Dead Suite Part 14

"I wasn't. Not really," Sadie said, smiling back. "I'm mostly finished but needed to catch some sleep before I left."

"You're cleaning next door, right?" He nodded in the direction of the connecting room.

"Yes," Sadie replied. "Mostly done now."

"I heard it was awful. Like a horror movie." He smiled when he said it, like most people who sensationalized crime scenes into a Hollywood movie format in their minds.

"It was sad. Very sad," Sadie answered, and that wiped the bright smile off his face. "Could you let Ms. Hummel know that I'll be down to see her shortly?"

He nodded and made his way to the door.

Sadie went to her purse and dragged out some bills for a tip.

"By the way, do you remember a young woman, possibly a teen, who worked in housekeeping named Marlene?" Sadie asked, handing him a couple dollars.

"No, I don't think so." He shook his head. "There was a Marlene who was a waitress last year but she wasn't young. Maybe thirtyish like you." He blushed, realizing his blunder. "Not that you're not young, I mean-"

"No worries." Sadie rescued him. "Are you sure there isn't a Marlene working here as a maid?"

"I know all the housekeeping staff, and I've never met a Marlene," he said, and his c.o.c.ky smile said if there was a young woman within a mile radius his p.e.n.i.s GPS would've found her. "I've been here two years now. Maybe it was before that?"

After he was gone Sadie dressed again in the skirt and blouse she'd worn when she arrived. She made sure the bins were prepared for staff to load and bring down to her van via the freight elevator, and then she packed her belongings in her suitcase. Then Sadie settled down to sip coffee and nibble a warm croissant spread with strawberry preserves. It wasn't often she got the five-star treatment. It was too bad people had to die for it to happen.

She scrolled through her messages and noted a number of text messages from Maeva, who'd obviously been surprised and upset by the uploaded Internet video. A night of hard work and a few hours of sleep made Sadie think the video was less of a big deal. She didn't reply to all of Maeva's comments about the video because that felt like a lengthy conversation. She did tell her she would be home shortly and would call her later.

Bev Hummel greeted Sadie in her office with a wide smile, as if they were long-lost friends.

"You're all done?" she asked.

"Mostly," Sadie replied, taking a chair across from her. "I will leave the ozone generator in the room for at least another day or two to allow them to make sure the air is perfect. If you could ask your staff to bring the bins down, I'll meet them at my van."

Bev picked up her phone and placed the request to the staff to do as Sadie asked.

"Can I send in the repairmen to take care of carpeting and wall repairs?"

"Yes," Sadie said. "And as I mentioned before, the mattress will need to be replaced but the other furniture was all salvageable."

"Great." Bev Hummel clapped her hands. "I'll be thrilled when this entire unfortunate event is behind us." She got to her feet, announcing the meeting over. "Thanks for taking care of this so quickly. I appreciate it."

Sadie hesitated at the door.

"By the way, I think a friend's daughter worked here as a housekeeper. . . . Marlene? Did you know her?"

Bev Hummel looked thoughtful.

"The name isn't familiar. Are you sure it was Marlene?"

"I might've gotten it wrong," Sadie admitted. "If it's okay with you, I'll hang on to the room keys until I get the rest of the equipment in a couple days."

Bev agreed, and Sadie strolled off through the exquisite lobby, pulling her suitcase behind her, and exited the front doors with a nod to the uniformed doorman. She tugged her case down the b.u.mpy sidewalk and around the corner toward the delivery entrance. She was at her van just as three men arrived with hand dollies stacked with Stericycle bins. Sadie unlocked the van and rolled up the back door so they could load the supplies. She wished she could also bring the help with her to her storage unit, where she'd be unloading the hazardous material until she scheduled a waste pickup. Her aching muscles could use the help.

The three Pacifica employees who were charged with the task of wheeling down the multiple bins of blood-sodden debris and hoisting it into the back of her van now rewarded themselves with a smoke break behind the building.

"Thanks," Sadie called out, offering them a wave as she tossed her small suitcase in the back and then rolled the back door down with a slam and locked it.

"No problem," one called back.

Sadie took a couple steps toward the driver's door and then walked back to the clutch of young guys leaning casually against the brown brick next to the ma.s.sive Dumpsters. If Marlene had been on the staff before getting killed, maybe they'd remember her.

"I wonder if any of you know my friend's daughter," Sadie began. "I thought she worked here in housekeeping. Her name's Marlene?"

Each of them shrugged in turn and shook their heads.

