reached for the bottle to refill his own glass, but Sadie’s was still half full and she declined a top-up because she was driving. “Most of the guys, they just want to see that the house gets gutted of all its crap and then never talk about it again to anyone.”

“Maeva knows other people who are better at this kind of stuff. How about if I ask them if they’d be willing to take a look-see?” And hopefully Louise and her wayward smudging don’t burn the house to the ground. “Discreetlike. Nothing that’s going to scream, ‘Ghosts live here and here come see the ghost busters!’ ”

“I guess we could give that a try, if you think it’ll work.”

He picked up their empty plates from the table. Together they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Petrovich stopped Sadie when she was about to start scrubbing the sauce pot.

“Just let that soak,” Petrovich said. “Grab a coffee and take a load off.”

Sadie copied Petrovich, filling up a mug of coffee and then taking it into his living room. Sadie chose the sofa again while Petrovich lowered himself carefully onto his chair, careful not to spill his full mug.

“So how you making out with things? You know, like your dad and Bowman and all? That’s a lot of stress in a short period of time,” Petrovich said.

“It’s a helluva ride,” Sadie said grimly. “I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth,” she admitted.

“So it’s over between you and Zack?”

Sadie thought of the pills hidden around the house and felt like it had been over for months. Reluctantly she nodded.

“Just hang in there. It gets better,” he said wisely. The look in his eyes told Sadie he was thinking about his own divorce.

Sadie didn’t want to talk about Zack or her dad but she did think of something else to talk about.

“I went back and spoke to Mimi after you left. She was still pretty out of it but she did say a couple things. She told me Carole’s troubles were their troubles and that ‘he got what he deserved.’ ”

Petrovich nodded. “Well, Paula Wicks was a classmate of Carole’s. Right around the time we were looking hard at Stephen Brant for the deaths of Tanya and Ashley, I interviewed Paula at the school. She was pretty upset at the time, and I’m sure at some level, Mimi remembers those days. No doubt she remembers Stephen Brant taking his own life in Discovery Park too. There were loads of meetings with parents at the high school to help them find a way to help their kids come to terms with the whole situation.”

There was a knock at the apartment door and Petrovich nearly flew to answer it. “Hi,” he said to the visitor.

“I just wanted to let you know I tried that recipe you recommended, and it’s absolutely wonderful,” gushed a female voice.

Sadie could see the woman clearly from her location on the sofa. She was a short brunette, maybe mid-thirties, with a little extra weight around the middle and a kind face.

“I would’ve used less oregano,” the woman went on. “But still, it was—” She stopped short and a hand flew to her mouth in embarrassment. “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize you had company.”

She was backing away and Petrovich stopped her by snagging her hand in his.

“No problem at all,” he said. “Come in and meet a friend of mine.”

Sadie walked over to the door. “I’m Sadie Novak.” She held out her hand. “My business does work with the Seattle PD and Detective Petrovich was feeding me out of pity.”

The woman chuckled nervously and shook Sadie’s hand.

“This is Jenny,” Petrovich said. “She’s my friend and neighbor from across the hall and also the one who encouraged me to take the cooking classes. After I tried to poison her by making her a meat loaf one time.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jenny said, punching his arm good-naturedly. They shared a soft look between them.

Well, lookee, lookee. Dean’s got himself a girlfriend, Sadie thought with a smile.

“I should go,” Sadie said.

Even though both immediately offered up halfhearted protests, Sadie knew a good time to escape when she saw one.

“I appreciate the meal,” Sadie told Dean. “But I’ve got a ton of paperwork and stuff. You know how it is.” To Jenny she nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

Once in her car Sadie debated what to do next. She could go back to her mom’s place and try to connect with her dad, or she could call Zack and see if she could convince him to either come back home or go into rehab. Neither of the choices appealed to her.

She started up her car, turned on the radio, and pulled out of the apartment parking lot. When Jann Arden began singing “Unloved,” she let the tears start.

Sadie felt like she was in her own limbo hell.

Her dad was not quite dead, and in her heart Zack was not quite gone.

14

Sadie was almost back in her own neck of the woods when she took a call from her sister.

“Mom and Aunt Lynn are over here tonight,” Dawn told her. “Mom wants to distract herself by beating Lynn in cribbage, and Aunt Lynn’s plan is to return the favor by whomping me in a game next.”

“Sounds like fun,” Sadie said.

“Yeah, we’re a regular party central.” She paused. “You sound like you’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” She sniffed.

“Look, Dylan is already in bed, and Mom and Aunt Lynn are more than capable of babysitting a sleeping child. How about I meet you somewhere?”

“I don’t know. . . . I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it.”

“Well, we could do something to take your mind off your troubles.”

“What about John? Do you really think it’s okay to leave your hubby alone with Mom and Aunt Lynn?”

“John’s out at an evening seminar, and he won’t be back for another couple hours.”

“Do you want to meet for coffee?”

“I’d rather talk to Dad.”

Sadie was silent.

“Oh, c’mon,” Dawn whined. “Let’s try again. It’s not fair that you’re keeping him all to yourself.”

“Fine.” Sadie relented. “I’ll meet you at Mom’s place. I can be there in fifteen.”

“I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t too long a drive and traffic was light. Sadie didn’t hold high hopes that Dawn would have the meeting she hoped for with Dad, but when she let herself inside her family home, Dad was in the living room. Well, at least a third of him was there. His legs and feet only. He appeared to be sitting in his favorite chair.

“Hey,” Sadie said by way of a greeting. “How ya doing?”

“What kind of question is that? I’m dead but not dead. How the hell do you think I’m doing?”

“You don’t have to get pissy with me. It’s not my fault.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” her father griped. “I wish I knew what I could do to help this thing along.”

“For starters, you could try giving me a face to talk to. You’re only visible from the knees down.”

“Christ. I can’t even do this right.”

“Dawn’s on her way over. She wants to have a heart-to-heart. Just the three of us.”

“Oh, great. Just great. Now I have to be all wise and profound,” he grumped. “Did you give her the message about all my advice for Dylan?”

“You mean all that crap about finding the right woman and making sure he oiled his ball glove?”

“Yeah. And it’s not just crap. It’s important stuff. My last words, so to speak. Have some respect.”

“Sorry, Dad.” Sadie hesitated and then lied, “Yeah, I told her. It made her all weepy, so maybe don’t bring it up again when she’s here.”

Deep down Sadie knew she was worried that those final words, the advice to Dylan, may be the real reason Dad was left behind. In case that was true, she had intentionally kept his remarks to herself and hadn’t relayed them to Dawn. For now.

“What’s wrong?” Dad asked.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“You’re chewing on your bottom lip and you always do that when you’re worried about something. Or feeling guilty about something,” he added.

“My life’s in the toilet. You’re dead. My boyfriend’s drinking and popping pills, and he moved out. I’m even turning into a slacker on the job.” Sadie rested her head against the back of the sofa and shut her eyes. “Do you have any advice about how to turn this thing around?” When there was no response, she glanced his way. “Dad?”

He was gone.

Suddenly headlights illuminated the living room. Dawn had just pulled into the driveway. She hustled into the house all happy and energized.

“Is he here? Can we talk to him?” Dawn kicked off her shoes as she closed the door behind her and rushed into the living room.

Sadie looked over at her father’s chair, where he wasn’t, and then she lied for the second time in just a few minutes. “He says he’s glad to see you.”

Dawn gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. Blinking back tears, she walked into the living room and perched on the coffee table.

“Can I talk to him? Will he hear me?” she asked, her voice filled with emotion.

“Sure,” Sadie said, feeling miserable at perpetuating the lie. “He’s in his usual spot.” She nodded toward the chair.

Dawn cleared her throat. “Dad, I just want you to know that I miss you terribly and I’ll make sure Dylan knows what a great man you were.” Her voice broke a little but she pushed ahead. “And I know I wasn’t the perfect daughter. There was that time you caught me sneaking out my bedroom window when I was seventeen and I said I hated you when you grounded me, and I’ve never forgotten that. I didn’t mean it. I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” She was crying openly now. “And then when I was eighteen, you thought Brian had smashed the taillight of your new car and really it was me but I was too chicken to tell you, so I let you get all pissed off at Brian and that was wrong. I’m so sorry.” Tears were coursing down her face, and her words were coming out in hitched breaths. “And I—I know I could’ve come around more after Brian died, and I’m so sorry I didn’t but I just couldn’t stand to see you so sad and—”

“Stop it,” Sadie said, brushing away her own tears.

“What?” Dawn sniffed. “Am I doing this wrong? Should I be waiting for him to talk?”

Sadie blew out a slow breath. “He just wants you to know that he loves you very much and none of that stuff matters. He says you were a wonderful daughter and you’re a fantastic mother.”

“Really?” Dawn sniffed again. “He said that?”

“Yes.” Sadie paused as if she was listening but really she was just thinking of what else to say. “He also says that he wants you to focus on the good times and not to have any guilt about what happened in the past because only the future is important. You should know that he’s in a good place now but he’s still keeping watch over you, and he’ll always be with you and he’ll also be around for Dylan.” Dawn kept looking at Sadie expectantly so she finished, “That’s it. He’s gone.”

At that Dawn rushed over and embraced Sadie, clutching her in a hug so tight and filled with emotion that it brought Sadie’s own tears tumbling down her face. After a good cry, they opened a bottle of wine and each had a glass.

Dawn thanked Sadie over and over for the opportunity to have the final talk with their dad.

“Mom really needs to get her act together and realize what a blessing it is for you to have this talent. She could actually say final words to Dad and—”

Sadie couldn’t stand it anymore, and to distract from her own lie, Sadie blurted out about Zack and Paula and Vicodin mixed with a vodka chaser.

“That bitch!” Dawn exclaimed, her anger directed toward Paula. “Paula’s deliberately using Zack’s addiction to get him back.”

“I guess it does look that way,” Sadie said. She frowned into her half-empty wineglass, and she began to wonder how long Paula had really been back in the picture. Was it right around when the pills showed up months ago?

“She’s a sick puppy. She needs a good bitch slap. I can’t believe Zack’s fallen for her bullshit.” Dawn shook her head slowly from side to side. “How are you going to get him back?” Dawn asked, and then corrected, “Do you even want him back?”

Sadie opened her mouth to shout, Yes! but what came out was a weak, “I don’t know.”

She put down her wineglass and rolled her shoulders. “Even if he comes back, and I don’t know if he will, how do I know it won’t happen again?”

“If he’s taking the Vicodin because of his ankle, then once his ankle feels better he’ll be okay, right?”

Sadie smiled wanly at her sister’s naïveté. “He’s washing the pills down with booze, and he’s been doing it for the last couple months now. I must’ve been an idiot not to see it earlier but it makes sense now. He’s been acting . . . different. When I think back I realize that’s the reason why I didn’t jump up and say yes when he asked me to marry him. I knew something wasn’t right but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.”

“You can get him to stop.”

“I can’t get him to do anything,” Sadie said. “He’s chasing the buzz. It’s got its hooks into him. Just like Paula.” Sadie got to her feet and stretched. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore and was saved by the strident ring of Dawn’s cell phone.

“John got home early from his seminar and he wants me to come rescue him from Mom and Aunt Lynn,” Dawn said after hanging up. “Coming?”

“I’ll pass,” Sadie said. “I’m thinking of going home and having a bubble bath and then going to bed early.”

They locked up their mom’s house and parted company. Sadie answered her cell phone when it rang. She didn’t recognize the incoming number on the display but she did know the chipper voice on the other end of the line.

“Maeva tells me we’ve got a case of a big bad bully ghost to blow up,” giggled Louise.

Ah, geez. Well, beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your offer to help, but I should warn you there’s a chance you could get hurt. This guy . . . well, he’s ornery with a capital O and he hurt Zack.”

“Then a show of force is the only way,” Louise insisted. “We’ll go in with an entire troop armed with holy water, smudging supplies, and some of the most powerful spells known for expelling evil.”

“Spells?”

“Didn’t Maeva mention I’ve joined a local Seattle coven?”

“As in witches?”

“Yes.”

Oh, brother. Petrovich was going to have a cow.

Detective Petrovich did not, in fact, give birth to any kind of bovine when he showed up at the Wickses’ house two hours later to let in Sadie and three, um, friends with varying credentials. But his face was pinched shut of all emotion except distrust.

“We’re just going to try to see what we can do,” Sadie assured him. It was dark now, and she stood with him, hiding in the shadow of the large industrial garbage bin in the driveway. The others waited in Sadie’s car.

“If anyone catches wind of this, I’m up shit creek without a paddle,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but if you don’t nip this thing in the bud, people are going to start to talk, right? I mean, you’ve got investigators complaining of having objects tossed at them while they’re working in a supposedly haunted house. How long do you think it’ll take before the media catches wind and the vultures start circling for the story of the year?” She put her hands up, pretending to punctuate a headline. “Seattle PD scared off by ghosts!”

“I know. I know.” Petrovich glanced over at the group in Sadie’s car and sighed. “But . . . c’mon,” he pleaded.

Sadie followed his gaze to Louise, the redhead in a multicolored patchwork dress. Then there were two cue-ball head-shaven people, one a man and the other a woman, who sported so many tattoos and piercings it was difficult to tell where the ink and metal ended and their own skin began.

“Are they as nutty as they look?” he asked.

“Probably,” Sadie admitted. “But supposedly they do know what they’re doing when it comes to this stuff.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Go back to your apartment and rent a romantic DVD to watch with Jenny. Make popcorn and forget all about us.”

“As appealing as that sounds, I can’t leave you and your posse alone in the house all night.” He pointed to the front door. “You’ve got an hour,” he told her. “No more.” He nodded toward Sadie’s car. “And those clowns remain in your car until I’m long gone. I don’t want to talk to them. Hell, I don’t want to even see them.” He closed his eyes until he turned to face Sadie again. “As far as I’m concerned, they’re not even here.”

“Got it.” Sadie put a hand up to signal Louise and the others to wait. Then she followed Petrovich back down the driveway.

“They won’t bite you,” Sadie said with a smirk, and nudged Petrovich’s shoulder with a finger.

“I’m not so sure about that.”

He strolled away, giving Sadie’s Honda a wide berth. Once he’d driven off down the street, Sadie waved the trio over.

The two baldies who’d arrived at Sadie’s house with Louise were named Rosemary and Rick Thingvold. Louise said she thought of them as a husband-and-wife Wiccan revolution. Sadie preferred to think of them as Thing One and Thing Two.

“Before we enter the house, I think it’s important that we agree that we are here as open-minded entities. Not to judge or be judged,” said Rosemary Thingvold, aka Thing One.

“I agree,” said Rick, aka Thing Two.

“What exactly does that mean?” asked Sadie.

“It means that we’re going to try to solve whatever is going on inside the house by using peaceful means,” Louise said, excitement radiating from her every pore. “And that we’ll respect that each of us has specific talents that may work together or apart, but our goal here is—” She placed her hands together prayerlike, closed her eyes, and nodded her head. “Our goal is peace.”

“Um. Sure.” Sadie said to Things One and Two, “You do know that he hasn’t been exactly peaceful so far.”

“We’re aware that the spirit inside is angry and has issues,” said Thing Two.

“We’re prepared to do whatever it takes to try to work things through peacefully,” said Thing One. She held up a small brown satchel. “That’s why I’ve brought brownies.”

“Brownies?” Sadie raised her eyebrows at Things One and Two and then at Louise. “I don’t think Detective Petrovich would appreciate if we left traces of pot at a crime scene. As a matter of fact, I think he’d just as soon throw you in jail for even suggesting it.”

“There’s no marijuana in my brownies,” Thing One said haughtily. “Maybe some chamomile leaves for relaxation but, I assure you, no illicit drugs whatsoever.”

“Besides,” Thing Two spoke up. “They’re not for us. They’re for the specter inside.”

“Oh,” Sadie replied, frowning. “You know, in all my years of being in contact with spirits, I’ve never once seen one eat.”

“Really?” Louise seemed surprised.

“Maybe because they’re, um, dead,” Sadie added. Sheesh!

“Did you ever offer them a bite to eat?” Thing Two asked.

“Well, no,” Sadie admitted. “Probably it escaped my mind to offer them food on account of them being dead and all.” Sadie pressed her fingers to her temples, where a headache was bubbling up. “How about we just go on inside?”

Everyone was in agreement on that, so they entered the Wickses’ house, and Sadie prepared for the worst. Some additional progress had been made with the box removal. The officers had cleared a significant amount of debris away from the first level of the living room area, allowing them clear access to the doorways and halls. It probably had been necessary to make sure they had a speedy escape route for when Mr. Ugly got extra ugly.

“Before we go in search of the demented ass who’s guarding the upper bedrooms, I should know what your plan is,” Sadie said. “Besides offering him brownies and hoping you can convince him we come in peace.”

“Well, I’m going to do a smudging to help purify the area,” Louise said.

“And you’re not going to burn down the house or anything, right?”

“Of course not!”

“Okay, just checking ’cause I know this whole smudging thing involves burning herbs and whatnot, and I don’t want to have a repeat of what happened last year when—”

“It won’t happen again. Besides, that so was not my fault,” Louise said indignantly.

“Right.” Sadie turned to Things One and Two and raised her eyebrows.

“And we’re going to start by making a circle of protection,” Thing Two said.

“And it wouldn’t hurt for us all to recite the Wiccan Rede together,” added Thing One.

“You may have to walk me through that one,” Sadie said as politely as she could.

“The short version will be best,” Louise said.

The three began to recite their little ditty while standing in the front foyer.

“Bide the Wiccan Law ye must, in perfect love, in perfect trust. Eight words the Wiccan Rede fulfill: And ye harm none, do as ye will. And ever mind the Rule of Three: What ye send out, comes back to thee. Follow this with mind and heart, and merry ye meet, and merry ye part.”

They recited the rhyme together, and like some awful pep rally, they ended with whoops and enthusiastic high fives.

Sadie just stood back until it was time to move on.

“Great. Let’s get this thing going,” Sadie said.

“Let’s move closer to the stairs to cast our circle of protection,” suggested Louise.

“We’ll let Rick walk the circle while we prepare the altar,” Thing One said.

“Altar?” Sadie asked, but was ignored.

It turned out that Rick walked around in a very large circle that encompassed most of the main floor while Louise, Thing One, and Sadie stood in the center of the room and emptied the bags of stuff. There were candles, matches, and a weird rodlike stick that Thing One called athame, which, apparently, was another name for wand.

“She could turn you into a toad just like that,” Louise said, snapping her fingers and giggling when Sadie jumped. “I’m kidding of course.”

“Great time for jokes,” Sadie grumbled. She kept looking up the stairs and was well aware that Mr. Ugly could start flinging heavy objects at them any second.

It became apparent that making a so-called circle of protection involved walking in circles a number of times and lighting candles in four separate corners and muttering some kind of chant about perfect love and perfect trust. Sadie wasn’t sure who Things One and Two thought they were dealing with but she could pretty much guarantee that the ghost in the green underpants was not one who was going to procure love or trust. The acid in her stomach was churning with stress and oversalted spaghetti marinara.

Once the chanting and wand waving came to an end, Sadie concluded that it was probably all for nothing.

“If he hasn’t shown by now, he probably won’t,” Sadie reasoned.

“It could be that he was just taken aback by our pure awesomeness,” Louise suggested.

Sadie looked from Louise in her clownlike clothing over to tattooed and pierced Things One and Two and said, “I don’t think that’s it. I think he’s just not feeling very intimidated.”

And he’s probably so busy laughing his ass off he couldn’t be bothered to even show up.

“You said that is the area he’s protecting, right?” Louise asked, pointing up the stairs.

“Sadie, just so you know, the circle will protect this lower level long enough for all those who enter to do so at this level. Provided they don’t break the circle by going up the stairs, he should be contained,” Thing Two explained.

“We’re safe here in the circle,” Thing One said, rubbing her bald head. “Brownie?” She offered a paper sack of the goodies to Sadie.

“I thought they were for the ghost.”

“We were just having fun with you. He’s dead. He can’t eat.”

“Right.”

Louise helped herself to a brownie and then waved it in the air as she spoke. “So then the question is, what is our ghost’s connection to this house?” Louise asked.

“I imagine he died here, right?” asked Thing Two.

Sadie said, “I’ve been trying to answer that question. I thought he was the brother who lived here but he says he’s not.”

“Did you give a description of this spirit to the owner of the house?”

“I tried but, well, she’s not all there.” Sadie tapped the side of her head. “Mrs. Wicks is in a home, and her dementia comes and goes,” Sadie explained.

“Is there anyone else who lived here?” Thing Two asked.

Sadie thought of Paula. “The daughter, but we’re not really on speaking terms.”

“She stole Sadie’s boyfriend,” Louise said.

Sadie offered her a deadly glare. “I can’t believe Maeva told you that.”

“She’s worried about you,” Louise said.

“After we’re done here, we could give you a spell to cast on this woman,” offered Thing One.

“Would it kill her?” Sadie asked hopefully.

“No, but we could probably give her a very uncomfortable rash,” Thing Two said.

“I’ll think about it,” Sadie muttered.

Just then a loud bellowing roar erupted from the hallway.

“Get out of here!” screamed the voice.

Sadie whirled to face the ugly spirit of her nightmares. “It’s him,” Sadie whispered, her voice hoarse with worry.

“God, he really is one ugly dude,” Thing One said.

Sadie raised her eyebrows. “You can see him?”

Thing One nodded.

“She’s sensitive like you and can sometimes make out shapes that represent the spirits of the dead,” Louise said. “Although she can’t talk to them because they can’t hear her. As for me, you already know the spirit is only an occasional wisp of mist I see.”

“Look out!” Sadie shouted.

The ugly ghost heaved a lamp in their direction, and it glanced off an invisible shield and landed with a thud on the ground.

“The circle will hold,” Thing Two announced proudly. To Sadie he said, “Told ya.”

Sadie shook her head in amazement as she watched the angry specter fling object after object in their direction. A hardcover book was followed by numerous random objects snatched from boxes upstairs. Not a single item penetrated the invisible circle.

“Can you leave the circle of protection up so that the cops can work in here?” Sadie asked.

“As long as they don’t try to go beyond this zone,” Thing Two said. “There are no guarantees, you understand, but they should be able to work at least downstairs without threat for a couple days.”

“That’s great,” Sadie said, awed by their ability.

“Now’s a good time to confront him,” Louise suggested.

“Yes,” agreed Thing One. “Ask him what it is he’s worried about and why he’s here.”

“What the hell’s your problem?” Sadie demanded of the ghost. Her hands were fisted at her side as she took a couple of angry steps toward their would-be assailant.

“You let them take my stuff!”

“Who?” Sadie demanded. “Who took your stuff?”

Instead of responding, he put his head down, and with a scream of rage he barreled like a train toward them.

Sadie gasped and jumped back, unsure if their invisible force field would be any match for a ghost who was also obviously a raving lunatic.

There was no sound when Mr. Ugly connected with the circle of protection, but he was brought to an abrupt stop and appeared to bounce backward.

“Who are you?” Sadie called out to him. “If I know who you are, maybe I can help you.”

He got to his feet and offered her a wicked grin followed by an eerie laugh. “There is no help for people like me,” he said in an oily voice.

Sadie opened her mouth to ask what kind of person he was but he was gone.

Thing One told Louise and Rick, “We should leave. We’ve done all we can do here for now.”

“Tell me, do you think he’s evil?” Sadie asked, her heart still thudding quickly after their ghostly run-in.

“Evil as in connected with the devil?” Louise asked.

“Yeah.” Sadie nodded.

“This dude . . .” Louise nodded up the stairs. “He could be a demon or a Satanist, but I just get the impression he’s a bully.”

“A bully?”

“He gets off on intimidating people, especially women. Probably started off as a school yard terror and grew up to be your run-of-the-mill wife beater, rapist, or worse.”

“Tell your cop friend to work quickly on the lower level of the house,” Thing Two suggested. “We’ve never tried leaving a circle of protection up for longer than a couple days, so we can’t make any guarantees.”

Thing One used her wand to cut through the circle as if cutting open a door, and after they’d stepped through to the stairwell that led to the back door, she appeared to shut it behind them.

“Just as a little extra insurance,” Thing One said, removing a vial of water from her bag, “I’ll sprinkle some holy water around the doorway.”

When they left the house Sadie spotted Petrovich waiting in his car.

Sadie pressed the keypad on her keychain to unlock her own car and told the others to go ahead. She stopped to talk to Petrovich.

He rolled down his window when Sadie approached.

“You and your parade of freaks save the day?” he asked cruelly.

“You owe a thank-you to them,” Sadie said curtly. “They came out here and risked their own safety without expecting anything in return.”

“Fine. You’re right and I’m sorry. Tell ’em thanks.” He paused. “What exactly am I thanking them for?”

“For allowing your guys the freedom to go back in the house and clean up without worrying about being pummeled by flying objects.”

“Really?”

“Well, they can’t go upstairs and they’ll need to move quickly. The protection thingamajig will keep the ghost upstairs but only for a couple days.”

“That’s a helluva lot of shit to move in a couple days but I think we’ll manage it.”

“Call me when you do,” Sadie said. “By the way, any word on cause of death on that baby?”

“Corpse is too old to determine cause of death,” Petrovich said with a sigh. “And this ain’t CSI, so we’re looking at a couple more weeks for the DNA tests to come back.”

“Too bad.”

“Yeah, but the autopsy did give us blood type from the marrow.”

“Yeah?” Sadie held her breath, waiting for his response.

“Baby Mummy is AB. Mimi and Paula are both O.”

“Damn.” Sadie’s face fell. “No relation to the Wicks family then.”

“Nope. Guess Mimi’s right. She picked up the friggin’ baby at a garage sale.”

Petrovich offered her a quick salute, and then his engine roared to life and he drove off quickly down the street. Sadie blew out an exasperated breath and walked back to her own car. She’d really believed that the baby was connected to the Wicks family somehow. Now she didn’t know what to think. She was not any closer to finding out who the baby was or why Mr. Ugly was so viciously determined to protect the house.

15

Sadie reached her car and had her hand on the door when she heard a rustle in the bushes a few feet away. She took a step toward the sound and was surprised to see Carole from next door wearing a thick pink housecoat and trying hard to hide behind a sparse cedar tree.

“Hi, Carole,” Sadie said.

The young woman gave up her hiding spot and stepped forward. Sadie was surprised to see her sporting a shiner that was painfully purple.

“I’m not spying or anything,” she said. “I was taking some trash out to the garage and I heard a lot of activity happening.”

“Wow, your eye!” Sadie exclaimed. “What happened?”

“Slipped at work.” Carole spun a red silicone bracelet at her wrist. “It looks worse than it is.”

“Sorry about the noise,” Sadie said, nodding at the Wickses’ house. “It’s tedious work cleaning a house like this. I guess we had the radio turned up kind of loud. I hope we didn’t wake your mom.”

“It’s just after ten. She might be a senior but that doesn’t mean she goes to bed at eight o’clock,” Carole said. “It seems odd to have you here in the evening and the police all day.”

Carole was looking hard at the three people waiting patiently in Sadie’s car. Sadie glanced over to see the shine of the streetlamp making the Thingvolds’ heads glow like two orbs in the backseat.

“Everyone’s just anxious to get the job done,” Sadie said. “I don’t suppose you heard some activity over here a few days ago?”

“What kind of activity?” Carole asked, her eyes still on Sadie’s car.

“The kind that would involve moving thirty or forty boxes out of this house in the middle of the night,” Sadie said.

Carole tore her gaze away from Sadie’s Honda. “The cops already asked me and my mom about that and, like I told them, whoever did it must’ve been awfully quiet or else we would’ve noticed something like that.” She was twisting the red silicone bracelet around and around her wrist.

“Survivor,” Sadie said, reading the inscription on the bracelet out loud.

Carole stopped twirling her bracelet long enough to glance down at it. “Yeah.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a fan of reality television.” She looked embarrassed.

“Right.”

“Are you coming, Sadie?” Louise shouted from the car.

“I’ll be right there,” Sadie called back.

“Again, I’m sorry to have disturbed you.” Sadie turned to go and then looked back. “Oh, and I heard about your dad. I’m sorry for your loss,” Sadie said softly.

Carole looked taken aback and uncomfortable. “It was a long time ago but thanks.”

With that Carole marched off back toward her own yard and Sadie joined the others inside her vehicle.

“Trouble with the neighbors?” Louise asked.

“Nah,” Sadie said. “She’s just being nosy.”

“Well, we’ve decided we want coffee,” Louise announced.

Sadie agreed that she owed them something for their help and brought the gang to the nearest Starbucks. Apparently the price for a witch’s protection these days was a latte and biscotti. Sadie was more than happy to pay it.

Everyone took their coffee to go and Sadie drove back to her own home, where Louise’s car waited in the driveway. Sadie rolled up her garage door but stopped in the driveway to make it easier for everyone to hop out of her Honda and into Louise’s blue Mini Cooper.

“Looks like I got a ticket for parking in your driveway,” Louise quipped as she opened the passenger door of Sadie’s Honda and leaped out.

“What?” Sadie asked in confusion. She looked over and spotted what Louise had seen: a white slip of paper jammed under her wiper.

Sadie climbed out at the same time as the Thingvolds. Louise read the note out loud.

“Join the Queen of Clean and soon you’ll scream.” She raised her eyebrows at Sadie. “The Queen of Clean—is that you?”

“Apparently.” Sadie rolled her eyes. “Someone’s just messing with me.”

“Sounds like a threat to me,” Louise said.

“Sounds like poetry gone horribly wrong to me,” Sadie remarked with a laugh. “At least they just left you a note and didn’t cut up your upholstery or write the message on your dash with a Sharpie.”

All three looked at Sadie quizzically.

“I, um, had a similar message in the Scene-2-Clean van,” Sadie explained. “I was working a scene at the mall and my van was in the lot overnight. I figured that it was teens having a cheap thrill.”

“Whoever it is knows where you live,” Louise said.

“You need to tell the cops,” Thing Two said.

“Immediately,” added Thing One.

“I’ll mention it to Petrovich but . . .” Sadie shrugged. “I’ve gotta say I don’t find being called the Queen of Clean too intimidating. Makes me feel like I should be wearing a tiara. I think if someone were seriously threatening me, they’d find a different way to do it.”

“Maybe . . .” Louise said. She was looking into the shadows and rubbing her arms as if the warm August night had suddenly become chilly.

“We need to do a cleansing,” Thing One announced.

Before Sadie could protest the three had pushed their way inside Sadie’s house and smudged and holy watered every area. Before they left Louise handed Sadie a tiny package of what appeared to be black dusting powder.

“This is for the woman who stole your man,” Louise whispered as she closed Sadie’s fingers around the bag. “Don’t mix it in her food or anything. If you do that, then I’ll deny I ever gave you the stuff.” She giggled. “But sprinkle a little around where she lives and, well, let the gods do the rest.”

“Um. Sure. Fine,” Sadie said, willing to agree to anything to get them out of her house.

When they were finished packing up, Sadie thanked them politely before shooing them out the door. Then she tucked the small bag of powder into her purse and checked and double-checked that all the doors were locked and that her alarm was set.

“Sometimes I think I would’ve been better off with a pit bull,” Sadie told Hairy. His answer was to sneeze a tiny rabbit sneeze. “Sorry about the smoke. The herb smell should clear soon,” Sadie promised. She went into the kitchen and turned on the hood fan to help clean the air.

Hairy followed her around the house; the click-clack of the bunny’s toenails on the laminate floor as he followed her was the only sound. Sadie felt all alone in the big bad world, and she missed Zack terribly.

With a sigh, she scooped up Hairy and nuzzled his fur.

“Sorry for the crack about wanting a pit bull. Maybe I could just train you to sound an alarm or something.”

Hairy wriggled uncomfortably in her snug hug and Sadie released him. She dutifully followed the hopping rabbit into the kitchen, where he was hoping to get yogurt yummies, his favorite treat. Sadie provided him with a couple extra, buying off the guilt of having abandoned him all day.

She poured herself a glass of wine and took it into the living room. She paused at the framed photo of her long-ago friend Pam. They’d worked together in another life—when Sadie was a teacher. Their friendship had been a pillar for Sadie when she was grief-stricken by her brother’s death. Cancer unfairly stole Pam away too soon.

“I miss you.” She stroked the frame lightly with her fingertips.

Sadie sat in the living room and turned on the television, careful to avoid cop shows in all their variations. The wine did its job and she fell into a dreamless sleep in front of the television.

She was jangled awake the next morning by the ring of her home phone, and she mumbled into the receiver before she was even fully awake. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry, Sadie.” It was Zack.

She sat up straight and cleared her throat. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and she had no idea how to respond, so she just blurted what came into her mouth.

“Sorry doesn’t amount to a hill of beans.” It was something her dad had said often, but it sounded stupid coming out of her own mouth.

“I know.” He paused. “Sadie, I want—”

“How’s your ankle?” she interrupted. “I’m really sorry for not being there for your doctor appointment.”

Be tough! Don’t grovel! She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand.

“My ankle is sore but I’m sure it’ll get better every day.”

She was straining to hear if his voice was laced with addiction. Had he sounded slurred and slow for months while he took pills and she never even noticed?

“Sadie, it’s not easy for me to say this. . . .”

What? You want to come home and collect your CDs and last remaining article of clothing? She didn’t want to hear it and so she interrupted him again.

“You got hurt on the job so, as your boss, I should probably offer to pick up your medical bills.”

“I got it covered. I just—”

“And you feel confident you’ve got a good doctor? He did a good job, I mean? You won’t need the surgery?”

“I want to come home, Sadie.”

She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood, and she stifled a sob. The ache of longing in her chest was so physically painful she put one hand over her heart as she pulled in a long breath.

“I found the pills, Zack. The bottles you hid around the house. This wasn’t just a foot injury thing. How long has this been going on?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“Really? It looks like you’ve been hiding an addiction to painkillers and then traded me in for pills, vodka, and Paula, and not necessarily in that order.”

“No!” he shouted. “It wasn’t like that. Sure, I lost it for a few days. It was like I lost my mind when I walked into that hospital after I hurt my foot. Guess it reminded me of when I was shot and then, well, everything else seemed to fall into place to fit that time in my life.”

He was babbling and she heard the underlying slurred tone to his voice clearly now. She knew the speech was probably fueled by intoxication, but she wanted so badly to believe him.

“I know you got hurt but I needed you, Zack. Damn it, my dad just died!” She blinked back tears and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I’ll kick the pills no problem, Sadie. I love you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion. “Let me come home and I’ll prove it.”

“Will you go back to Whispering Groves Drug Rehab Center? They helped you the first time.”

“It’s not that bad. I’m telling you it’s a done deal as soon as my ankle is better.”

Sadie heard the begging in his voice, and her fingernails cut half-moons into her palms as she felt herself giving in. Then she heard a woman’s voice in the background—Paula’s—and it strengthened her resolve.

“I’m going to spend some serious time thinking,” Sadie said. “I suggest you do the same.”

Sadie quietly hung up the phone. She didn’t answer it again when it rang seconds later. Instead, she ignored it and headed for the shower.

After her shower, she checked her cell phone and saw she had two missed calls. One was from Zack and the other was Petrovich. Sadie returned the detective’s call.

“Just wanted to let you know I’ve got my guys working over at Sunnyside Avenue this morning. So far so good. Don’t know what kind of voodoo magic you and your friends worked over there, and I don’t want to know, but I just wanted to say thanks.”

“I can’t take any credit,” Sadie replied. “I just kind of supervised. You’re not letting the guys work upstairs, though, right?”

“Not yet but they’re making good progress moving all those piles of crap to a warehouse where the other team is sorting through it. I’m guessing another day and we’re gonna need to get upstairs.”

“I guess I’ll have to call Louise and the Thingvolds back in for round two when the time comes,” Sadie offered, although she had no idea how that would work. “By the way, Carole Brant was snooping around a bit last night, so I wanted to give you a heads-up in case she calls the department or anything.”

“Snooping how?”

“She was hiding in the bushes when we were just leaving. Said she was putting out her trash and heard us, but I got the impression she was curious about what was going on and what we were doing there.”

“What’d you tell her?”

“Not much; just that we had the radio on a bit louder than we should have while we cleaned up.”

“Good. I don’t think she’s anything to worry about. She’s probably just curious.”

“Yeah, that’s what I figured too.” Sadie added, “By the way, Louise had a weird note on her car afterward.”

“Her car?”

“Yeah, it was parked in my driveway. It sounds a lot like the first message, the one written on the dash of my van.” Sadie told him what the note said.

“Queen of Clean, huh? That is weird. So the person got to your van at the mall and also knows where you live. I don’t like the sound of it. Either they know your schedule or they’re following you. You piss anyone off lately?”

“Only a big ugly dude in green boxers.”

“Say the word and I’ll send a cruiser to his house.”

“You’ve already done that. I’m talking about the ghost at Sunnyside Avenue.”

“Oh. Anyone alive you piss off lately?”

“I don’t think it’s a big deal, Dean. I mean, c’mon. Queen of Clean?” She giggled. “Someone’s got a sick sense of humor but I don’t find that scary.”

“You’re probably right but keep an eye out anyway,” he told her gruffly. “Oh, and by the way, I’ve got a call into PBF about you finding that blood in the office at the school.”

“I’m heading back over to the school this morning,” Sadie told him.

“I expect you’ll hear from him,” he warned.

Sadie was dreading going back to the school because she knew eventually she’d have to deal with Virgil Lalty. She restocked the Scene-2-Clean van and double- and triple-checked inventory, even though she knew damn well she had enough supplies to clean a half dozen more jobs. After last night’s note, she’d checked out the garage while the threesome smudged and cleansed the inside of the house. Nobody had gone through her supplies last night and they looked fine now too.

Back inside the house, she scrubbed down her bathroom and then cleaned Hairy’s litter box. Next she dressed and poured herself a second cup of coffee, taking it over to her kitchen table to drink.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sadie told Hairy, who had plopped his fluffy-tailed butt down on the floor in front of her. “I know you’re used to having the house to yourself during the day, but you’ll have to put up with me for a few more minutes. I’m not ready to go yet.” When Hairy still sat looking up at her, she sighed. “Do you think I should let Zack come home?”

Hairy only twitched his nose in reply. He was a good listener but not big on advice. She added some carrots and broccoli to his kibble on her way out the door. Once she was behind the wheel of her van, she dialed Maeva.

“The Thingvolds and Louise did a great job. Thanks.”

“I knew they would,” Maeva said. “They got a knack for creating strong circles of protection.”

“Petrovich is extremely grateful,” Sadie told her friend.

“Good to hear,” Maeva said. “But that’s not why you called.”

“Sometimes having a psychic for a friend sucks,” Sadie remarked.

“It doesn’t take any great medium abilities to hear the sadness in your voice. You heard from Zack?”

“Yeah, he called.”

“And?”

“And he wants to come home.”

“Oh!” She seemed to give that some thought. “But you’re not sure if you want him back.”

“Wow, you are psychic.”

Maeva chuckled. “Yeah, that’s what the clientele of Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café keep telling me.” She blew out a slow breath. “You don’t have to give him an answer right away, or you can tell him he needs to work on his issues before he asks you formally for forgiveness.”

“I found more pill bottles in the house. He started back on the drugs before he was hurt and needed pain meds. I told him he needs to get help.”

“That’s good,” Maeva said. “He needs to work on his issues.”

“ ‘Work on his issues.’ I like that. Puts the ball back in his court without making me feel like I abandoned him just when the going got tough.”

“He abandoned you, remember?”

Sadie steered her van toward Capitol Hill. “Remember what they say, though: for better or worse, in sickness and in health.”

“But you’re not married, so it doesn’t apply.”

“But he asked me to marry him last month, right? So if I’d said yes and then didn’t take him back the first time he screwed up, the first tough hurdle we experienced, what would that say about me?”

“It would say you value yourself too much to deal with a cheating drug addict, and he should be prepared to crawl on his knees through broken glass to make up for all the shit he’s put you through.” She sighed. “Sadie, even if he gets it right, even if he gets help and comes back with his tail between his legs, there’s no guarantee all this crap won’t happen again. You got to decide what’s right for you, and you sure as hell don’t need to decide that today just because he’s ready to get off Paula’s couch and come back home.”