"Sure, I know a Marlene who cleans rooms, but not at this hotel," one with red hair and freckles responded as he dragged hard on his cigarette.

"Okay. Thanks anyway." Sadie turned to go.

"Yeah, she works at the Eminence, not here."

Sadie slowly turned back to the group.

"The Bay Eminence? That really modern tower on the waterfront?"

"Yup," he replied. "I work part time at both."

"That isn't Marlene," one of the other guys piped up. "You're thinking of Maxine."

Freckle-faced guy finished his smoke and ground it under the toe of his shoe before nodding. "You're right. Maxine. Blonde with big . . ." He held his hands in front of his chest.

"Right. Got it. So, you work at both hotels?" Sadie tilted her head. "That isn't a conflict of interest?"

Sure, it might seem ridiculous that this lackey might smuggle the deep dark secrets of each luxury hotel and sell it to the highest bidder, but hey, there had to be fierce compet.i.tion for the wallets of Seattle's tourists.

"They're sisters," he replied with a shrug.

"Yeah," added his friend, flicking his cigarette b.u.t.t into the alley behind the van. "Our paychecks are from Torpor Inc. The company owns a lot of hotels."

"Torpor," Sadie repeated slowly and then slapped her palm to her forehead. "Now I remember. They were in the news a few years ago determined to own one historic hotel and one ritzy modern one in each major city in the world, right?"

With a nod of disinterest they told her they needed to head back to work. Sadie found herself wondering if Petrovich realized the hotels were owned by the same company. He wouldn't be much of a detective if he hadn't connected those dots, but she still felt she needed to update him about the connection the three dead women had to Women Against the Streets. She reached for her phone but it wasn't in any of her usually designated pockets. She began searching the large purse she'd received from Maeva, but it wasn't there.

"d.a.m.n."

Sadie rubbed the back of her neck wearily. She must've left it in the hotel room.

Instead of heading back around the front of the building and posing as a businesswoman in her skirt and pumps, Sadie saved her feet the anguish and cut through the back exit the workers just entered.

She followed a long hall to a bank of service elevators, then hopped on one that was open and rode it up to her floor. Within a minute she was using her room key to enter the safe zone room and had located her phone, which was waiting expectantly on the small round table next to the coffee carafe.

Snapping up her cell, Sadie made to exit when a sound in the adjoining room stopped her short. She cozied up to the connecting door and listened. A male's voice spoke loudly over the hum of the air purification machine but his words were indistinguishable through the wooden door.

There shouldn't have been anyone inside that room until after she'd cleared it by removing the ozone generator. Sadie fidgeted nervously. Everyone knows that murderers love to return to the scene of their crimes. Sadie couldn't help but wonder if Opal and Olivia's slasher had returned to relive the moment. A chill swept up Sadie's spine. She glanced longingly at her purse, wis.h.i.+ng she'd had the forethought to pack her pepper spray, but she'd left it in her bedroom after a.s.saulting Zack.

Looking around the room, she searched for something she could use as a weapon. Nothing. Her feet ached as a reminder that she was in heels and would be no match in a race from a homicidal maniac. Unless she took them off. She slipped her feet out of the spiky shoes and realized she had her weapon.

Not a fool with a desire to confront a finger-cutting, slas.h.i.+ng homicidal maniac on her own, Sadie dialed Petrovich and was greeted by his voice mail. She whispered intensely, "I can hear a man in the murder room at the Pacifica. I'm going in. Send help!"

She also called down to hotel security and, in a whisper, told them to send someone up to the room. She tossed her purse and one shoe silently onto the bed and with one pump raised high she slowly, carefully, and every so noiselessly turned the door handle.

Abruptly, she decided to use the element of surprise. She threw the door open and lunged onto the back of a tall man facing away from her. With a shrieking battle cry she wrapped her arms around his neck in a death grip as she pounded him with her shoe, screaming, "Drop your weapon or I'll shoot!"

Chapter 11.

The man spun around and fell backward onto the hotel bed with Sadie still on his back. She lost her grip around his neck and he leapt to his feet, panting and wide-eyed as a white plastic object dropped from his hand.

"Herbert Sylvane?" Sadie struggled to a sitting position, eyed him up and down, and determined he had no weapon. She glanced around the room and could see nothing had been disturbed. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing here?"

The manager of the Bay Eminence Hotel smoothed his dark suit as his breath came in ragged gasps as if he'd just run a marathon.

"I should ask you the same question," he said formally. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a tissue, and dabbed at his head delicately. The tissue came away red from a small gash. "I think you punctured my head with your shoe!"