“You think he’s really on her couch and not in her bed?”

“Of course.”

“You’re a good friend.”

“And as a good friend I’m going to ask you again about your dad, and this time I don’t want you to blow me off with excuses.”

Sadie stopped at a red light and drummed her fingers on her steering wheel. “Okay, well, what does it mean that he doesn’t appear fully to me?”

“How does he appear?”

“His entire physical form hasn’t appeared to me since that very first time. I only seem to get part of his body showing up at a time.”

“Hmmm.”

Sadie could visualize Maeva tapping her chin with a pen, a habit she picked up on her most recent attempt to quit smoking.

“He may just move on without you, Sadie. Maybe he really has no issues keeping him here.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s what worries me the most.” Sadie sighed. “I was hoping for a little longer.”

“I know you were.” Maeva’s voice grew soft but also serious. “And that’s why you are probably what’s keeping him here. You keep drawing him back. Remember when Pam—”

But Sadie didn’t want to talk about her friend Pam and she wasn’t ready to deal with her dad either. “I gotta go. I’m on my way to a job.”

“Be safe,” Maeva said, her voice sounding like a warning. “I’ve been getting some weird vibes about you lately.”

“Weird pretty much surrounds me these days,” Sadie said.

“It must, because my mind keeps coming up with the phrase ‘virgin laughing.’ ”

“Laughing virgin?” Sadie laughed herself now and it felt good and soothing.

“Not ‘laughing virgin’ but ‘virgin laughing,’ ” Maeva said, sounding a little embarrassed. “And I’m not kidding.”

“Virgin laughing,” Sadie repeated, and a small smile broke into a wide grin as she exclaimed, “Virgil Lalty!”

“What?”

“Are you sure the phrase isn’t the name Virgil Lalty? Because he’s the ghost at the job I’m working lately.”

“Oh, my God, that’s it!” Maeva sounded immensely relieved. “My wires have been so crossed lately. Thanks for making me feel like I haven’t gone totally crazy.”

“And thanks for the laugh,” Sadie said. “Anything in particular you needed to tell me about Mr. Lalty?”

“Just that he is someone you need to help move on.”

After the call ended, Sadie turned up the radio and sang along to keep her mind off Zack and Maeva’s weird vibes. When she reached the parking lot of Ocean View School, she was thinking about the conversation she’d have with Virgil Lalty and hoping it would settle things at this place once and for all. Then she saw the Seattle PD unmarked car parked near the front entrance of the school and realized she’d be dealing with other stuff first.

She got out of her vehicle and saw the detective immediately open his own door. Sadie took in his near six foot slim frame and blond, almost boyish looks with surprise. The Pretty Boy description was bang on. Making detective would’ve been a tough haul for someone who had the Greek god chiseled features of this guy.

She met him at the vestibule at the front doors and pulled out the keys with her left hand while offering him her right.

“Hi. Sadie Novak,” she said. “You must be Detective Grayson.”

“Yeah.” His handshake was all business with fingers that were rough and calloused and in no way reflected his pretty-boy face.

“I was surprised to get a call from Petrovich saying you think we missed something here.” His voice was even but his green eyes were angry bullets.

“Hey, no accusations here,” Sadie said, holding up her hands in a stopping motion. “All I know is I dropped my phone in the principal’s office and it came away with a dot of blood on it.”

“Right.” His look said, Everyone thinks they’re a detective .

“Why don’t we just go inside, and you can do your job and I’ll do mine,” Sadie suggested, not in the mood to defend herself or her abilities.

Once inside the school, Sadie opened the office door, and the detective stepped hurriedly past her into the principal’s office.

“I was told the scene was confined to the two rooms in back—the early years arts center and the janitor’s supply closet—and the hall between.” She waved her hand to encompass the office. “This office area was offered to me as a safe zone to don and doff gear. I was working at the desk when I dropped my phone here.” Sadie bent and pointed to an area behind the desk.

“And you’re sure it had blood on it.”

“I may not know everything about police work,” Sadie said in a biting tone, “but you can bet your ass I know friggin’ blood when I see it, Detective. It’s kind of my life’s work.”

He nodded, conceding that point, and then got down on his hands and knees, squinting beneath the desk and touching the carpet there.

“Pull back the baseboard,” Sadie said. “I doubt the room’s been painted, and if any blood got behind there, it’ll still be there.”

PBF rolled his eyes. “You don’t have the market cornered on uncovering blood spatter. I’ve done this a couple times myself. For there to be the amount of blood you’re thinking, this would’ve had to be a major scene. You saw how much was in the art room. How much blood do you think this guy had in him?”

Sadie didn’t reply. PBF frowned and lifted the cover off a floor vent under the desk. With the cover gone, the raw edges of the carpet and underlay were visible. Angling a halogen lamp that he took from the desk toward the vent, the detective lifted the edge of the carpet and peered underneath.

“Huh. Guess that’s another way to do it,” Sadie muttered.

“Nothing,” he said, and then he looked over his shoulder at Sadie. “You want to check for yourself or will you take my word for it?”

Sadie knew the question was meant to be rhetorical but she was down on the floor next to him in a heartbeat. She took the lamp from his hand and looked under the tented carpeting herself. He was right. There was no sign of blood.

“It was probably just a small amount of trace.”

“Sure. You do know that Ms. Tu was the one who discovered the body, right?”

“Oh.” Suddenly Sadie knew where he was going with the comment. “You think it was transfer.”

“Sure.”

“She saw the body and ran to her office to make the call.”

He replaced the vent cover and then got to his feet. They stood less than a foot apart.

“So she brought blood in here on her shoes or something, right?” Sadie repositioned the lamp on the desk. “How was the body discovered? Was the principal questioned?”

“Hey, I don’t know what your usual relationship with SPD is like outside of some kind of friendship with Petrovich and something else altogether with Zack Bowman, but I don’t talk about my cases outside of the blue. Sorry.”

Sadie felt the need to defend Petrovich, who’d obviously stuck his neck out to get PBF out to this scene on her whim. “Petrovich is a good detective. We’ve worked together enough that I know he’s damn good at what he does and he knows I’m good at what I do. I never, ever interfere in an investigation.” Well, hardly ever. She pointed a finger in his face. “And my relationship or lack thereof with Zack Bowman is none of your business.” She nodded to the room. “Frankly, I don’t even care if you share with me details of how the body was discovered. I was only trying to make your job easier.”

“Yeah. Right. You thought you’d uncovered what? A second crime scene, Sadie Sleuth? Why don’t you leave the detecting to the detectives, and we’ll leave mopping up afterward to you.”

He turned to leave and Sadie was hot on his heels. They walked through the front doors of the school, and the double doors swung shut behind them. She watched him storm off to his car and followed close behind.

“Sorry for wasting your time!” she shouted at his back. “Don’t worry; it won’t happen again.”

He stopped short and Sadie nearly slammed into him. When Detective Grayson whirled to face her, they were inches apart.

“Look, I’m not insulting what you do. It’s a dirty, stinking job but, as they say, somebody’s gotta do it, right? And better you than me.” His green eyes softened enough so that she could see the more human and less cop side of him.

“Don’t worry,” Sadie mumbled. “I’ll just keep on doing my job. You won’t hear from me again.”

He opened his mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it.

“What?” Sadie demanded.

“It’s just that hanging around with a chick like you is bad for a cop’s reputation.” He shrugged. “Sorry, but that’s how it is.”

When he reached for the door handle, Sadie put a hand on his car door to stop him from opening it.

“What the hell does that mean? A chick like me?”

He threw up his hands and huffed like he really did not want to be having this conversation but Sadie wasn’t about to let it go.

“Tell me,” she insisted.

“The guys just talk about you and your, um, spooky ways.” He chuckled softly but there was no laughter in his voice. “They say you do a great job mopping blood ’n’ guts but you, um . . .”

“What?” Sadie shouted.

“That you sold your soul to the devil to talk to the dead.” He smiled sheepishly and actually blushed.

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Sadie said, and guffawed loudly to cover her hurt.

She tried to conceal the embarrassment that she knew was written plainly across her face by turning and walking away. It was the detective’s turn to follow.

“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he called. “I probably shouldn’t even have brought it up. You know how rumors get started.”

Sadie strode angrily to her Scene-2-Clean van and was fumbling with the lock to the large van when he reached her.

Snagging her by the arm, he turned her around. “Oh, hey, don’t cry.”

Sadie angrily rubbed damp tears from her cheeks with her palms. “I’m fine.”

He reached out and lifted her chin with a tip of a finger. “We’ve all got our own shit to deal with. I know that,” he said softly. “I had no right to say what I did.”

She brushed his hand away from her face and sniffed loudly.

“I’m fine.” Sadie nodded to her vehicle. “I’ve got to get my supplies if I’m going to finish cleaning in there.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “You know, you can call me if you need to or, hell, even if you just want to, okay?” he stammered.

Sadie raised her eyebrows in amusement at the big bad detective thrown off so easily by a few female tears.

“For the job, right?” She chuckled, enjoying his momentary discomfort and wanting to tease him now. “Or are you wanting to take me out on a date?” It was a joke but when he blushed crimson from the collar of his shirt to his blond hairline, it was Sadie’s turn to feel uncomfortable.

“Bowman and I go way back,” he said, clearing his throat loudly. “I don’t cross those kinds of boundaries.” He took a couple steps backward, looking like he could not wait to get the hell out of there. “But, hey, if Bowman’s ever out of the picture, I am so there.”

He winked at her and Sadie blushed deep red. He was gone before she could do anything but stare after him and slowly shake her head.

Once his car had left the parking lot, Sadie snagged a couple of empty medical waste bins from the back of the van as well as a new hazmat suit and other cleaning supplies. She carried a couple loads inside the school. She was determined to get the majority of the job done today, no matter how long it took. She donned her gear, still using the principal’s office as her safe zone, and then walked to the end of the hall. She was immediately relieved to find that the ghost of Virgil Lalty wasn’t hanging about.

Nose to the grindstone, Sadie told herself. She was getting the distinct impression that if anything else could go wrong on this job, it would.

16

Soon she was doubled over at the task at hand. She scraped away the dried tissue that had been softened by her chemical emulsifiers. She sponged off and dabbed at blood spatter and swept up maggots. Her eyes focused on each area of the job intently, and she did her best not to think of anything else. Sadie was used to shutting down her emotional side when she worked a scene. You couldn’t clean up bodily fluids and be thinking of the people involved. It was strictly a mess that needed cleaning.

She was in the zone and worked the scene section by section, hour after hour without a break. She blocked all the personal thoughts that crept inside her head. Like how her dad may be floating in limbo land because of her. Also, the fact that if Zack had been working the job alongside Sadie as usual, they would’ve been finished by now. They would’ve probably celebrated a job well done with pizza and beer and then maybe picked up a video and snuggled on the couch.

The thought hurt and she squeezed her eyes shut to the visual of resting her head on Zack’s shoulder. When she reopened her eyes Virgil Lalty was standing in front of her. He had the same bewildered expression on his face that he’d had the day before.

Sadie had reached the final stage of cleaning. The art center area was complete, and she’d just finished the janitor’s closet area and was preparing to carry out medical waste bins filled with contaminated materials. She no longer required a full respirator at this stage, and that made it easier for her to talk.

“Virgil Lalty, I presume,” Sadie said, straightening to face him. No time like the present to deal with the ghost.

He started and looked around as if the name could’ve referred to anyone but him.

“Yes, I’m talking to you,” Sadie said, her lips curling up into a small smile. “Let’s start with the basics and get this ball rolling. Yes, you’re dead. Dead as a doornail, so to speak. I, Sadie Novak, in addition to running a trauma clean company that cleans up the remains of victims like yourself, can also see and talk to the spirits of the dead. Depending on how you look at it, that can be a blessing or a curse. So you can tell me whatever you want to tell me and I, in turn, will try to help you move on to the next dimension because you, sir, appear to be stuck here when you should’ve moved now.”

“No shit,” he mumbled.

“None whatsoever,” Sadie remarked. “I’m going to take a couple minutes to bring all these bins out to my safe zone.” She nodded. “End of the hall there.” She waggled a finger at him. “In the meantime, you can just stay here and think about whatever it is that might be holding you back. The name of your murderer? A message for a loved one? A feeling of guilt about crimes you’ve committed on young children? Whatever.”

He opened his mouth to speak, and the sliced wound on his neck flapped with the movement. Sadie held up a finger. “Wait until I get back.”

She made three trips to the end of the hall with the bins, and when she’d completed that part of the job, she took a deep breath, sighed, and went back to face the not-so-dearly-departed Virgil Lalty and his flapping skin.

“I didn’t do it,” Virgil announced the minute she entered the janitor’s closet.

“Didn’t do what?” Sadie asked.

“I didn’t do nuthin’ to the kids of Ocean View. The kids here like me. They trust me.”

“That’s what makes the ugly things you did even more disturbing,” Sadie said, anger coloring her face.

“I took pictures of ’em,” he admitted.

“And got off on it.”

“No, I just needed the money. My grandson goes to this school. He’s smart as a whip, and I wanted to give him the advantage of a school like this. I get an employee discount but, hell, even at half the price I couldn’t afford the tuition on a salary like mine.”

“So you sold pictures to kiddie porn sites?” Sadie spat with disgust.

“Well, in truth I didn’t know they were sicko sites like that. The kids were all dressed in what seemed like just regular pictures. What they called ‘candid school yard shots.’ ” He sighed. “How was I to know the pedophiles get off on those kinds of pictures?” he asked indignantly.

“But you did know, or at least you suspected because why else would you get a shitload of money for candid school yard photos of kids?”

He nodded, conceding that point. “It was wrong of me. One of the third-grader’s dads, well, he ain’t perfect either because he saw his son’s picture on the site.”

“And he killed you.”

“Yup. But here’s a question for you: What the hell was he doing on that site in the first place?”

Sadie nodded slowly. “Fine. Got the name of your killer? I’ll pass it along to the authorities and let them figure things out.”

“Murray Thompson.”

She looked over at Virgil Lalty, who looked positively miserable. He sounded convincing, and Sadie realized that he was probably telling the truth.

“Can you still help me?” he asked. “Can you get me to heaven?”

Sadie had no idea if heaven was the best option for a guy like Virgil Lalty, but she also knew that particular decision was not going to be made by her.

“All I want is to be with my Lord and savior, Jesus Christ. Can you help me or not?”

Sadie sighed. “Can you think of any unfinished business you’ve got here?” she asked.

“Well, there’s my grandson,” Virgil said. “Like I said, he goes to this school.”

“You’ve got a message for your grandson? What’s his name?”

“Andy. He’s in fourth grade. A good boy. A smart boy.” He had a look of utter pride on his face. “Can you make sure he gets to stay in the school?”

“I don’t know what kind of arrangement you made with Principal Tu, but I’m sure she wouldn’t kick him out just because you’ve died and—”

“She might,” he said, looking like he didn’t trust Ms. Tu farther than he could throw her. “After the information of those pictures gets out and the other parents put pressure on her.”

“I don’t get it,” Sadie said. “Why would you want him to stay here if he’s not wanted? You’ve got to know kids can be cruel.”

“It’s a good school. If Andy finishes here, all kinds of doors will open for him down the road.” He quietly looked down at his hands, which were calloused and toughened beyond the slices from the knife. “He won’t have to mop floors for a living. He’s going to have a better life.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Sadie promised, but she had no idea how she’d convince Ms. Tu it was a good idea to keep the grandson of a suspected pedophile in the school.

“Is that it?” Sadie asked. “Do you feel ready to go? To move on?”

He nodded. “Ain’t nothing here for me anymore.” He hesitated. “Those pictures I took, well, you need to know that if they were used for anything bad, that didn’t come from me.” He pointed a finger in Sadie’s face. “You make sure my daughter and Andy knows that too.”

Sadie wanted to argue that the pictures couldn’t be used for bad if he’d never taken them in the first place, but she decided to let it go. She couldn’t change the past. “Okay,” Sadie agreed, but she couldn’t clear his name for him and, even if she could, it wasn’t her job. After all, as Pretty Boy Floyd had told her, she wasn’t Sadie Sleuth. She wasn’t Super Sadie off to save the world.

“I want you to close your eyes and think about anyone in your family who has gone before you. Your wife, perhaps?” Sadie gently suggested.

“Edna’s there. I can see her.” His voice was quiet with wonder. “She’s surrounded by white light. It’s beautiful.”

“Can you hear her voice calling to you? Relax and feel her arms reaching for you. Allow her to pull you over.”

“I’m coming, Edna,” he said. “I’m coming home to Jesus.”

Sadie watched as the image of Virgil Lalty began to shimmer around the edges and then slowly dissipate. The minute the shimmer started, Sadie knew he was leaving for good. Once his image was totally gone, Sadie felt the rush of adrenaline that always followed when she helped a spirit go over. It slammed into her, a powerful surge that made her higher than Vicodin ever could.

Quick behind her euphoric feeling came the guilt for not helping her own dad.

“Soon,” she told herself. “Soon it’ll be Dad’s turn. Not yet, but soon.”

Sadie loaded the medical waste bins into her van and drove down the 405 in the direction of Scene-2-Clean’s warehouse. The rubberized waste containers filled with contaminated materials from her various jobs were stored in a secured warehouse. Periodically a waste company showed up to take the bins and their putrid contents to put them through sterilization and disposal.

The drive to the warehouse was slow going. Traffic was snarled due to a prior fender bender, and Sadie impatiently flipped from station to station on the radio. Everyone wanted to sing about love or lost love, and every song cut too deep to offer any kind of distraction, so she made a few phone calls.

Dawn was chipper and invited Sadie to a late lunch at her house during Dylan’s nap time. Sadie agreed but almost instantly regretted that decision. She didn’t feel like having Dawn’s sympathetic looks regarding Zack. She didn’t want to hear about how she could win back her man, and there was no doubt that was how Dawn would play this up. Especially once she heard Zack had asked to come home. Dawn was a list maker. Sadie imagined her sister would already have a list of all the steps Sadie needed to take to improve her life, get her man, and solve world hunger.

The idea of that kind of list actually caused Sadie to smile to herself as she gunned the accelerator to take advantage of a break in a faster lane of traffic. Maybe lists were exactly what she needed to improve her life. First thing on that list would be to start drinking heavily after work each day.

She laughed at herself but then caught her own pained reflection in her rearview mirror. Number two on that list should be to do something—anything—to take away that pitiful hangdog expression from her eyes.

Her cell phone rang and she frowned at the incoming number. She said, “Hello?”

“I think I owe you an apology,” said Pretty Boy Floyd.

“I’ll take yours and offer one myself,” Sadie said in reply. “I should’ve realized it was most likely transfer and no big deal.”

“And I should be more grateful that there are people like you in the world willing to work with the police.”

“I guess we’ve exchanged mutual ‘I’m sorries’ and now all can be right with the world.” Sadie smiled as she said it and checked her reflection in the mirror. It was a genuine smile and not forced. The hangdog look evaporated for a few seconds.

“Before you know it, we’ll be opening our own mutual admiration society,” Floyd quipped.

“Absolutely. Next thing you know we’ll be going to lunch like old pals,” Sadie joked back, and was answered by silence.

Then Floyd replied slowly, “That’s not such a bad idea, you know. What are you doing for lunch today? We both have to eat. Can I buy you a sandwich and a beer?”

“That would be great,” Sadie said, quickly realizing she’d be blowing off her sister but not caring. Anyway, she did have to figure a way to tell Floyd about Murray Thompson being Virgil Lalty’s killer.

“There’s a great deli in Fremont.”

“Roxy’s? It’s awesome. I’m just on my way to my warehouse to do a waste drop but I could make it there for, say, one thirty?”

“One thirty it is. See you then.”

Sadie caught her reflection again and there was no guilt riding in her eyes, only a look of excitement that had been missing for a while. She quickly dialed Dawn and made an excuse about having to work. Then she flipped the radio back on and sang along happily to Katrina and the Waves’ “Walking on Sunshine.” Lunch with a good-looking guy might just be what the doctor ordered. Of course she wished it was Zack. The old Zack. Zack who’d given up pills and rocked her world. She let out a painful sigh.

When she reached the warehouse, a slight drizzle was falling but it did little to dampen her mood. Sadie backed the van up to the entrance and then opened the facility’s roll-up doors. First she unloaded all the rubber bins from the back of her vehicle, and then she locked up her van and rolled the big warehouse door back down. She entered the facility through the regular door to the left. She’d spend a few minutes sorting the bins into stacks to make them easier for pickup, and then she would double-check her inventory to make sure she wasn’t running low on any items that might come in handy should Seattle experience a sudden influx of dead.

Her phone rang as she was hefting a bin. She saw it was Zack and debated letting it go to voice mail but decided to take the call.

“I’m at the warehouse and I’m kind of busy,” she answered. She huffed and puffed a little as she hoisted the last big load.

“I could come and help you with that,” he said. “You know I never like you lifting all those heavy bins and—”

“It’s okay. You should look after yourself. I’m fine.”

“Well, I just wanted to ask if you wanted me to feed Hairy or if he’s already been fed.”

Sadie straightened. “You’re at the house?”

“Well, yeah. I got back about an hour ago.”

His voice was dulled. The letters ran together like proper enunciation was too much effort. How long had he sounded that way? She felt hurt and angry that he’d been sneaking pills on the sly.

“Zack, I never said you could move back,” Sadie said softly. “As a matter of fact, I said I needed to think about it because you need to get yourself well first.”

Zack didn’t reply. Sadie walked to the back of the warehouse to check stock on the pallets in the back.

She dropped a particularly heavy bin, and the sound seemed to trigger an echo or a louder sound at the front of the warehouse. Sadie turned in direction of the sound but was distracted by Zack talking hurriedly into her ear.

“We can work this out if we’re together,” he told her.

“It’s going to be real hard to fix things between us if we’re apart.”

“I’d probably agree with you if you hadn’t been lying to me and sneaking pills behind my back!” she said heatedly. “Plus you were the one who left me, remember? You. Left. Me! I didn’t kick your ass out, even though you obviously needed a kick in the ass.” She coughed a little. “You left and didn’t even give me a chance. You packed up your clothes and went to stay with your old girlfriend.” She coughed again. “How do you think that makes me feel?” She coughed harder this time.

“Are you okay?” Zack asked.

Sadie ignored his concern, and through bouts of coughing she shouted into the phone, “No, I’m not okay! You left me for your ex-girlfriend!” She let out a wracking cough.

“Sadie?”

Sadie softened her tone a little. “Look, you gotta get help. I can’t do that for you.” Cough, cough. “But I can drive you where you need to go and do what I can. You and I . . . well, we can’t even pretend to be a happy couple together without you being well. The rehab process worked for you before. Say the word and I’ll make the arrangements to take you back to that place.”

“It’s not that bad,” Zack protested, his throat clogged with emotion. “I can get a handle on it and make this right.”

Sadie wanted to say more, but she was doubled over now and her eyes were stinging. It was then that she realized the warehouse was filling with thick black smoke.

“What the hell?”

She frantically ran to the door but a line of flames greeted her at the entrance.

“Oh, crap,” she muttered.

She could hear Zack shouting into the phone that was in her hand.

“I gotta go. I’ve got a fire situation,” she said into the receiver, and then snapped her flip phone shut and proceeded to look for something, anything, to put out the fire.

She realized the line of chemicals on a nearby pallet would light up the place like the fourth of July. Her movements became frantic as she ran for a pallet of tarps, roll-out cloth covers, and carpeting they sometimes used at scenes. If she could just smother the flames . . . Sadie reached the bundle and tore at the binding with her fingers. She dragged a heavy bundle toward the fire. With a mighty heave she flung the roll of carpet at the fire and hit the flames dead-on. She went to work stomping the carpeting into the fire, but even as the rug began to effectively put out the flames, she was hit by the toxic smell of the rubber backing on the carpet melting into a noxious black cloud. Sadie’s lungs burned with the need for clean air, and she tried to make her way to the door. But before she could reach for the button to roll up the door, her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed in a heap on the hard concrete surface.

17

Sadie clawed at a hand trying to cover her face, even though a familiar voice was cooing words of comfort into her ear. She blinked her eyes open to a paramedic valiantly trying to press an oxygen mask to her face. Zack was there, kneeling next to her. He was speaking but Sadie couldn’t connect his words inside her muddled head. Still, Sadie felt such immediate relief when she saw him, it brought tears to her eyes.

She pushed the oxygen away.

“I’m okay,” she told the paramedic, but her voice came out cracked and raw.

“You’ve got smoke inhalation. We’re taking you to the hospital,” he told her firmly.

“Give me a second,” Sadie told him, sitting up and coughing but holding up a hand to block the mask. To Zack she said, “I guess it was a good thing I was on the phone with you. Thanks for calling it in.”

“You could’ve been killed,” he said, and he shifted his weight onto his good leg as he picked up her hand and pressed it to his mouth. “God, Sadie, that was close. Too close. What the hell’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Spontaneous combustion?” she asked, trying to think about it. “I always said we should keep the cleaning chemicals at a separate location.”

“It wasn’t the cleaning supplies. Someone tossed a Molotov cocktail inside the warehouse and then jammed the door so you couldn’t get out.”

“What?” But it was the last word to leave her lips before the oxygen mask was pressed over her mouth and nose, and she gave in to the wooziness in her head and closed her eyes.

It took a few hours but she finally got the okay to leave the hospital. Sadie dressed, got her personal belongings from the nurse, and headed out. She’d already arranged for a ride. Zack was the first person she saw when she stepped into the waiting room. He was sitting in one of the plastic chairs with his cell phone pressed to his ear. When he saw Sadie he immediately got to his feet and hobbled over.

“I thought they were going to keep you overnight,” he said.

“No. I’m fine. I thought you left.” She didn’t slow down in her walk toward the exit, and he had to practically drag his cast behind him to keep up.

Sadie pulled out her own cell phone and spoke quickly into the receiver. “I’m on my way out now,” she said, and then clicked the phone off.

Zack was talking fast and had an almost giddy undertone to his voice. “When we get home I’m going to order your favorite kung pao chicken from Wong’s while you soak in a bubble bath with a stiff drink.”

She winced because she knew she had to rip the bandage off quickly.

“You can’t stay at the house, Zack,” she said. “Not unless you agree to do something about your pill problem.”

“I keep telling you I’ll stop taking the pills as soon as my ankle’s healed.”

Zack reached to touch her cheek where a spark had caused an angry red blister on her face. Sadie pushed his hand away.

“Sorry. That’s not good enough.”

They were outside now, and Sadie stopped short and looked toward the parking lot. Within seconds a red Ford F-150 pickup pulled up to the curb. Detective Grayson hopped out and quickly came around to open the passenger door.

“Zack,” the detective said, offering him a curt nod.

“Floyd,” Zack replied, mimicking the same abrupt nod. Then to Sadie: “You asked him to drive you home?” Zack demanded, hooking a thumb in the direction of Floyd.

“Not home. Back to the warehouse to get the van,” Sadie remarked. “We were supposed to meet after I left the warehouse to go over a job I was working. Now we can discuss the job as he drives me.”

“Two birds with one stone and all that,” Floyd said to Zack as he opened the passenger door for Sadie. “You understand.”

Zack looked furiously from Sadie to Floyd. With a sigh Sadie stepped toward Zack and whispered in his ear.

“I’m sorry but this doesn’t change anything. Thank you for rescuing me. You’ve developed a habit of doing that but now, well, you’ve got to rescue yourself. You still have issues to work out, and until then, I don’t want you in my house. When I get back in an hour, I don’t want you there.”

Tough love. Sadie’s stomach knotted in pain and the hurt in Zack’s eyes crushed her, but she didn’t let him see that. Instead, she turned to Floyd and said, “Thanks for coming.” And she stepped forward and hopped into his truck.

Floyd slammed Sadie’s door shut, and once he was back behind the wheel Sadie offered him an embarrassed look,

“I am so sorry to put you in that position,” she said. “I thought he’d already left the hospital. I told him not to wait.”

“No problem.” He turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the curb. “Sorry to hear about what happened at your warehouse, but I gotta admit I’m just glad you’ve got a real good reason for standing me up. I waited at Roxy’s for over an hour without eating. It just about killed me.” He chuckled lightly and reached over to pat her leg. His hand remained on her thigh a moment longer than necessary.

They drove back to the warehouse mostly in silence with Sadie speaking only to provide directions. When they were a few blocks from the facilities, Floyd interrupted Sadie’s thoughts.

“So-o-o,” he began. “You going to tell me what’s up with you and Bowman? I thought you two were, like, a sure thing but now I’m guessing that’s not the case.”

“It’s complicated,” Sadie said quickly, but then realized she owed him something as an explanation. “I guess you could say we broke up.” She smiled drily at that. “That sounds awfully high school for two people in their thirties, but I don’t know how else to say it.”

“Breaking up is the same no matter what the age,” Floyd said sagely. After a moment’s pause he added, “You should know that Bowman is gonna see this little drive as more than a slight betrayal. On account of our past, he figures I owe him. And he’s probably right.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“His partner? The one he took the bullet for a few years back?”

“Yeah?”

“That was me.”

Oh, no! Sadie inwardly cringed.

“And I was the one Zack called to drive him to the recovery center after he’d traded his job and life for booze and pills.”

“I’ve put you in a lousy position,” she said. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s just a ride,” Floyd said, and shrugged. “He’s using again, isn’t he?”

Sadie just nodded.

“I can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice,” Floyd said. “That’s a real shame. How long?”

But Sadie couldn’t answer that question and was grateful she didn’t have to try. They were in front of Sadie’s burned-out warehouse now, and Floyd pulled around all the investigative fire team vehicles and managed to park his truck alongside the Scene-2-Clean van. They got out of Floyd’s truck and walked over to the van.

“I don’t think you’re going to be going anywhere in that van of yours, though.” The detective nodded toward Sadie’s company vehicle. It was where she’d left it, parked right outside the roll-up doors of her warehouse. It had obviously suffered from being too close to the fire, or else the same accelerant had been poured along one side, which had melted from the heat. The rear tire was melted goo and the back fender was warped.

“Shit,” Sadie moaned. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”

Floyd and Sadie spent a few minutes discussing the situation with the fire investigation team, who told Sadie the vehicle wasn’t drivable and also needed for evidence.

“Well, this isn’t so bad after all,” Floyd said, walking Sadie back to his truck.

“It isn’t?” Sadie asked, thinking her life was about as bad as it could get.

“Nope, because here I was trying to figure out how to tactfully remind you that you weren’t getting out of our lunch date just with a simple case of smoke inhalation.” Humor creased the corners of his green eyes. “I’m hungry and, the way I see it, I might as well feed you since you’ve got nothing better to do anyway.”

“Nothing to do, huh?” Sadie laughed at the absurdity of his remark. “I have to call the insurance company, for the warehouse and for my van.” She glanced down at herself. “Not to mention the fact that what I’m wearing is a little charred as well as smoky.”

“So what? All of that can wait. Food is more important.”

As if to illustrate his point, Floyd’s stomach growled noisily.

Sadie burst out laughing. “Fine. Let’s go grab a sandwich.”

Sadie thought her appetite was long gone, but the smell of Roxy’s fresh bread and fixings had her mouth watering before they sat in one of the small booths. Floyd got a Philly cheesesteak sandwich and Sadie had a turkey club. Around mouthfuls of food they talked about casual things like the upcoming ’Hawks season and how they were going to show no mercy toward the Buffalo Bills. Eventually their conversation wound its way back to Ocean View School.

“I know you can’t discuss the case, but I heard rumors Murray Thompson, who’s got a kid in the third grade, was the one who killed Virgil Lalty.”

“Rumors, huh?” Floyd sipped his Budweiser and took another bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah.”

“Well, guess it doesn’t matter. We’re already closing in on Mr. Thompson. He was one of the first people we looked at. We connected visitors to the kiddie site with parents at the school, and his name cropped up.”

“Oh.”

Floyd nodded. “Most people don’t know this but a lot of pedophiles are just as happy with viewing pictures of kids at play. Girls swinging on swings with their little dresses fluttering in the air. Little boys on the monkey bars with their shorts riding a little high. Not porn but sick just the same, and there are a ton of sites raking in viewers to see these kids and pay for their own albums. Sickos are sending them close-ups of the innocent kids next door, and the seller rakes in dough while the perverts fantasize about destroying that innocence.”

Sadie shuddered. Floyd seemed to sense her discomfort and smoothly directed their conversation back to the Seahawks. They had cleaned every crumb from their overloaded plates and finished off their beers when Sadie realized she should be getting back home.

They continued their casual conversation in Floyd’s truck. It turned out the Seahawks were not the only interest they had in common. Floyd was a jogger who put in a dozen miles each week, and he also had a fondness for rabbits, since his sister’s kids had two Holland Lop bunnies as pets.

He pulled in Sadie’s driveway, and she was immensely relieved to find Zack’s Mustang wasn’t there. She sat in Floyd’s truck and their conversation continued, delving into gardening and house decorating, and Sadie was acutely conscious that she didn’t want their afternoon to end.

“Don’t suppose you’d like to come in and meet Hairy?” Sadie asked, nervously aware she was offering more than a chance to pet her rabbit.

“I’d like that,” Floyd replied, his voice was light but his eyes were dead serious.

Sadie let him in the front door, relieved she’d at least vacuumed and dusted the living room only that morning. Hairy hopped over to greet them and skidded humorously on the laminate as he tried to stop at Sadie’s feet. Sadie laughed.

“Detective Grayson, I’d like you to meet Hairy,” Sadie said formally as she scooped her rabbit up from the floor and lifted him up to Floyd. “Hairy, this is Detective Grayson. Be nice and he might be able to hook you up on a hot date with a couple of Holland Lops.”

“I’m very pleased to meet you, Hairy,” Floyd said. He took the rabbit from Sadie’s arms, stroked him gently on the back, and then placed the rabbit on the floor. When he straightened, he took a step closer to Sadie and took her hand in his. Bringing her wrist to his lips, he brushed a tender kiss on a small angry red patch that had been singed by the heat of the fire.

“I must look a mess,” Sadie said, her voice small. “I should have a shower.”

“You smell like a summer campfire,” he murmured against her forearm as he planted more kisses in a trail there. “And you’re so hot I could roast a marshmallow or two off your skin. Right here.” He leaned in and planted a warm kiss on her forearm. “And here.” He kissed a line along her collar-bone and up the side of her neck while Sadie bit her lower lip. “Oh, and definitely here.” His voice was husky with need as he kissed her ear, pulling the lobe gently into his mouth and sucking it for a second.

The smoke-tinged aroma around her was nothing compared to the inferno of need that roared inside Sadie’s belly. As she moaned softly, his lips found hers and Sadie melted her mouth against his.

It felt so good to feel something besides the pain of Zack’s betrayal and the agony of loss around her dad, but as good as Floyd’s kisses felt, she pushed him away.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Floyd replied, clearing his throat. “Timing and all that, right?”

She nodded, and he kissed her chastely on the cheek before leaving her house. Sadie shut the door and then leaned back against it, blowing out a relieved breath.

“Damn. Damn. Double damn.”

Hairy hopped over and Sadie glared down at him. “Don’t look at me like that. This is all your fault. If you weren’t so desperate to meet those Holland Lops, I wouldn’t have invited him in. No yogurt treats for you.”

Sadie took a shower, and when she stepped out she heard her phone ringing. She answered the call in her bedroom.

“Oh, good, you’re home!” was Dawn’s response to Sadie’s hello.

“I, um, had a situation at my warehouse so I had to finish up my job early,” Sadie said quickly, cringing at the almost lie. “I was just going to call you.”

“Well, it’s a little late for lunch.” Dawn chuckled and Sadie squinted at her bedside clock that glowed just after seven. “But if you’ve got nothing else planned, how about coffee and cookies? I just baked your favorite, oatmeal chocolate chip.”

It sounded like a bribe, and Sadie began to wonder why her sister was so determined that they get together. Then she realized it might be her sibling’s way of hanging on to that connection they felt saying their so-called good-bye to their dad.

“I don’t really need cookies since I haven’t jogged in a couple days,” Sadie stated, trying to snap up the top button on her jeans. “But I can always use a cup of coffee, although maybe I should make it.” She pulled a long-sleeved tee over her head. “Do you need anything? Want me to stop at the store for milk or something?”

“John’s out doing our weekly shop now,” Dawn said.

Sadie heard Dylan begin to cry, and the sound quickly reached a crescendo.

“And Dylan should be going down for the night any minute.”

“I’ll see you in about half an hour,” Sadie promised, and disconnected.

She spent a few minutes filing paperwork and realized her home office answering machine had two messages from Principal Tu. The most recent call had come in just minutes ago, while Sadie was in the shower. She’d forgotten to call Tu back with an update as she’d promised.

Quickly Sadie dialed the woman’s number. “Sorry I didn’t call you earlier,” Sadie told her when she picked up. “I had a crisis at my warehouse.”

“How is the school coming along?” Ms. Tu asked.

“Good. The drywaller and carpenter will be in touch with you. I have an air purifier still running, but we can meet tomorrow and I can go over everything with you.”

“Oh, good.” Ms. Tu sounded relieved. “The board wants to go through the school tomorrow afternoon, so it’ll be perfect timing if you and I can meet earlier.”

They arranged to meet at the school in the morning, and Sadie left her house to go to Dawn’s place.

18

When Sadie arrived at her sister’s house, the first thing she spotted was her mom’s car in the driveway. Sadie scowled angrily at the car. She didn’t like being ambushed. Then she thought maybe she should give Dawn the benefit of the doubt. It could be that Mom just popped in for an unexpected visit.

“Screw that idea,” Sadie mumbled to herself. Her mother had never popped in unexpectedly anywhere ever. She was a big believer in calling ahead. With both trepidation and resignation in her step, Sadie walked to the front of the house and rapped softly on the door.

“Hey, you made it!” Dawn exclaimed in an excited whisper.

“Dylan’s asleep?” Sadie asked.

“Yes, finally,” Dawn replied.

“Too bad, because I’d like to scream at you for inviting Mom over without telling me.”

“Mom, look who’s here,” Dawn called quietly over her shoulder, pulling Sadie roughly inside. “It’s Sadie.”

“So she didn’t know either?” Sadie asked. “Great. Just great. What’s this all about?”

“I’ll get your coffee,” Dawn said, ushering her into the living room. “Have a seat.”

Sadie sat down in a chair across from her mother. Mom sat on the sofa, looking at the ceiling, and then at the TV in the corner, and finally at her hands folded in her lap. Anywhere but at Sadie.

Dawn returned with cups of coffee for Sadie and their mother.

“Isn’t this nice?” Dawn grinned. “We need to start doing this more often.”

Sadie sipped her coffee, and then, because Dawn made horrible coffee, she reached for one of the cookies on the coffee table in front of her and used it to mask the flavor.

“I’m going to buy you a new coffeemaker for your next birthday,” Sadie remarked.

“John just bought one,” Dawn replied.

“Then I’ll buy you new coffee,” Mom piped up.

“Why? What’s wrong with the coffee?” Dawn stared down at her own cup.

“It’s awful,” Sadie and Mom said simultaneously.

“Well, look at the two of you agreeing on something already,” Dawn giggled.

Sadie said, “Seriously, Dawn, you can’t call yourself a Seattleite and make coffee that tastes this bad. You’re a disgrace to the city. If you want to make coffee like this, you have to move to, like, Ohio or something.”

“I’ve had coffee in Ohio,” Mom said. “It wasn’t this bad.”

“Okay, I get it.” Dawn held up her hand. “Let’s get off the topic of coffee and talk about, um, other stuff.”

Sadie narrowed her eyes and regarded her sister coolly. “What other stuff?”

“Stuff like your, um, talent for talking to spirits,” Dawn said with forced cheeriness.

“Oh, Lord,” Mom muttered. She took a large gulp of the bad coffee, winced, and then put her mug down. “Let’s not talk about it. Let’s just forget about it or ignore it. I’m fine either way.”

“I’m good with that too,” Sadie said.