"I should've aimed for your heart!" she exclaimed, not at all certain she had the stomach to stab a man to death with her black pumps. "You know exactly why I'm here." Sadie fisted her hands on her hips and glowered. "I was hired to clean here. I doubt you can say the same. You killed them, didn't you?" she demanded. "You killed them and came back to visit your sick, twisted handiwork!"

"What! N-no!" he shouted in response. "Are you crazy?"

His eyes went to the floor and the object he dropped earlier. Sadie's gaze followed his and together they lunged for the bottle.

Sadie's fingers reached it first. She held the bottle, containing a clear liquid, up to her face and read the label.

"Holy water?" Her jaw dropped. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I used to be a priest." Herbert rocked nervously from one foot to the other. "Someone evil came into this room and did terrible things to those poor women and-" He looked her in the eyes defiantly. "Well, I just had to try and get rid of it."

"Rid of what? The evil?"

Sadie glanced down at the bottle again. Nowhere on it did it state it could cleanse a room of evil spirits and/or murderers. However, she realized with dismay that she'd been known to rely on the healing powers of smudging, cleansing, and yes, even holy water in the past. She tossed the bottle back to him and he caught it deftly in midair.

"How did you get in?"

"Bev let me into the room." He looked sheepish. "I asked her to let me know when you were done. She's a good Catholic. I convinced her I'd be quick and no one would even know I was here."

Just then a sharp knock sounded at the door and male voice shouted, "Open up! Hotel security!"

Sadie went to the door, opened it and told them it was a false alarm. "I heard someone in this room and didn't realize Ms. Hummel had given permission," she explained.

They looked beyond her and nodded h.e.l.lo to Herbert Sylvane.

After they were gone, she told Herbert, "I'd told Bev I was done so I guess she didn't think I'd be back so soon. I just came back for my cell phone." Sadie sighed and ran her hand through her short-cropped hair. Her heart had slowed its rapid beating in her chest. "You scared the h.e.l.l out of me."

"Me? I thought you were the murderer, here to attack me!" he cried. "I'm surprised I didn't drop dead from a heart attack."

They looked at each other and burst into laughter.

"I've got to know . . . ," Sadie began. "You're no longer a priest. Why'd you leave a n.o.ble calling like that to work at a hotel?"

"It's an age-old story, really. I was young and I fell in love. Decided to leave the church and get married." He looked sad. "She left me a couple years later for someone else."

"I'm sorry."

He dabbed his head again with the tissue and winced.

"I guess old habits die hard. I was careful not to touch or interfere with anything you've done here," he said. "I just wanted to be sure that whatever evil intent remained was also cleaned up." He cringed visibly. "To you, that probably sounds a little out-there."

"Hey, you can never be too careful when dealing with evil," Sadie acknowledged wisely. "So, were you done? Or do you still need to sprinkle some more?"

"If you don't mind?" He held the bottle up.

"Knock yourself out."

She watched as he walked about the room, sprinkling drops of water at various locations and quietly murmuring.

"By the power of G.o.d Almighty, I command evil powers to leave here forever and be consigned into the everlasting lake of fire, and may they never again touch any creature in the entire world." He flung more water around the room and after words in Latin and some serious prayers he concluded with, "Peace be to this place and to all who enter here in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Instinctively Sadie genuflected and repeated, "Amen."

She thought seriously about asking him to sprinkle a little holy water on her as well, but that would require a longer explanation about what she'd been up to. Sadie slipped her shoes back onto her feet and they left the room and walked down the hall toward the elevator together.

"The job you do . . . cleaning up all that kind of unG.o.dly mess. . . . How do you do it? Don't you get scared?" Herbert asked in a tone just over a whisper.

"Yes," Sadie replied, just as quietly. "Yes, I do."

"Then why do you do it?" He stepped forward to press the call b.u.t.ton for the elevator.

Sadie wondered if he'd seen the Internet video and was asking about her ghost dealings but decided he was more likely asking about cleaning up after murderers. Both had their equally terrifying moments. After a moment she simply replied, "Somebody has to do it. Somebody has to make sure people aren't traumatized twice."

When the elevator arrived they walked inside. Sadie smoothed her clothes, which had become crumpled in her wrestling match. Herbert Sylvane watched her and leaned in to take hold of the pendant around her neck.

"Carnalem concupiscentiam est insatiabilis," he said, reading the inscription aloud.

"It's some kind of good-luck charm given to me by a client," Sadie said with a shrug.