“Look,” Dawn said forcefully. “We’re going to talk about it like mature and responsible adults and that’s final.”

“Why?” Mom and Sadie asked together.

“Because it’s not good to have secrets in the family, and it’s not good that we can’t be in the same room together without feeling uncomfortable. I don’t want Dylan growing up in a dysfunctional family.”

“Sorry, Sis, but that ship has sailed. We are already dysfunctional.”

“You know what the problem is with your generation?” Mom asked. “You all think you have to fix everything, and that everyone has to be politically correct and have good relationships. When I was growing up, if something wasn’t right you just ignored it and pretended it was all right. Like Uncle Glen. Yes, he talked to himself and ended up in the loony bin, but pretending everything was okeydokey was what got Aunt Lynn through the day!”

“Bad example, Mom,” Sadie mumbled around a mouthful of cookie.

“I don’t know why you have to flaunt this thing of yours,” Mom said heatedly. “If you have to go off into woo-woo land and be a psychic, do you have to bring the rest of us along with you?”

“Woo-woo land?” Sadie burst out laughing, and then shook her head slowly. “Know what? I don’t need this shit.”

She got to her feet and headed for the door. Quickly slipping her feet into her Nikes, she waved to Dawn but her sister was already chasing after her, begging her to stay.

“Please. Let’s just talk it out.”

“It was a nice attempt, but our family isn’t ready to be functional.” Sadie dug out her keys and opened the door. She heard her nephew mewing softly through the baby monitor and nodded inside the house. “Dylan’s crying.”

Sadie slammed the door behind her and cursed all the way to her car. When she started up her Honda, she punched the accelerator and swiped angry tears from her eyes.

Sadie was about three blocks away from Dawn’s house when she noticed a dark SUV had been following close behind her for a while. She told herself that it didn’t mean anything and then said aloud, “Yeah, but just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean somebody isn’t really out to get you.”

She sped up a little and blew through an amber but nearly red light. The SUV did not plow through the red to stay with her. Problem solved. Except now what? She didn’t feel like going directly home. Instead, she got a real coffee at Makeda on Seventy-eighth Street. She took her latte to go and then drove around a while, trying to think of who would like to set fire to her warehouse and have her killed. If Zack was in the picture, she’d feel safe and protected. It would be easy to call him. Her hand found her cell almost of its own volition, and then, appalled, she dropped it back into her purse and continued to drive.

It was obvious to Sadie the threats were because she’d ticked someone off. It could be related to a scene she was working and, truthfully, both places were what she’d call high drama. The Ocean View School had a possible vigilante situation with the janitor. Then there was the Sunnyside Avenue house with its ugly ghost and boxes of secrets—and Paula.

Sadie’s mind kept returning to Paula. Did the slut consider Sadie a threat? Was she trying to get Sadie to stop cleaning her mom’s house? It’s not like Petrovich had told Paula that Sadie was helping with the ghost thing. Sadie frowned. But Carole might have mentioned Sadie being there. Would Paula Wicks try to kill her just so she could keep Zack to herself? The idea seemed more than extreme, considering Zack had already moved out and Sadie wasn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat to bring him back home, but maybe that was the point. Maybe it pissed Paula off even more to know that Zack didn’t want her even when he couldn’t go home to Sadie.

At a red light, Sadie looked around surprised to find herself in the neighborhood of First Hill, nicknamed Pill Hill because of the number of hospitals in the area. Sadie didn’t have to drive far to get to the one where Paula worked as a ward nurse. Sadie knew Paula often worked the late afternoon shift, which meant she might still be working right now.

Sadie steered into the hospital’s parking lot and cruised the staff designated slots for Paula’s vehicle. There was row upon row of reserved parking, but it would be easy to spot her yellow VW if it was in the lot. Then again, Zack could’ve driven her to work. The fact that he might be driving Paula places and acting the role of her boyfriend brought Sadie’s blood to a boil. She figured if she spotted Zack’s Mustang, she couldn’t be held responsible for how her keys might inadvertently damage the paint or maybe how the heavy Maglite flashlight in her trunk could crack a headlight or two. Accidents happened.

After ten minutes of winding up and down the aisles of vehicles, Sadie gave up. She was headed for the far exit when she spotted Paula’s VW dwarfed between a white Escalade and a black Navigator. Sadie pulled up directly behind Paula’s car and stopped. Now what? She drummed her fingers on her steering wheel and finally opted to leave her nemesis a note on her windshield.

Reaching into the glove box, Sadie pulled out a pad of paper and a pen and started off with, Dear Stupid Bitch. Then she crumpled up that one and started again with, This Queen of Clean doesn’t appreciate your notes and I’m going to—

She sighed and balled up that note too. Starting again she wrote simply: Paula, as a nurse, you must know that combining prescription drugs and booze will only hurt Zack. Please help him to quit instead of supporting his habit.

Sadie tapped the pen against the pad, thinking of what to say next. She wanted to tell Paula that she didn’t need to keep Zack drugged and drunk in order to keep him. If he wanted to stay with Paula, he’d stay; and if he didn’t, he wouldn’t. Somehow there just weren’t words to convey how she felt without sounding like she was saying, “You can have him now that you’ve screwed him up.” Sadie’s heart ached at the thought.

Sadie tucked the pen back in her purse, and that was when she noticed she still had the small plastic bag that Louise had given her. Well, what could it hurt, right?

Sadie hopped out of her car. She tucked the note under Paula’s wiper and checked her door handle. Open! Wow, Paula should really be more careful. Sadie opened the door and debated where to sprinkle the powder. The seat seemed the obvious choice, but it probably wouldn’t work since Paula would be clothed. On the floor of the passenger seat, she spied a canvas bag. Curious, Sadie opened it up and saw workout clothing: shorts, T-shirt, and a small towel for perspiration. Sadie sprinkled a fine mist of the dust all over the items and then dusted the mixture on the steering wheel. She locked the door when she left.

Sadie laughed to herself. The powder would probably do nothing but make Paula’s hands dirty, but it still made Sadie feel strangely powerful.

She got back into her Honda and prayed that Seattle would have a dry evening, which would keep her note intact until Paula got off shift. Sadie sipped the last of her coffee and hummed to herself as she pointed her car toward home.

She was a few blocks from her destination when she thought she spotted the same dark SUV that had followed her earlier. Squinting in her rearview mirror, she wasn’t able to make out the identity of the driver or a license plate. She reached for her cell phone. She couldn’t call Zack and she didn’t want to bother Petrovich. There was Floyd. Her hand recoiled. You couldn’t kiss a guy once and then expect him to be your caretaker. She’d have to find a way to help herself.

It was dark now and harder to keep an eye on every vehicle. Sadie decided to err on the side of caution and head somewhere public instead of going directly home to her empty house. A nearby 7-Eleven was bustling with activity. Sadie parked in the corner of the lot under a light and quick-stepped inside. She didn’t spot the SUV anywhere, but the stress had given her a powerful hunger for chocolate.

Once inside she scanned the shelves for bars to appease her craving. Maeva called when she was just trying to choose between a Snickers bar and a Butterfinger bar.

“I’ve been feeling uneasy about you all day,” Maeva admitted. “Have you been working with that angry ghost on Sunnyside Avenue?”

“No, I’ve been with Virgil Lalty and, yes, I sent him happily home to Jesus,” Sadie said. “But my warehouse had a fire today, and I was in the hospital for a couple hours, getting treated for smoke inhalation.”

“Oh, my God! Are you okay?”

“Apparently, I’m okay enough to get in a slobbery kiss with a hot detective I just met,” Sadie said drily, feeling not at all proud of the confession to her friend.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“Where are you? I need immediate details.” To the side she shouted, “Terry, I’m going to visit Sadie. I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Sadie decided to get both chocolate bars. She handed the clerk the cash and waited for change while still on the phone with Maeva.

“I don’t feel like company,” Sadie told her friend. She took the change from the cashier and grabbed her chocolate. As she walked toward the door, she told Maeva, “I’ve had a fight with my mom and my sister, and Zack asked to come back home and I told him no. Plus, I was almost killed, I poisoned Paula’s car, and I sucked face with someone other than Zack all in the same day. I probably should just go to bed and try for peace and serenity tomorrow.”

“That’s tomorrow. Today I need to hear details of your sudden fling,” Maeva said firmly. “Do you want to meet at your place or a Starbucks?”

Sadie had just stepped out the front door of the 7-Eleven and taken one step in the direction of her car when there was a loud fwump sound, and she noticed flames shooting out from under the hood of her Honda.

“Argh!” Sadie screamed.

Maeva was shouting in the receiver but Sadie wasn’t listening. Instead, she ran back inside the store and screamed at the clerk for a fire extinguisher. Then there was a whoosh sound followed by a ball of fire and an explosive crash as her Honda exploded.

“Forget the fire extinguisher,” she told the clerk. “Just call the fire department.” She stared with complete astonishment as the hood of her car came crashing down on top of a car parked two vehicles over. Once the smoke had cleared, only the blackened frame of her car remained. Small flames still sizzled along the edges. Sadie stood with her hands limply at her side. She became aware of Maeva’s voice shrieking into her cell phone and realized her friend was still on the line.

“I’m okay,” Sadie said into the receiver. “But I’m going to need a ride.”

It took more than an hour to go over things with the police and fire officials.

“Weren’t you involved in that warehouse fire earlier today?” a firefighter asked Sadie.

She looked at him, recognized him from the earlier fire, and nodded.

“Hell, lady, you’d better make nice-nice with whoever you pissed off.”

“Unfortunately, that might be a long list,” Sadie admitted.

Finally she was free to go, and Sadie climbed into the passenger seat of Maeva’s new Mazda RX-8.

“You may not want me in your new car,” Sadie said glumly. “I’m a lightning rod.”

“I’ve got a circle of protection on my car,” Maeva said. She cut her gaze over to Sadie. “You may want to consider one for your entire life.”

“You’re not kidding,” Sadie said, buckling up.

“So who do you think this person is in the black SUV?” Maeva asked. “Do you think whoever was following you bombed your car?”

Sadie sank back in her seat. “You heard what I told the cops. All I know is that I’ve lost my warehouse and two vehicles in one day. My insurance company is going to hate me.”

“Things can be replaced,” Maeva said wisely. “People can’t.”

Sadie’s phone rang. She glanced at the call display and ignored the call.

“Zack?” Maeva asked.

Sadie nodded. “At least I know the boys-in-blue grape-vine is still working,” Sadie remarked. “Although it’s a little slow. Usually Zack would find out about one of my mishaps within a few minutes. It’s been nearly two hours.” She gritted her teeth a little. “Then again, he’s been a little . . . distracted lately.”

“You need a drink,” Maeva announced as she wheeled her vehicle into Sadie’s driveway. “Put your feet up on the coffee table, relax, and let me fix you a martini.”

The idea appealed to Sadie so much that she was on her second martini before she noticed she was drinking alone.

“What’s up with that?” Sadie demanded. “I know you’re driving, but you could at least have one and balance it with an hour of vegging on the couch and drinking strong coffee.”

“No, I can’t,” Maeva remarked softly while sipping a glass of water.

Sadie narrowed her eyes and regarded her friend’s Cheshire grin. “Oh. My. God. You’re not!”

“Not what?” Maeva asked innocently.

“Knocked up. With child. Preggers,” Sadie said, and then getting to her feet she shook a finger at her friend. “You are!”

Maeva nodded. Sadie lunged to hug her friend and then quickly backed off before they touched.

“Sorry,” Sadie said, laughing. She’d momentarily forgotten that Maeva was touch sensitive, and just a small connection with Sadie’s skin to her own would send the psychic vomiting.

“That was close,” Maeva laughed. “But I feel your hug and hug you back, metaphorically speaking.”

“When did you find out?” Sadie demanded.

“A few weeks ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“We wanted to be sure, and then with everything with your dad and Zack, well, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Wow. Pregnant.” Sadie sat back down on the sofa as the reality of her friend’s news sunk in. “Terry’s happy about it?”

“He’s over the moon.” Maeva chuckled. “I was a little shocked at first but, hey, I’m not getting any younger, and I figured it’s now or never.”

Maeva was only a couple years older than Sadie. As if reading her friend’s mind, Maeva leaned in and quietly said to Sadie, “If you want to have a baby, you will one day.”

When Sadie didn’t reply, Maeva carried on. “In the meantime, it sounds like you’re definitely having fun. Tell me about your latest encounter with the male of our species.”

“You make me sound like a slut,” Sadie remarked, downing the rest of her drink.

“You’re a lot of things, Sadie Novak, but easy isn’t one of them,” Maeva laughed. “I’m just shocked. You’re not exactly spontaneous when it comes to men and, well, I think I’m surprised because it’s just a little soon to be in a lip-lock with someone else.”

“You think?” Sadie said, sarcastically. “Of course it’s too soon! It’s been only a few days since Zack moved out! Hell, I’m still not sure if I want to fix things with him or make a clean break, and while I’m undecided I go and consider boinking another guy!” She groaned.

“You actually thought about sleeping with him?”

“He was a very good kisser,” Sadie said in her own defense. “And I guess I was feeling really needy.” Sadie sighed. “It was a mistake to encourage him.”

“It filled a need in the moment, so I wouldn’t call it a mistake, but . . .”

“But what?”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I got news for you. Getting hurt isn’t exactly big on my worry list right now,” Sadie remarked. “I’m just trying to stay alive.”

Maeva left a little while later, and Sadie carefully set her house alarm before giving Hairy a kiss between his ears and climbing into bed. Before she fell asleep, she listened to Zack’s messages on her cell phone. There were two begging her to call him back and let him know she was safe. The third and last message from him had him talking with a slurred speech about how much he loved her and how he was “gonna fixsh thingsh between them, jusht wait and she-e-e.”

When the morning light shone between her miniblinds, Sadie went to work calling insurance companies and arranging for a rental vehicle. She decided to get a van she could use both for work and for personal driving. Her own Scene-2-Clean van would be repairable and was at a body shop getting all its melted bits replaced. The warehouse complex gave her another unit at the end to store the remains of her company stuff not destroyed in the fire. Just as soon as fire investigators had completed their investigation into her unit, the restoration people would move what could be moved. Then she needed to replace a lot of the smoke-and water-damaged inventory.

When the car rental company came to pick her up, Sadie double-checked their credentials through the peephole in her door. Then she set her house alarm, stepped outside, and stopped short at the site of Zack’s Mustang parked in her driveway.

“There’s a dude sleeping in his car,” the rental company guy told Sadie.

“Yeah. Guess he’s thinking he’s protecting me or something,” Sadie said. As they walked past Zack’s car, he didn’t move or even twitch except for the steady rise and fall of his chest as he slept.

After she got her rental van, Sadie text messaged Zack and told him that she wasn’t home so he might as well get out of her driveway. She went out for a latte in her new vehicle and then brought it home. She was prepared to drive by if Zack’s car was still there, but he was gone. She pulled the van into her garage and stocked it with a few minor supplies. Even though she’d be early to meet Ms. Tu, she decided to head down to Ocean View School and finish removing her equipment.

By the time Sadie was hauling the last of her equipment out of the school, Ms. Tu was waiting for Sadie in her office.

“Why don’t we walk down the hall and I can explain what we’ve done,” Sadie said.

“We?” Ms. Tu asked as they headed down the hall. “I thought you worked alone.”

“Oh. Right. I was going to mention Zack—” Sadie stopped short. “He’s, um, an employee that usually works with me on these types of jobs but he, um, had to work another job this week.”

The job of making sure his life was spiraling into the toilet , Sadie thought.

“Anyway,” Sadie continued, “you’ll be happy to know that I arranged for the renovation company to come and at least patch the holes in the drywall this week,” Sadie began. They entered the art center, and Sadie waved to indicate the wall that had had the most blood spatter and the area where she’d had to cut out a large amount of drywall because the blood had seeped beneath.

“So they’ll patch that?” Ms. Tu asked, and Sadie nodded.

“Oh, good,” the principal gushed. “I really didn’t want to start off the school year with gaping holes in the walls. It would be unseemly for a school such as Ocean View.”

Right. But a dead janitor is just fine, Sadie thought.

“The reno guys can’t schedule you in to do the painting for at least a couple more weeks and the replacement carpet is on back order but, yes, the major visual damage will be taken care of.”

“I really appreciate you working as fast as you did,” Ms. Tu remarked, looking at Sadie with approval. The kind of look that made young children want to work harder and faster.

Sadie was immune to the look.

“Now, the large machine in the corner is a type of air purifier. I’d like to leave that here for another day just to be sure, if that’s all right.”

“Certainly,” Principal Tu replied. “I can meet you to get your keys when you pick up the machine then.”

Sadie nodded and allowed the principal to walk her to the front of the school, and then she mentioned casually, “By the way, I heard you’re keeping Virgil Lalty’s grandson here at the school. That’s really big of you.”

“Not at all. Andy is a brilliant child. Gifted. The very thought that he’d attend a public school, well, I never considered it. Never.”

Sadie was surprised at the vehement tone and also glad. It made Sadie feel more assured she was taking care of Virgil Lalty’s final wish. Ms. Tu said she was staying behind in her office to get some paperwork done, so Sadie allowed her to lock up behind her.

Petrovich called Sadie’s cell just as she was pulling out of the school parking lot.

“Wanted to let you know we got an extra team in the Wickses’ house this morning. By tomorrow we’ll need to go upstairs.” His words came out in a clipped monotone.

“Okay,” Sadie replied. “You want me to call the others together and see what we can do about gaining you access to the upstairs?”

“I don’t care what you do,” he said, a harsh bite to his words. “Really. I don’t care.”

“Oka-a-ay,” Sadie replied, confused.

“You’re a grown woman and so who you hang with and what you do, well, that’s your own friggin’ business.”

“Sure.” Sadie’s face scrunched up in concentration. “Why do I get this feeling you’re talking about more than ghost control at Sunnyside Avenue?”

“Hey, I’m talking business. All business. All the time. You and me, we ain’t got the kind of relationship where, you know, it’s more than that.”

Sadie pulled her phone away from her ear and stared at it momentarily like it was a foreign object.

“This is Dean Petrovich I’m talking to, right?” she joked.

“Master of the pasta primavera? Detective extraordinaire? Because you sure don’t sound like my friend and colleague—”

“Guess that’s because I’m not PBF, right? He’s more a friend and colleague than I’ll ever be.”

Sadie could hear the sneer and sarcasm in his words and she cringed.

Oh! My! God! Petrovich knows I kissed Floyd!

“Look, I’ve gotta go,” Sadie said quickly. “I’ll do what I can for the upstairs at Sunnyside Avenue and let you know what happens.”

“Whatever.”

She hung up the phone and punched the rim of her steering wheel and cursed colorfully. Scrolling through her call list, she finally located Floyd’s phone number and hit send. He didn’t answer and the call went straight to voice mail. She disconnected without leaving a message but her blood was boiling. She punched the accelerator when the light turned green and dipped and swerved between cars in traffic. She cut off a burly guy in a pickup and flipped him the bird when he honked. She was majorly ticked off and was driving like a woman possessed. At one point she reached a traffic snarl and was stuck behind a young teen guy who’d had his signal on for the last fifteen minutes. Finally Sadie couldn’t stand it any longer. She got out of her van, walked up to the teen’s beaten up Chevy, tore open the door, and flicked off the signal light.

“Unless you’re going around the world to the right,” Sadie shouted, “that is totally unnecessary!” She slammed the kid’s car shut and left him shaking and no doubt calling his mama from his cell phone.

When Sadie climbed back into her van, she told herself to calm down. There was only one person who deserved to go down for this. She dialed PBF’s number for the fourth time, and this time when it went to voice mail, she left a message.

“Floyd, it’s Sadie. I’m sure you remember me since apparently you’ve been sharing every aspect of our afternoon with the world. I’m sorry. Obviously I didn’t realize this was high school and I was kissing the captain of the football team who was in search of another notch on his bed-post.” She was about to disconnect but added, “Asshole!” before hitting end.

She felt marginally better but the call did not relieve her stress. When she almost rear-ended someone, she realized it was time to pull over before she killed herself or someone else. Luckily, she was very close to Madame Maeva’s Psychic Café and decided she should pop in for a visit.

Sadie entered the café front of the shop and was told by the multipierced receptionist that Maeva was with a client. There were a couple others who appeared to also be waiting to see the psychic for a reading.

Sadie browsed through the storefront and distractedly picked up crystal pendants and scrying mirrors in various shapes and sizes. You could drop a fortune on little knickknacks here. By the cash register there was a display of jewelry on hooks that specifically helped the survivors of abuse. Spend two dollars on a rubber survivor bracelet, and half of the cost went to a charity to help victims of child abuse. Sadie thought it was nice that Maeva helped the occasional charity by selling its goods in her store.

A number of items in Maeva’s shop were out of reach of her own budget, and Sadie was beginning to think she was in the wrong business. Perhaps instead of mopping up the bodily fluids of the dead, she could talk to people’s ghosts full-time and sell kitschy crap out front. It was an appealing thought.

Suddenly one of the back rooms opened up and a plump older woman came running out, bawling her eyes out.

Okay, maybe the job did have drawbacks.

Sadie didn’t wait for the multipierced receptionist to say it was okay for her to see Maeva. She simply bolted down the hall and ducked into the room the crier had just left.

Maeva was seated at a low table surrounded by giant floor pillows. She glanced up at Sadie in surprise.

“I don’t recall you being on my list of appointments today.”

“Yeah, but based on the sight of your last customer, I’m guessing you’re having a day much like mine.”

Maeva shrugged. “Her dead father just told her she was adopted.” She regarded Sadie with a steady gaze. “But you aren’t here to discuss my business or my customers.”

“Not true,” Sadie said. “I was just thinking that maybe I should open up Sadie’s Psychic Salon and quit the whole blood ’n’ guts thing.”

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“Floyd told people we kissed.”

“What? That’s awfully juvenile. Are you sure?”

Sadie thought about Petrovich’s tone when they talked. “Pretty sure.”

Maeva pointed a finger at Sadie. “You just need to stay away from men altogether right now.”

Maeva reached forward to open a carved wood box in the center of the table and pulled out a large deck of cards. “How about if I do a tarot reading for you and—”

“No.” Sadie shook her head. “None of that crap for me, thank you very much.”

“Oh, so now what I do is crap.” Maeva’s face scrunched up and suddenly she looked like she was going to cry.

Sadie remembered the exact same anger-to-tears look crossing Dawn’s face a dozen times during her pregnancy. Sadie rushed to do damage control.

“Not crap. Did I say crap? I meant I feel like crap. I’m having a bad day. That’s all.” She waved to the cards on the table. “If cards will make you feel better, then, hell, pull out the cards.”

“Really?” Maeva sniffed.

“Oh yeah. Really.”

Sadie nodded emphatically but was relieved to see Maeva slip the cards back inside their box.

“Maybe I’ll just see if I can get a regular reading from you.”

Maeva began humming softly to herself, and Sadie tilted her head.

“Wait a second, that’s not ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard. ’ ”

Maeva just kept humming.

“But you always hum ‘We’re Off to See the Wizard.’ Why the new song?”

“It’s ‘All I Ask of You’ from Phantom of the Opera,” Maeva said. “And I don’t always sing the Wizard song.”

“Yes. You do.”

“Well, maybe it was time for a change. Maybe the Wizard song isn’t working for me anymore.”

“Really?”

Maeva didn’t reply but instead kept humming. Only now a fat tear rolled down her cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Sadie asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s not unusual for women in my condition to, um, lose their connections a little.”

“Lose your connection? Do you mean . . . ?” Sadie’s eyes grew huge. “Whoa, you mean you’re no longer psychic?” Sadie shouted.

“Shhh!” Maeva hissed back. “I’m trying to run a business here.”

“Sorry, but how can you see clients who expect a psychic reading if you’re not able to give them one?”

“There’s a certain amount of, well, reading of a person’s body language that goes along with the real thing.”

“What about that woman who you told was adopted?”

“I was reaching, but I’m still pretty sure—”

“Oh, my God. You’re becoming a shyster, a shill, a con-woman.” Sadie chuckled a little, but when Maeva looked positively miserable, she softened her tone. “You’ll be fine. It’ll come back. Probably stronger than ever.”

“You think?”

“Sure,” Sadie said, although she was not exactly an authority on the matter. But it seemed to make sense that if Maeva was losing her ability due to hormones, a return of normal hormonal patterns could resurrect her ability. “In the meantime, go ahead and read cards.”

“Screw the cards,” Maeva said vehemently. “Grab my hands.” She thrust her fingers across the table toward Sadie, and Sadie flinched away.

“I can’t touch you. Remember that first time? We were right in this room. I came in with Dawn for a reading, and when you touched me, boom, you had to run off and puke your guts out. You told me you couldn’t touch people who dance with the dead.” Sadie drew air quotes around dance with the dead, and that memory got a small smile from Maeva but she still had her hands reaching out to Sadie.

“I feel like all my skills are being held down under a lead blanket. If I can’t feel anything when I touch you, I might as well give up until this little body snatcher”—she patted her stomach lovingly—“leaves my body.”

“Okay.” Sadie relented and held out her hands. “But if you puke on me, I’m not going to be a happy camper.”

Tentatively at first, Maeva reached out and touched her fingertips to Sadie’s. Then, finally, she took Sadie’s hands firmly in hers. Her grip tightened as they locked fingers. Sadie watched her friend’s face for any sign of nausea or revulsion, but all she saw was complete concentration.

“The old woman is the key,” Maeva muttered. “She has the answers. The truth is with her and in the boxes.”

19

“Mimi Wicks? But what is the truth I’m looking for and—”

“Shhh!” Maeva said sharply. She tilted her head to the right and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. “Your dad is worried about you. He knows you’re the reason he can’t move on, but he doesn’t know what you want from him.”

Maeva released her tight grasp.

“Huh. You didn’t throw up,” Sadie said. “Didn’t even turn green.”

“The nausea was there,” Maeva said with a smile. “But it was like I get when Terry insists on cooking with blue cheese.” She sighed. “I guess my abilities aren’t gone entirely; they’re just buried deep.”

“Maybe as the baby grows, you’ll get more of your feelings back.”

“Maybe.”

“Isn’t there someone you can ask about this kind of thing?”

“Like a Psychic Friends pregnancy help line?”

“Yeah. Like that.”

“No, but I have talked to a few friends, and they all experienced changes in their abilities, particularly in the first trimester, so I’m not alone.”

“If it’s only during the first trimester, that’s good. You could be back to normal in a few weeks.”

“Some never got their abilities back full force. It was like their minds were so tuned in to their children that they couldn’t tune in to anyone else afterward.”

Sadie saw the fear on Maeva’s face and rushed to assure her. “I’m positive you’re going to be better than ever. You’re not like others out there. Your abilities are pure and sincere. They’ll come back. You’ll see.”

“From your lips to God’s ear,” Maeva muttered. “Okay, you’ve got to go and deal with this Mimi Wicks person, and I’ve got a waiting room filled with people waiting to be disillusioned by my lack of ability.” She made shooing motions with her hands. “Call me later and let me know how I can help you solve this situation with your dad.”

When Sadie opened her mouth to speak, Maeva stopped her.

“Yes, I’m well aware that you don’t want to solve the situation with your dad, but since you’re bringing family dysfunction to an entirely new level by crossing into the afterlife, someone has to initiate an intervention.” She nodded at the door. “Tell my receptionist to send in the next gullible victim. I mean, client.”

When Sadie was back behind the wheel of her rental van, she decided that Maeva was right about one thing. Another visit to the Cedar House Care Home might not hurt. Sadie made a pit stop for chocolate and soon was on her way.

When Sadie arrived at the care center, Noreen scowled at her while she was on the phone. After she hung up she said, “Mrs. Wicks is still in the visiting room. You all should pace yourself. It’s been like Grand Central for her this morning.” Under her breath she muttered, “Don’t know why loved ones can’t get their act together and split up the visits instead of this feast or famine system you all got going on.”

“I’ll just go inside,” Sadie said, not bothering to explain her presence or ask who else had already been to see Mimi.

Mimi was wearing a purple flowered housedress and sitting on her favorite sofa. Sadie made a beeline toward her but Marvin intercepted Sadie before she could reach her destination.

“Hi, Marvin,” Sadie said.

“She’s not happy,” Marvin said.

He was wringing his hands. Obviously if Mimi wasn’t happy, Marvin wasn’t happy.

“First that detective came and then Carole and Paula. It’s just been too much.”

“Carole and Paula visited too? Together?”

“They upset her. It’s not fair that they badger her the way they do.”

Sadie was looking over his shoulder at Mimi. The old woman had gotten up from her sofa and had walked to the window a few feet away.

“I’ll give her a chocolate and she’ll be fine,” Sadie said.

“I don’t think chocolate is going to make this go away,” Marvin said sadly.

Sadie stepped around him and made her way to Mimi. Mrs. Wicks’ back was to Sadie as she gazed out the window. Sadie gently called her name and put a hand on the woman’s shoulder so as not to startle her.

“Mouse?” Mimi asked. She turned, and one look at Sadie changed her expression from immense relief to disappointment. “Oh. It’s you.”

“You were expecting someone else?” Sadie was acutely aware that the Mr. Ugly had also referred to someone called Mouse. Sadie put a hand on Mimi’s shoulder and asked, “Who is Mouse?”

“I didn’t say Mouse. I said house.” Mrs. Wicks walked over to the purple sofa and lowered herself onto it with a groan of effort. “What do you want? Why do you keep coming around?”

“I wanted to let you know about the progress at your house.”

“By progress, you mean they’ve taken all my belongings. All my stuff. And thrown it out, right?” Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“No, Sadie said, trying to stem the tide of tears. “They’ll take all your belongings into storage to go through it and make sure there’s, you know . . .”

“No more dead babies?”

“Right,” Sadie said. “Then it’ll be totally up to you and, well, I guess Paula too, what happens to all the boxes.”

“Same thing as throwing it out,” Mimi said sadly. “A woman spends her entire life accumulating objects she loves. Things that make a house a home. Then the minute you show a sign you’re getting old—bam!” She clapped her hands together loudly. “It’s gone. Your so-called loved ones come along and help themselves to the things you love and decide what stays and what goes.” She sighed. “It’s not fair.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Sadie admitted truthfully. “But you must understand that there’s no way all those boxes can really be full of things you need and love. I mean, half those boxes haven’t even been opened in years.” If ever.

“They’re still mine. I should still get to choose.”

“Well, maybe Paula will let you keep some of your things.”

“She won’t.” Mimi’s face clouded over. “She’s too worried there’ll be stuff in those boxes that shouldn’t be there.”

“Like what? Did she remove the stuff from the upper bedrooms and hide it away because of the baby?” Sadie slipped Mimi a Hershey’s bar, and the old woman clutched it in her hand but didn’t tear into it in her usual way. Mimi didn’t answer so Sadie continued. “I’m still trying to figure out who the guy is that we talked about. Remember? Big guy. Bald. Massive—well over six feet and, um, not very attractive.”

Mimi looked up at Sadie. Naked fear lit her eyes.

“Listen to me.” She reached out and clutched Sadie’s wrist tightly in her arthritic hands. “You need to stop asking questions like this or you’ll get yourself in a ton of trouble.”

She released her grip on Sadie’s hand and slowly unwrapped the chocolate. “Things are done. Finished. Why can’t you just leave it alone?”

“Because somebody tried to kill me, and maybe Paula is worried about Zack leaving her—”

“Paula didn’t do anything wrong,” Mimi said vehemently. She shoved a square of chocolate into her mouth. “But if you keep pushing, then, well, things are going to happen.” She looked over at Sadie with pure misery in her eyes. “Sometimes you just have to let the dead sleep. No sense in dragging things out that are buried.”

“Even if what you thought was buried is hurting people now?” Sadie asked.

Mimi looked down at her hands and appeared to be thinking about that as she unwrapped the last of the chocolate bar.

“While the cat’s away, the mouse will play,” Mimi murmured, her lips in a twisted, sad smile.

Sadie frowned. Was she losing Mimi’s attention to Alzheimer’s again?

“What does that mean?” Sadie asked.

“It means sometimes the cat catches the mouse, and there’s not a damn thing to do about it. Some cats are born mousers. It’s in their blood, and they won’t stop until they’re dead and—” She stopped herself and sighed. “Just leave me alone. I can’t talk to you. Just go.”

Sadie gave Mrs. Wicks one more chocolate from her purse and got up to leave.

On her way out the door she spotted Marvin. She said to him, “You want to make Mimi happy? You want to help her?”

“Yes, of course I do,” he said with a nod. “But I can’t do anything.”

“Find out who Mouse is,” Sadie said. “When you do, call me.”

She walked away from him and didn’t look back.

Sadie dialed Petrovich as soon as she was back in the van. She got his voice mail and left him a message to call her, but she figured if he was still pissed about Floyd, she wouldn’t hear from him.

She dialed Louise next. “We need to get the Thingvolds and work some more magic at Sunnyside Avenue.”

“How soon?” Louise asked.

“Today, if they’re available.”

“I’m available, but I don’t know about Rosemary and Rick. I’ll call you back.”

While waiting to hear back from Louise, Sadie took a call from a number she didn’t recognize. It turned out to be a landlord looking for help in cleaning up an unattended death. Sadie was told the body had been there for a number of weeks before neighbors noticed the smell. Foul play had been ruled out, as the deceased was an elderly person living alone. Now that the coroner had removed the body, the landlord needed the place cleaned, and the insurance company would foot the bill.

It was the blood and gore type of routine job that was the bread and butter of Scene-2-Clean. Sadie told the landlord she could start on the job first thing in the morning. When she disconnected from the call, Sadie began to think things through and realized she had a small problem. A decomp job involved air purifiers, and her backup systems were in her smoke-damaged warehouse. The remaining one was working at Ocean View School.

Louise called back and said that the Thingvolds could squeeze in the Sunnyside Avenue ghost that afternoon.

“They can make it between their two o’clock scrying and their five o’clock séance,” Louise said.

“What does that mean?” Sadie asked.

“They’ll meet us at Sunnyside Avenue at three thirty.”

Sadie agreed that was fine. She glanced at her clock and figured she had enough time to swing by Ocean View School, pick up the air purifier, and get it set up at the new scene. It wasn’t like the school really needed the purifier anymore. The scene had been relatively fresh, and any remaining scent of death had dissipated with her cleaning process on the days she was there. Sadie had mostly left the air purifier there as an extra measure of assurance for Principal Tu.

When Sadie pulled up to Ocean View School, she wasn’t surprised to see Ms. Tu’s vehicle in the parking lot. It was only days away from the first day of school, and principals all over the country were hard at work preparing their schools for students to arrive.

Sadie’s cell phone rang in her hand. She glanced at the incoming number and froze. Pretty Boy Floyd. She waited a minute until the call had gone to voice mail, and then she retrieved his message.

“Sadie, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I never said a thing to Petrovich about the two of us. That would be, well, wrong. If anyone told Dean, I’m guessing it was Bowman. Zack left me a dozen angry messages since he saw us drive off from the hospital together. Just call me.”

Sadie winced. Now that she thought about it, she realized it was entirely possibly Zack had been the one to tell Petrovich that Sadie was up to no good with Floyd. Sadie hit send on her phone to immediately dial the last call that came in, but before Floyd could answer she pressed end. She’d call Petrovich after she was done here to get the truth from him, and then she’d call Floyd.

Tucking the phone into her pocket, Sadie headed for the school and let herself inside. She stopped and poked her head inside the office to let Ms. Tu know she was on the premises. The principal stood with her back to Sadie, looking out her window with her cell phone pressed to her ear. Sadie figured it was best to return in a few minutes, so she quietly proceeded down the hall.

When Sadie reached the art center she found her air purifier hard at work, whooshing air in and out in a constant loud hum. Sadie shut the unit down and wrapped the cord around it. The hefty boxlike purifier rode on whisper quiet casters, making it easy for Sadie to push it out of the room and down the hall like a shopping cart, only one twice as heavy.

Near the front door of the school, Sadie paused, leaving the purifier by the door while she dipped in to visit Principal Tu again. Might as well hand over the school keys while she was here.

She explained to Cheryl Tu that her end of the job was completed and then handed her the keys.

“Thanks for all your hard work,” Ms. Tu said with an abrupt nod.

“No problem. If you ever need my services again . . .” Sadie handed her a business card.

Ms. Tu took the card and placed it in her desk drawer. No doubt it would never see the light of day again.

Sadie was now running behind schedule to meet the Thingvolds and Louise. However, as she was racing to Sunnyside Avenue to meet them, she received a call from Louise saying Rick and Rosemary were also running behind and could they please delay things until after their five o’clock séance.

Sadie agreed. She was in no rush to go back to Sunnyside Avenue, and a nice trip to her newest decomposition scene might be just what the doctor ordered to help her heart relax. She called the landlord to confirm her arrival and pulled an illegal U-turn to head in the direction of the new scene. At least she already had her air purifier.

She suited up in hazmat gear and did a walk-through of the home where the elderly person died. There was no ghost to help over, and Sadie was relieved for the distraction of simply taking photos of the job. The house was a nightmare of decomp fluids, sloughed skin, and hair. Sadie couldn’t wait to dig in. It would be an immense relief to work herself to the bone scrubbing this scene. She promised herself she’d come early tomorrow and work all day and night just to feel like she was back in the groove.

On her way back home, Sadie promised herself something else too. She vowed not to return to Sunnyside Avenue after this evening’s appointment there with the Things and Louise. Every pissed-off ghost in the world wasn’t her problem. She had to learn to just walk away from stuff like that when it got out of hand. It’s not like she didn’t have enough personal issues to keep her busy. Between Zack, her dad, and her mom, Sadie figured she could keep the drama high in her life without dealing with junk-flinging ghosts.

Sadie was looking forward to a hot shower and washing away the smell of decomp before going to work on setting up a file for the new job. However, before she could get home, she got a call from Noreen, the receptionist at Cedar House.

“I don’t normally do this, you understand,” Noreen said to Sadie. “But you did give me your business card and you’ve been to see her a lot so—”

“What’s up?” Sadie asked.

“Mimi is asking for you,” Noreen said. “Not just asking. She’s demanding you come and she’s making a big fuss about it.”

Sadie groaned.

“It’s just that she’s disturbing other residents and they’ll have to sedate her if this continues.”

“Fine. I’m on my way.”

She disconnected the call and took a sharp right at the next corner.

“The old bat’s probably needing a chocolate fix,” Sadie grumped as she wheeled through traffic.

She arrived at Cedar House, and Noreen greeted her by wordlessly pointing to the visitors’ lounge. Sadie walked in to find Mimi pacing in front of her favorite sofa.

When Mimi spotted Sadie, she all but ran to meet her.

“Finally!” Mimi shouted, as if Sadie was late for a scheduled appointment.

“What can I do for you?” Sadie asked.

Mimi grabbed Sadie by the hand and pulled her over to the sofa. “Paula and Carole came back to see me,” Mimi said.

“And?” Sadie asked.

Mimi templed her hands under her chin and chewed her lower lip. “Maybe I got to tell you from the beginning. It’s not like you’re a cop, right?”

“No-o-o-o.”

“Well, then it kind of started when Paula was about fourteen.”

“What? She started whoring around, stealing other girls’ boyfriends?” Sadie mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Like I was saying,” Mimi continued. “Paula’s dad died and, well, she was taking it real hard. I went out on a Saturday morning to look for a good tag sale, and there was one a few blocks over. Mostly kitchen stuff but there were at least a half dozen boxes still not even unpacked.” Her eyes sparked a little at the memory. “I offered Bertrude twenty-five dollars for the boxes, contents unseen.”

“Bertrude?” Sadie asked with a frown. “The lady that’s now your neighbor? Carole’s mom?”

“Yes, yes,” Mimi said impatiently. “She moved to Spokane after her husband, Stephen, um . . .”

“Killed himself?” Sadie finished. “That was the case Detective Petrovich took on, right? They found him in his car in Discovery Park?”

“Right. Anyway, then Bertrude moved back to the neighborhood and right next to me.” Mimi waved her hand as if we were getting away from the point. “And then—”

“But Paula and Carole were friends before she moved back to be your neighbor. Did you know the family when you went to the garage sale? Did the girls go to school together?”

Mimi sighed and obviously didn’t want to get into it. “Yes, they went to school together and became friends. What happened is that I gave one box from Bertrude’s tag sale to Paula. Told her she could pick any box she wanted, and the one she picked was loaded with costume jewelry. A ton of it. She started wearing it to school, and then Carole recognized some of it as her own stuff that her mom had sold. The two girls agreed to share it.” She got up and paced a little more. “As I was saying, I offered Bertrude twenty-five dollars for those boxes. A good deal for me but I expected her to argue. Especially considering she didn’t seem to even know what was inside the boxes. I found out later she was thinking of taking Carole and leaving Stephen, so she was selling off boxes of his stuff quickly, while he was out of town on business.”

“Okay, but why is it important that you tell me this now?” Then a small niggling feeling nudged Sadie’s subconscious. “Are you saying the baby was in one of those boxes that you got from Bertrude? Was the baby Carole’s baby?”

Mimi tapped her finger to her lips as if trying to keep whatever secrets were inside from spilling out.

“All you need to know is that I kept those boxes with a whole lot of others in an upstairs bedroom. You know, the room that got cleared out the other day and that you and the cop was asking about. Well, Carole may have moved those boxes herself. You should just stop asking around about who took what was upstairs because I’m pretty sure that she took that stuff, and it doesn’t matter ’cause it was her stuff anyway and I’m fine with it. So you all should just leave well enough alone,” she babbled.

“But the police are investigating it as a crime scene, Mimi. It doesn’t matter if you’re fine with the stuff going back to Carole. It still needs to be checked out by the police.” Sadie shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would Carole risk crossing a crime scene to get at boxes of stuff that you’d had for over a decade?” Sadie frowned and then answered her own question. “Unless she just found out there was something even worse than a mummified baby in the other boxes. Stuff about her dad.”

Sadie’s eyes searched Mimi’s. “Stephen Brant was suspected of murdering a couple of girls, right? Did he keep souvenirs from those murders? Did Carole and Paula know that?”

“I’m just telling you to stop asking about those boxes, and everything will be fine. You don’t need to go through someone else’s stuff. It’s a dangerous habit, is all,” Mimi said heatedly.

“Did Paula and Carole tell you to threaten me?” Sadie asked Mimi. “Did they say something about making me stop the search for the boxes? Is that why you called me here?”

“It’s my house and I’m just saying you’ve got to stop being so nosy,” Mimi said, raising her chin defiantly.

“I think we’re done here,” Sadie said.

She got to her feet. Sadie walked around the small table housing the two old ghosts who were playing their usual invisible game of cards. Before she could leave the room, Sadie was stopped short by Marvin, who waved at her from a few feet away.

“She’s not a bad person,” Marvin called out as he approached. “You need to understand that.”

“I never said she was a bad person,” Sadie said with a sigh. “Now, just let me leave and—”

Sadie watched in shock as Marvin came closer, walking right through a coffee table between them.

“You’re dead.”

“As a doornail,” he said with a sigh.

“But . . .”

“I love her.” He nodded to Mimi sitting on the purple sofa, looking forlornly out the window. “So I hang around and keep her company.”

“But—but she can’t see you,” Sadie said. “Like I can.”

“I like to think that she can feel me,” he said with a sad smile. “This thing with Stephen Brant, it wasn’t her fault. You can’t fault a mama bear for protecting her young.”

Sadie shook her head. “I don’t even know what that means, Marvin.”

“It means Stephen Brant . . . hell, he just needed killing.”

Sadie blew out an exasperated breath. “But he wasn’t killed. He took his own life and—”

At the look on Marvin’s face, she stopped short.

“He didn’t kill himself, did he? He was murdered.” Sadie’s eyebrows pulled together in concentration.

She dug her cell phone out of her pocket when it rang. The call was from Zack. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t answer it. When she looked up, Marvin was gone and Mimi was being helped out of the room by an orderly.

Sadie walked back to her vehicle and headed for home. She didn’t know what to make of what Marvin had said but figured it wasn’t her place to try to figure it out. She dialed Petrovich.

Sadie’s call went to voice mail and she left him a message.

“First of all, Dean, it’s none of your business about what I do in my personal time but I know we’re friends so I appreciate your concern. Nothing’s going to happen between PBF and me. Zack is, well, just not himself right now.” She paused. “Second, I’m pretty sure that Carole Brant was the one who took the boxes from Sunnyside Avenue, and I’m guessing they’re probably right next door. Maybe in their garage. She’s hiding something but I’ve got a feeling it has more to do with family secrets and Stephen Brant than dead babies. Anyway, call me.”

When Sadie parked the van in her garage, she felt disconcerted and annoyed by her trip to Cedar House. Frankly, she didn’t care if Carole Brant took the boxes and Paula helped. She wanted to be done with the whole damn place and was seriously considering telling Louise to cancel their meeting.

Slipping her key in the dead bolt, Sadie stepped into the laundry room that doubled as her shower area. She still felt grimy from her earlier visit to the decomposition scene. Stripping down, she immediately tossed the clothes she’d been wearing into the washing machine and then gratefully stepped into the shower stall. Cranking the temperature up on the water, Sadie turned to the wall and allowed the hot spray to hit between her shoulder blades and obliterate the stress that had built up there.

When the shower door was ripped open, Sadie barely had time to scream before Paula Wicks jabbed her in the scalp with a hypodermic needle.

Sadie’s mouth formed the word “why” as she slid down the wall of the shower and her world faded to black.

20

Sadie tried to coax her eyelids open but they were too heavy. Finally, with monumental effort, she was able to open them to mere slits. She was naked, her hands and feet were bound, and she was in the back of her rental van. The road they were driving on was rough and her body bounced hard against the metal floor. The van took an abrupt turn, and Sadie rolled sharply against the wall. She could make out the sound of two voices: Paula’s and Carole’s.

“It’s too early,” Paula was saying. “We shouldn’t be in the park before dark.”

“But you said yourself the drugs will wear off soon,” Carole pointed out. “What if she wakes up and starts freaking out?”

“She’s bound and gagged,” Paula said with a laugh. “What will she do, kill us with a dirty look?”

If I could, I would, Sadie thought, but even trying to stay awake was a huge task. She tried to wiggle her fingers but the plastic ties that bound her wrists together cut painfully into her flesh. When she fought against the restraints, it made breathing through her nose that much more difficult and caused her to panic until she sobbed against the duct tape that covered her mouth.

Easy, she told herself. Calmly think this through.

Carole was complaining bitterly to Paula about something but Sadie was having a hard time focusing until she heard something about Stephen Brant. Then she forced herself to pay attention.

“How the hell am I supposed to know exactly how my mom did it?” Paula demanded. “I only found out that she killed him when she started mixing up her past and present because of the Alzheimer’s.”

Wait a second. Mimi Wicks killed Stephen Brant? Sadie craned her ears to hear and begged the dark fog not to envelope her.

“I knew all along he didn’t kill himself,” Carole said glumly. “He was enjoying himself too much. Deep down I always hoped my mom had finally stood up to him.”

“At least your mom told you about all the missing boxed videotapes so we could get them out of the house before Nancy Drew back there found them and turned them over to police,” Paula pointed out.

Videos? Sadie thought, and then she lost her battle against the blanket of unconsciousness that covered her.

Sadie had no idea how much time had elapsed when her eyes dared to open again. The van was dark, chilly, and deadly silent. She rolled from her side onto her back, and pain shot through her ankles. After a moment she forced her knees to bend so that she could scoot toward the van doors. If she could somehow get to her feet, she hoped to open the latch and hop outside. If she found herself in the middle of nowhere, she knew she’d be out of luck. There was no way she could get far with her ankles and wrists tied. She remembered something about a park, but they could’ve just left the van in an alley somewhere. She sure as hell wasn’t about to lie around waiting to find out.

Scooching down along the hard metal floor, Sadie made her way to the rear doors. She managed to wriggle and writhe her way to a crouched position. A film of exhaustive perspiration covered her body as she attempted to get to her feet. It took multiple tries to stand but she was successful after levering herself against the rear doors and squirming upward. Sadie took only a brief moment to gather air into her lungs and calm herself. Then her fingers groped until they found the latch for the rear door. She attempted to work her numb fingers to pull it upward and open the door.

Locked!

A sob broke against the duct tape on her mouth just as the van was illuminated by headlights.

Oh, God, let it be help!

Footsteps rushed to the back of the van and a key went into the lock. The doors were tugged open, and Sadie tumbled out onto the cold, damp ground.

“Fuck!” shrieked Carole.

“I told you we waited too long to give her another shot,” Paula said. “Help me get her back inside.”

The two women roughly yanked Sadie upward by her armpits, and Sadie got a look at her surroundings. She appeared to be in a secluded wooded area with nothing but trees and brush as far as her eyes could see. Deadly reality clutched painfully in her chest. Even if she could somehow get the tape off her mouth, nobody would hear her scream.

Still, if they were going to kill her, Sadie had no reason to make it easy.

Carole climbed backward inside the van to heave Sadie from behind, and Paula was in front of her. When the two finally lifted Sadie and had her rear propped up inside the floor of the van, they roughly pushed and pulled her to the center of the van.

“Get her clothes,” Paula ordered. She sneered in Sadie’s face. “Not feeling so high-and-mighty now, are you? It’s your own fault, you know. All you had to do was butt out, but no-o-o-o, the Queen of Clean always gets the job done, saves the day, and gets her man.” She leaned in to whisper in Sadie’s face. “Well, today the queen is dethroned.”

Her words were harsh but Sadie looked into Paula’s face and had a moment of satisfaction. The massive hives and blisters all over Paula’s face said the spell powder Sadie had sprinkled in the car had worked. Her eyes must’ve been smiling because Paula’s face grew serious.

“And Zack’s mine too. After you’re dead, he’ll need some serious consoling.”

Abruptly, Sadie drew back her head then slammed it forward, connecting her forehead with Paula’s nose. There was a loud crack and a spurt of blood.

“You bitch!” Paula shrieked. She raised a fist above her head but before she could lower it, Carole clamped her hand on Paula’s wrist and stopped her.

“Get out of here before you bleed all over,” Carole instructed.

Cursing all the way, Paula climbed to the front of the van and exited the driver’s door, one hand cupping her sore nose all the while.

Carole opened a canvas bag and pulled out Sadie’s clothes: panties, bra, jeans, and a T-shirt, as well as socks and Nikes. Sadie glanced at her clothes on the floor of the van with delight. If they planned to dress her, they’d have to untie her.

The driver’s door opened.

“I’ll get the hose hooked up,” Paula said. Her voice sounded nasally because she’d packed her nostrils with tissue. “Once she’s out of it, we’ll dress her. Just keep an eye on her in the meantime.”

Hose? Sadie thought. What the hell?

Paula closed the driver’s door, and Sadie heard her footsteps sound softly on the earth between the van and the other vehicle.

Sadie’s eyes searched Carole’s for answers. She noticed the woman’s black eye had gone from deep purple to layered green, and she wondered absently whether Mr. Ugly had clobbered her with a box of goods.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Carole begged. “It won’t hurt at all. After a few minutes you’ll just go to sleep.”

Sleep? Somehow Sadie doubted she meant a solid eight hours of bed rest.

Now Sadie heard fumbling around at the back of the van and she began to realize what was happening. They were going to attach a hose to the tailpipe and funnel the exhaust in through the window until she was dead. Then they’d dress her and put her at the wheel like it was a suicide.

A vision of the Mr. Ugly’s ghost at Sunnyside Avenue sprang to her mind. Red lips. A sign he’d died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Why didn’t she figure it out before? Stephen Brant was the vicious ghost at the Wickses’ house!

Sadie closed her eyes as realization overtook her. She must be in Discovery Park, where the police had discovered the body of Stephen Brant. They said he’d committed suicide at the park by swallowing a handful of pills and then running a hose from his exhaust pipe into his car to be sure. Paula and Carole obviously knew the truth courtesy of Mimi’s forgetful slipup. But there was another truth they didn’t know. Stephen Brant didn’t die here in the park. If he had, this was where his spirit would be haunting. Nope, Mimi Wicks killed Stephen Brant inside her own home and then drove him out here to make it look like a suicide.

Paula opened the driver’s door, rolled the window down a crack, and then fed the end of a hose through the window. She climbed into the van, closed the door, and then tugged a good length of the hose inside. She raised the window enough that it gripped the hose slightly and it wouldn’t slip out. She bent over to climb into the back of the van, and Sadie noticed a twinkle of starlight catch the silver S pendant Paula wore around her neck.

“C’mon,” Paula said, nodding to Carole. “It’s time to go, Mouse.”

21

Within a few seconds the noxious carbon monoxide fumes began filling the van. Paula wasn’t taking any chances; she took a needle from her pocket and plunged it into Sadie’s scalp. Sadie had two thoughts before she drifted off. The first was that Paula knew the scalp was a more difficult place for a coroner to locate a needle prick. The second was that her own father wouldn’t be able to greet her on the other side because she hadn’t yet helped him go over.

The next thing she knew her backside was scraping roughly against the cold metal of the van floor. Sadie moaned in protest. If Paula and Carole planned to dress her and prop her up in the van, she prayed God would give her enough energy to at least fight them, but her arms were as limp as a rag doll’s.

“Gentle with her,” growled a voice.

A male voice.

Someone she recognized.

Gratitude and immense relief washed over her as Sadie forced one eye open to look up into Dean Petrovich’s grumpy face. She was never so happy to see his miserable scowl. He snagged the blanket that had slipped from her naked body and carefully covered Sadie all the way up to her shoulders.

Sadie thought she murmured, “Thanks,” but was unsure whether her lips actually formed words.

Petrovich barked orders as he helped the paramedics lift and slide Sadie out of the back of the van and onto a stretcher, all the while helping her maintain her hold on the blanket and also her dignity.

The world around her was a tilting, swirling blur.

Bed spins without the drinking fun, Sadie thought. A hysterical giggle bubbled out of her throat, sounding more like a sob.

“Hurry,” Petrovich shouted, and the stretcher was bumped quickly away from the van.

Sadie glanced around the shadowed woods. The site illuminated by the glow of emergency vehicle headlights, she could make out Carole Brant and Paula Wicks cuffed and being pressed into the rear of a Seattle PD vehicle. Another car pulled onto the dirt road and came to a stop just behind the ambulance. Two men quickly jumped out and came running over. Petrovich stopped them both with a raise of his hand and a dirty look.

“You know, you’re real lucky this time,” Petrovich said to Sadie, laying a warm hand to cover hers as the stretcher paused before she was lifted into the back of the ambulance.

Sadie’s fuzzy head agreed but still her tongue could not move to say the words. She watched in dazed fascination as both Zack and Floyd elbowed past Petrovich. They were each shouting words to her that sounded at once concerned and panicked. Sadie watched their images dissolve into a murky haze behind her closed lids as her stretcher was hoisted into the ambulance.

Sadie didn’t remember much of what happened after that. She vaguely recalled the clean, cool sheets of the hospital bed. There were faces that floated into her line of vision whenever she opened her eyes: Dawn, Mom, Maeva, Petrovich, and even Floyd. But not Zack.

It seemed easier to sleep instead of talk, so she did.

For days.

Eventually the hospital had no reason to hold her. When the time came to leave, Sadie called Maeva. Her friend tucked Sadie into the passenger seat of her car, buckling her seat belt and murmuring words of comfort as if she were a small child in need of reassurance. Sadie wondered absently whether Maeva was practicing for her upcoming role as a mother. They rode to Sadie’s house in silence. Actually, Sadie had yet to speak to anyone about the incident. She’d overheard the doctor warning family and friends not to bring it up until she was ready.

Once Sadie was on her own sofa in her own house and holding dear ol’ Hairy in her lap, she let out a long, slow breath as if she’d been holding it forever.

“How did they know?” she asked Maeva.

Maeva had been about to lower herself into the chair next to Sadie and now she paused with her butt still halfway down.

“She speaks,” Maeva said, and smiled a tentative and relieved smile as she sat. “How did who know what?”

“How did the cops know where I was? How did they find me in time?”

“Zack put it all together,” Maeva said. “Paula freaked out when he moved out of her place and went to stay at a hotel. He returned to her apartment to pick up his things and found some sort of agenda. She was a list maker.”

“Lists will get you every time,” Sadie said with a halfhearted chuckle before her face got serious. Her eyes on the rabbit in her lap, she asked, “I didn’t see him. Did Zack come to the hospital?”

“No. He checked back into the recovery center on the night they brought you to the hospital. Floyd drove him. You can visit him whenever you feel up to it.”

Relief washed over her and Sadie blinked back tears.

Maeva said, “Your mom and sister would really like to check in on you. . . .”

“Maybe later,” Sadie said. Though it was only afternoon, she was suddenly exhausted. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

When Sadie woke up the next day at the crack of noon she was surprised to find that Maeva had stayed the night and that Petrovich was sitting next to the psychic on Sadie’s sofa. At first Sadie was self-conscious in the oversized tee she wore to bed, but then she remembered Dean had seen more than a little bare leg the night he’d come to rescue her.

“Hi,” Sadie said softly as she walked into the living room.

“I’ll get you some coffee,” Maeva said, excusing herself from the living room and leaving them alone.

“Just checking in,” Petrovich said. “Thought you might want an update but if you’re not up to it, I understand.”

So much for the good doc telling everyone not to bring it up.

Sadie smiled. Petrovich knew he’d want closure if the shoe was on the other foot.

“Fill me in,” Sadie said, bracing herself. “Paula and Carole?” she prodded.

“Behind bars.”

“And covering for the fact that Mimi Wicks killed Stephen Brant, right? I’m guessing all those years ago Mimi came home and found Mr. Ugly messing with Paula like he’d messed with Carole, and Mimi took justice into her own hands. Somehow she incapacitated him, probably sleeping pills in booze or something, and then she pulled his vehicle into her garage and ran the hose from the exhaust in his window. Next, she drove his vehicle with him in it out to a secluded area in Discovery Park, where she rehooked up the hose to make it look like he’d done it to himself there.”

“Wow, you’re good.” Petrovich smiled, obviously impressed.

“I’ve had a few days to think about it.”

“How’d you know it didn’t happen in the park?”

“Because the Mr. Ugly ghost at Sunnyside Avenue is Stephen Brant. If he’d died in the park, his spirit would be there. As it was, he stayed at Sunnyside Avenue. Maybe he haunted Mimi. Maybe he didn’t. It’s not like she was about to admit stuff was flying around, since everyone already thought she was crazy.”

“Yeah, Mimi hasn’t been able to confirm anything. She hasn’t had a good day since I started questioning her,” Petrovich said. “But after a little pressure, Paula and Carole squealed like pigs. According to Paula the reason Stephen Brant was killed at Mimi’s house was because Mimi caught him not with Paula but trying to steal back some boxes she bought from Bertrude.”

“Mimi killed him because of boxes?”

He shrugged. “She’s pretty protective of her stuff.”

“What about the mummified baby? It was Carole’s, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. The sick puppy impregnated his own daughter. She gave birth at home quietly and without anyone’s help but Paula’s.”

“Geez, that must’ve been rough for a couple of teens. Bertrude didn’t notice her own daughter was pregnant?”

“I imagine she closed her eyes to a lot,” Petrovich stated. “Paula and Carole both claim the baby was stillborn. Coroner believes that’s a possibility. The girls wrapped the baby in newspaper and hid it in a box, not knowing Bertrude would try to sell off everything at a garage sale. When they realized most of the boxed items were bought by Mimi, they figured they were safe again, since she rarely even looked inside the boxes at the treasures she bought.”

“But wasn’t Paula worried when Zack came in to clean that he would find what was in the boxes?”

“She figured Zack and even you would just chuck the works in the big trash bins in the driveway, and she was right because that’s what you had been doing,” Petrovich said. “Paula knew nobody could be bothered to go through all the debris inside that house. And her goal was always to clean out the upper bedroom herself, since that’s where she knew Mimi had stashed the boxes long ago. Then when she did get worried about whether you’d found what was in the boxes, Paula used Zack’s key to your house and made a copy for herself. She checked your garage because she figured that’s where you’d store the videotapes if you found them.”

Sadie shook her head. “What videotapes? And why would she think I’d want to keep them?”

“She figured if you found them, you’d be pissed enough about Bowman to use them against her.”

“Use Stephen Brant’s videotapes against her? That doesn’t make sense. Also, why did she continue to steal the boxes after the baby was already discovered? Why take a chance on Mr. Ugly and breaking into a crime scene? Unless . . .” Sadie’s voice trailed off. “Unless there was an even darker secret and it was on those tapes.”

“Carole and Paula knew firsthand what Stephen Brant was capable of doing,” Petrovich said.

“They knew he murdered those two thirteen-year-olds . . . Tanya and Ashley?”

He nodded. “Not only that, Brant convinced Carole and Paula to help him.”

“Help?” Sadie felt sickened by the direction of the conversation.

“Carole and Paula admitted that they brought Tanya and Ashley to Stephen Brant. They traded the two girls for their own freedom away from his sick abuse.”

“Oh, God,” Sadie whispered. She put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment. “But nobody would’ve found out about that, right? You said yourself, you didn’t even have enough evidence to arrest Stephen Brant for those girls before he wound up dead.”

“Yeah, but Carole found a video in her house. Actually, a box of videos.”

“He filmed himself with the girls?” Sadie’s jaw dropped.

Petrovich nodded. “Not just what he did to Paula and Carole, but he got them on tape bringing in the other two girls. Had them confessing that they’d lured the girls to the house.”

“Oh, no,” Sadie murmured. “All along they were worried they’d be charged along with Brant for murdering the girls. Even after he died, he held them hostage with those tapes because they could’ve been convicted. But if Carole found the videos . . .”

“Carole found a box of videos when her mom was packing and moving to Spokane, but a note inside told her there were many copies in other boxes hidden away. They tried to find the boxes but it was like finding a needle in a haystack. Even though she destroyed that first box of videos, it wasn’t enough.”

“And they knew that second box was probably sold at Bertrude’s sudden garage sale and bought unopened by Mimi. She hid all those boxes upstairs. The baby. The tapes. Have you been able to get into the upstairs of the Wickses’ house yet?”

“We’ve sort of taken a break there.”

“Probably a good idea.” A thought occurred to her. “Carole’s rubber ‘survivor’ bracelet and Paula’s S necklace.

I finally remember where I’ve seen that jewelry before. Maeva sells it on the counter of her store. Proceeds go to an organization that helps survivors of childhood sexual abuse. At some time Paula and Carole probably went to the charity for help.”

“It’s likely,” Petrovich agreed. “But the help didn’t stick. They didn’t ever get over it. Brant controlled them long after the bugs picked his bones cleaned. Maybe Paula and Carole can get the help they need in prison.”

Maeva came back in the room and handed coffee mugs to Sadie and Petrovich.

“Thanks,” Sadie said, gratefully sipping the strong liquid. “So, what about the fires? My van, car, and the warehouse?”

“We’re at a stalemate there,” Petrovich admitted. “Carole says it must’ve been Paula, and Paula claims it was Carole.”

“Huh. What do you think?”

“I’m leaning toward Carole since you said it was a dark SUV that followed you. Bertrude drives a black Trailblazer and Carole had easy access to it.” He paused thoughtfully. “By the way, Paula has a really gross-looking rash. Her entire face is covered with puss-filled blisters and hives.” He shuddered. “Doctor looked at it and they don’t have a clue what caused it. No amount of medication seems to help. She’s convinced you gave it to her. You know anything about that?” Petrovich asked.

“Not a thing.”

Sadie and Maeva shared a giggling smile over their cups of coffee.

“Okay, I think she’s had enough,” Maeva said to Petrovich. To Sadie she said, “You’ve got to take it easy. Pace yourself.”

“Yes, Mom,” Sadie joked.

Petrovich left and then Sadie convinced Maeva to go back home to Terry.

“Terry’s getting ready to cater a bachelor party tonight,” Maeva said. “He doesn’t need me underfoot.”

“Well, you’re welcome to hang around but I’m going to be boring as hell. Sleep. Watch TV.” Sadie shrugged. “Maybe throw a ball to Hairy.”

“Well, I’ll leave you for a little while and check back in a couple hours.”

As soon as Maeva left, Sadie made a list with only three items on it. She picked up the phone and went to work to tackle the first item on the agenda.

“Hi, Louise,” Sadie said. “Can you get the Thingvolds together and meet me at Sunnyside Avenue?”

Sadie went to Sunnyside Avenue early. She’d had to rent another vehicle. As she pulled into the driveway in the small compact, she made a mental note to go car shopping soon. Nervously she glanced up and felt the weight of Stephen Brant’s evil gaze hammering down on her from the upstairs window. She rubbed her arms for warmth and was thrilled to see Louise’s blue Mini Cooper pull into the driveway behind her. The Thingvolds were with her.

Sadie greeted them in the driveway. “Thanks for coming,” Sadie said.

“Thanks for not getting killed,” Louise said.

“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here for round two,” Thing One announced.

“We’re glad to help,” Thing Two told her. “But you should know that this may be a bit trickier then last time.”

“Because we held him in one area and now have to move him?”

“Oh, we can’t move him,” Thing Two said.

“Rick is right,” Louise said, reaching into her car and pulling out her large black tote bag. “We’re not playing chess with a pawn piece here.”

“That’s right,” Thing One added. “We can’t really be moving him from place to place.”

“We can’t?” Sadie asked. “Because, you know, I’m kind of happy with just pushing him here or there. We could even just stick him in a closet the cops don’t need to get into. I don’t think we need to do anything more than that.”

“It wouldn’t be prudent,” Thing One said.

“Or ethical,” Thing Two added.

“We need to banish him to the next dimension. Permanently,” Louise said.

Oh, brother.

Once inside the house, everyone got busy. Louise opened her bag and took out a bag of green herbs. The Thingvolds opened their own satchels, pulling out their wands and muttering words of enchantment to each other. Sadie did her thing, standing and wringing her hands, cursing under her breath and stealing furtive glances up stairs.

“You should understand that we’ve never actually moved a circle of protection before,” Thing Two said.

“It’s true,” Thing One confirmed. “We’ve put them up, taken ’em down, and then put up new ones and stuff like that but, well—”

“They’re trying to tell you that there are no guarantees,” Louise said. “Sometimes the evil gets in, no matter how strong the magic.”

“Oh, I feel much better now,” Sadie muttered sarcastically. “So what will we do?”

“We’ll travel upstairs while I perform the purification smudging,” Louise said. “And we have a spell to chant together.”

Thing One recited quietly, “Divine God and Goddess, protector of all that you possess, protect us all of kindly heart, from blackness in the darkest part. If evil dwells within this place, banish it to another space.”

“It’s important that we all say it together,” Thing Two pointed out. “It’s more powerful that way.”

“I’m going to need a day or two just to memorize that,” Sadie said drily.

“I brought index cards,” Louise said, happily handing them out. She turned to Sadie. “You can also do this.” Louise thrust a small bottle of clear liquid into Sadie’s hands. “It’s holy water. Just sprinkle it around and fling it at the dude.”

“Right.” Sadie’s knees shook with fear. She felt as if she was about to throw up.

They climbed the stairs slowly and deliberately. The door to the corner bedroom was open. It was the room the ghost would’ve been bound to if the circle truly did prevent him from leaving but Sadie didn’t see him there now.

“He’s not there,” Sadie said.

“He’s there,” Thing Two said firmly. “I can feel his evil-ness.”

“What a bunch of freaks,” snarled a male voice from the corner. They all looked over at Mr. Ugly glaring over at them from the center of the upper bedroom.

“Let me out,” he roared.

Sadie flinched and spilled the entire contents of the holy water on her shoe.

“I’m willing to help you,” Sadie told him. “You need to move on. There’s nothing left for you here. It’s over. Your stuff is gone and what’s left here will be going soon.”

His face faltered.

“You’re doing good,” Thing Two told her. “Keep talking.”

“You’ve been in limbo for a long, long time,” Sadie said. “I’m sure you’re tired. There are probably others waiting for you on the other side.”

“Oh, they’re waiting for me all right.” He sneered. “Want to see?”

He opened his mouth impossibly wide until his jaw stretched and distorted like that of a python unhinging its jaw for a huge prey.

“Oh, God,” Louise cried. “Don’t look at it!”

But Sadie couldn’t resist. The cavity of the spirit’s dark mouth showed the fires of hell, and mingled in the flames were the twisted shapes of spirits screaming in agony. Sadie didn’t realize she was falling until Things One and Two grasped her elbows and tugged her roughly to her feet.

“Snap out of it,” Louise shouted, snapping her fingers in Sadie’s face.

“You!” Louise pointed a finger in the general direction of Mr. Ugly. “In the name of all that is good, we banish you from this place!”

All at once Louise and the Thingvolds began shouting in one voice, “Divine God and Goddess, protector of all that you possess—” Louise nudged Sadie, and Sadie groped for her index card so she could read along. She added her own words to the three shouting, and their voices rose to a loud scream.

“Protect us all of kindly heart, from blackness in the darkest part. If evil dwells within this place, banish it to another space!”

As they shouted, the spirit began to fade until Sadie could see clear through his form to the other side of the room.

“Again!” Thing One said, and three repeated the chant at a shrill screaming level.

Sadie was shocked that their intended target appeared weakened by mere words. Suddenly, in a cloud of bright red, the edges of Mr. Ugly burst into a brief blue flame that quickly died. For a few seconds there was a popping, sizzling noise that was followed by a blinding shimmer before he disappeared altogether.

“He’s gone,” Sadie said, her voice a hoarse whisper.

“Good job, everyone!” Louise shouted.

There was a spontaneous and enthusiastic group hug. Unfortunately, Sadie forgot the three were touch sensitive like Maeva, and within seconds Louise and the Thingvolds had all lost their lunch in the upstairs hall.

22

Sadie quickly perused the back bedroom that Mr. Ugly had been so determined to protect. Almost the entire room had been cleared out with just a few odds and ends remaining; however, on the top shelf of the closet Sadie discovered a carved wood box. Sadie popped it open and saw a collection of girlie things: barrettes, a pair of earrings, and a silver chain were among the items. She was willing to bet that these were souvenirs Stephen Brant kept. Monsters like Brant enjoyed reliving their moments of torture through the personal mementos of their victims. Sadie fingered two braided friendship bracelets and wondered if they’d belonged to the murdered thirteen-year-olds, Tanya and Ashley. With a sigh Sadie closed the box and placed it back on the shelf. Then she called Petrovich and left him a voice mail telling him of her discovery and the banishment for Stephen Brant.

Sadie, Louise, and the Thingvolds left the Sunnyside Avenue house, closing the door behind them for good. Out on the street, Sadie waved good-bye to the three with a promise she’d buy them all dinner sometime soon. She waited for Louise to pull her Mini Cooper out from behind her, and then Sadie put her little car in reverse. As she was backing up she noticed Bertrude Brant peering at her from between the drapes of the living room next door. The woman looked woefully dejected and forlorn. Sadie almost felt sorry for her. She’d lost both her husband and her daughter.

Sadie pulled off of Sunnyside Avenue and was glad to leave it behind. She drove a little way to Revolutions Espresso & Bakery on Woodlawn and enjoyed a latte while she ticked off that first item on her list and prepared for item number two.

An hour later, Sadie drove out of Green Lake and to the Eastside. She pointed her vehicle down the 405 toward Renton. She sat in her vehicle for twenty minutes in the parking lot of the Whispering Groves Drug Rehab Center before she had enough nerve to enter.

Once inside she was directed to a small office where Zack was already waiting. She’d called ahead, but they had made no guarantees he’d want a visitor. When he saw Sadie, though, he jumped to his feet and rushed to pull her into his arms.

“I am so sorry,” he breathed into her hair.

“I know.” She tightened her hug. They broke apart and smiled sheepishly at one another. “And thanks for rescuing me. Again,” she said with a smile.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Zack said, but he added, “Just promise me you won’t be needing any more rescuing for a few weeks. I’m going to be here a while.”

His voice was lucid, concise, and clear, and it brought tears to her eyes.

“I promise.” Sadie made a cross-my-heart motion and they both laughed.

They walked and got a bad cup of coffee from the lounge area of the facility. Before Sadie left, she promised to bring him a cup of espresso on her next visit.

When they hugged good-bye, Sadie’s voice broke. “I just wanted you to know that when you’re done here, you can move back in, if you’d like.”

He pulled away from her.

“I was thinking maybe we should start over,” Zack said. “We’ve never actually dated. I think I should get my own place and we should go out on real dates. Dinners. Movies. Like a real couple. A normal couple.”

Sadie smiled. “I’d like that.”

When she was back in her vehicle, Sadie happily ticked off that second item on her agenda and with a deep breath headed toward the location of that third and final item.

She called her mom and asked her to put on a pot of coffee. But once inside the house of her youth, Sadie began having second thoughts. Maybe she should come back another day. Or another week.

“I made banana bread this morning,” Mom said.

Happily bustling about, Mom put the thick slices onto a plate and took the plate into the living room with Sadie carrying the coffee cups behind her.

“Or would you rather eat in the kitchen?” Mom asked, stopping abruptly.

“Here’s fine,” Sadie said, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Well, eat then. You can’t just live on coffee, you know,” Mom reprimanded. “You’re already too skinny.”

Sadie smiled at her mom and chose a slice of banana bread and took a big bite. It was nice to see her mom trying so hard, but Sadie’s heart fell when she couldn’t see her dad’s spirit anywhere.

“Well?” her mom was asking.

“Oh. It’s delicious,” Sadie said. “You’ve always made the perfect banana bread. Whenever I’ve tried to make it on my own, it comes out too dry.”

“That’s because you’ve never asked me for my recipe. I have a secret ingredient, you know.”

“Really?”

“I add a quarter cup of plain yogurt,” her mom explained. Suddenly she was back on her feet. “How about I write out the full recipe for you?”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to do that.”

“Nonsense; it’ll just take me a couple minutes. Every woman should have a recipe for good banana bread.” She ran back to the kitchen.

Sadie swallowed another mouthful of banana bread and then got to her feet. She paced around the living room and softly called for her father. She’d been looking for him since she arrived but hadn’t had any luck. She was beginning to think number three on her list would have to wait, but then finally there he was. His image had even managed to come all the way over.

“Dad!” Sadie exclaimed. Her heart jumped joyfully in her chest. “And look at you, fully formed and everything. You didn’t leave a single part of you behind this time.”

“That’s because I finally figured out what was keeping me here.” He walked over to her mother’s antique sideboard in the corner of the room and opened and closed a drawer. “And I’ve had to fine-tune my talents.”

Sadie nodded in amazement. It wasn’t often that ghosts managed to connect with objects, let alone move them and use them, unless they’d stayed in limbo for a helluva long time. Like Mr. Ugly’s ghost.

“That’s really impressive,” Sadie said, and meant it, but she was confused. “So that’s what’s been keeping you here? The fact that you needed to learn to use objects?”

“No.” He shook his head. “What’s been keeping me here is you.”

“Oh.” Sadie frowned sadly. “I know, Dad. I’m so sorry, and that’s why I’m here—”

“You don’t get it, Sadie,” he interrupted. “Hold on a second.” He went to the living room window and glanced outside and then rushed over to her. “You see, you are the reason I’ve been in limbo because you’re important.”

“Aw-w-w, thanks, Dad,” Sadie said, feeling emotional.

“Not just to me,” Dad continued hurriedly. “You’re important to—” He stopped talking and rapidly jumped in front of Sadie.

Suddenly, the living room window exploded, and a large rock landed at Sadie’s feet.

She screamed and her mother came rushing into the room.

“Sadie!” Mom exclaimed. “What happened?”

A woman’s shape appeared in the broken window.

“Bertrude!” Sadie exclaimed. “What the hell are you doing?”

Bertrude Brant held a glass bottle in one hand. The bottle was filled with a clear liquid and had a soaked rag protruding from the end. In her other hand she held a lighter.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone!” Bertrude shrieked.

“I’m calling the cops,” Mom said.

“Don’t move!” Bertrude screamed. “I’ve got enough of these babies to light you both up like the fourth of July.”

Sadie glanced behind Bertrude and saw she did indeed have backup bottles. Enough to light up every room in the house and even a car or two.

“You blew up my car and set fire to my warehouse. It was you all along!” Sadie cried.

Out of the corner of her eye Sadie saw her dad walking to the oak sideboard. He opened the drawer and pulled out his old revolver. Sadie was trying her hardest not to look his way and draw attention to the fact that a gun would appear to be floating in midair.

“You destroyed my life!” Bertrude screamed. “Mimi and I had it all worked out to get rid of Stephen. I fed him the pills and then brought him to Mimi’s. She did the rest and everything was hunky-dory. Sure, there was some worry because she bought the videotapes as a fluke, but it made no never mind until that stupid Paula had to start getting rid of Mimi’s stuff.” She shook her head. “Kids ain’t got no respect for all you do for them, you know?”

Bertrude looked at Peggy Novak as if expecting some sort of agreement that kids were all ungrateful slobs, but Peggy’s gaze was on the corner of the room. Her eyes were wide in wonder. Bertrude glanced over to see what Peggy was looking at, and the second she turned to face Sadie’s dad, he shot her square in the chest. Sadie dove and managed to catch the glass bottle in Bertrude’s hand before it crashed on the floor.

There was a chaotic moment filled with Mom’s screaming and Sadie and her dad just breathing heavily.

“Thanks, Dad,” Sadie exclaimed.

With a whoosh of breath she stared down at Bertrude Brant, who looked quite dead.

“That’s what I was sent to do,” he said proudly.

“I—I saw a gun,” Mom stammered. “Your father’s gun. The one he—he kept in the sideboard. But—but . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know how . . . but it got out of the drawer and . . . and it floated. It shot that woman but . . . but nobody was holding it.” Her eyes were wild.

“Sit down, Mom,” Sadie said. She brought her mother into the kitchen and sat her down gently at the table. “You think about it, and I’m sure you’ll figure out what really happened.” She patted her mom’s shoulder. “I’ve got to call the police.”

Sadie stayed with her mom until Petrovich had taken their statements, the coroner had removed Bertrude Brant’s body, and the glass company had repaired the window. When Peggy Novak gave her statement, she spoke slowly and carefully. She told the detective how she’d gotten her husband’s gun from the sideboard when Bertrude Brant broke the window and she’d shot the woman when she wouldn’t put down the bottle.

“Works for me,” Petrovich said, snapping his notebook shut.

Sadie had Dawn come and get their mother. She knew her mom wouldn’t want to be alone for the night. Once everyone was gone and the house was quiet, Sadie called out for her father.

“Dad? Dad, please come back,” Sadie begged.

“I’m right here,” he replied.

She sighed with relief when he appeared to her, sitting casually in his favorite chair.

“I thought you’d moved on without me,” she told him.

“Well, I do have to go, hon,” he said quietly. “I can’t stay here. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” she said in a small, little-girl voice.

“But first I need to finish what I was saying to you. I was kept here to save you because you are so important.”

“You mean a lot to me too,” Sadie replied.

“I don’t mean just to me,” he said seriously. “You’re important to the universe. To the scheme of things. To . . .” He looked up dramatically.

“What do you mean?” Sadie asked warily.

“I mean, you help spirits move on, those who get stuck and need to have things taken care of down here. It’s a really important job. You’re one of the chosen few who have been asked to do this—”

“The chosen few?” Sadie asked, shaking her head in confusion. “Dad, I’m the only one I know who—”

“You’re not the only one. There are others. One day you’ll meet them but, for now, it’s important that you keep doing what you’re doing.”

Suddenly his image began to fade.

“Dad?” Her voice caught in her throat.

“I love you, hon. You’re a good girl,” her dad said, his voice sounding distant. “Tell your mom she was the love of my life and I’m keeping her side of the bed warm in heaven.” His voice was a small echo now, coming from far away. “Keep on helping spirits. What you do is important. Never forget that.”

Then his spirit shape dissipated to almost nothing. A glowing shimmer appeared around the edges of his form before his image evaporated forever.

Sadie reached into her pocket and pulled out her list. Carefully she checked off number three.