Dead Suite Part 15

He smiled. "Then you should always wear it. Everyone needs a little luck."

The elevator came to a stop. As the doors slid open, Herbert reached into his pocket and pressed the bottle of holy water into her hands.

Sadie looked up at him in surprise.

"Use this to keep you safe," he said evenly. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes intently.

Sadie thanked him before allowing him to zip swiftly out of the lobby ahead of her.

She was walking to her van when an unmarked car sped past her and rounded the corner to the alley.

"d.a.m.n! I forgot to call off the dogs," she muttered and broke into a run, with her shoes pinching her feet as she went.

She reached her van just in time to see Petrovich climbing out of his car and eyeing her quizzically.

"What's the emergency?" he called out. "I couldn't make heads or tails over what you were saying on your message."

"Sorry." Sadie held up her phone. "I was just about to call you." She quick-stepped up to where he was waiting beside her van. "I heard someone in the room upstairs." She indicated the upper floors of the Pacifica with a wave of her hand. "I thought maybe the killer returning to the scene of the crime and all that."

"Who was it?" he asked.

"n.o.body really."

Sadie hesitated. Should she tell Petrovich an ex-priest was cleansing the room with holy water? She shook her head and decided against it. Herbert Sylvane only appeared guilty of Catholic guilt. Suddenly, she put a hand on the van because she felt momentarily unsteady on her feet.

"n.o.body? Are you sure?"

"False alarm."

No need to get Herbert Sylvane interrogated for sprinkling holy water, and no use in getting Petrovich more annoyed than he already was.

"So, you're all done here then?"

Sadie said she was and Petrovich opened his mouth as if to say more, then slammed his jaw shut. His eyes grew hard and he pushed Sadie away from where she stood against the hood of the van.

"Somebody's left you another present."

Sadie looked with dismay to see a clear Ziploc baggie once again under her winds.h.i.+eld.

"Just once it would be nice to get diamonds," she said. "Or even a coffee gift card, you know?"

Petrovich shushed her and ordered her to stay put while he went back to his vehicle and called in the crime-scene techies who'd take over.

"You've still got my car and now you're going to take my van?" Sadie shouted.

"We're done processing your Corolla. I'll get one of the guys to drive it over here, since they're on their way anyway."

Although it was highly irregular, Petrovich put in the request and then once again stepped forward to join Sadie by her van. She'd turned her back so she didn't have to look at it, but Petrovich was staring hard enough for both of them.

"Looks like there are two," he muttered under his breath.

"Two what?" Sadie asked, knowing the answer but hoping he'd come back and say something upbeat like I saw two kittens, or puppies, or cute shoes . . . anything but- "Fingers," he said. "Near as I can tell without picking up the d.a.m.n bag, it looks like there are two fingers in that bag."

"Oh G.o.d." Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. "So now we've got three fingers and four bodies."

"Four?"

"Counting Marlene. I know you've only found three girls, but if her ghost is around, there's got to be a dead Marlene somewhere."

Petrovich rubbed his eyes. "I asked Bev Hummel to check her employee records and n.o.body named Marlene worked here in housekeeping or otherwise." He turned and faced Sadie. "Could you be wrong?"

"About the ghost named Marlene telling me a serial killer is slaughtering women for my benefit and won't stop until I'm dead?" Sadie smirked. "As fun as that sounds, I didn't make that up for entertainment value because my life is boring."

"I know, but maybe your wires are crossed or something." He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared. "I don't know how this thing you do works, but I'm guessing it's not science. I can't see it, touch it, or smell it, so I can't go building a case around it, you got me?"

"Yeah," Sadie said, unenthusiastically.

"That doesn't mean I don't respect you as a person. You're the best blood-'n'-guts person in the business and I know you've helped me when the occasional"-he paused, searching for the word-"otherworldly thing needed to be dealt with, so what I'm trying to say is this." He placed his hands on Sadie's shoulders and looked hard into her eyes. "Be safe. Do what you gotta do to protect yourself. Maybe take a holiday until we catch this guy."

"I hear Hawaii's beautiful this time of year." Sadie sniffed back tears. "Too bad I can hardly afford to go around the block."

"Then stay home and watch TV for a few days," he suggested. "Stay in bed with Zack. I'm sure he'd find that a real hards.h.i.+p."

Sadie bit back tears. "Do you have any leads yet?" Her voice broke slightly, so she cleared her throat.

Petrovich blew out a breath and hesitated before answering. "Blood samples show the girls were drugged with a c.o.c.ktail containing Rohypnol and other stuff."

"The date-rape drug?" Sadie nodded. That explained why the ghosts had no idea what happened to them. "So some guy is dragging drugged prost.i.tutes through elegant hotel lobbies and n.o.body sees a thing?"

"I'm thinking he had them meet him in the hotel rooms and drugged them there. We've gone over the security tapes from both hotels and don't see anybody who looks the same at both locations, and we don't even see the girls coming and going. He could've disguised them. Had them wear wigs. Had them dress as men . . . anything."

"That would make more sense than him sneaking drugged hookers through the lobby," Sadie agreed.

"That's the thing with these cla.s.sy-a.s.sed places," Petrovich grumbled. "There are security cameras everywhere. Still we got zilch. The girls don't show up on the videos as entering the hotels."

"And both hotels are owned by Torpor. You knew that?"

He nodded. "Torpor Inc. owns both hotels. Could be coincidental or not."

"Oh! I just remembered." Sadie clapped her hands together. "WATS."

"Whats?"

"W-A-T-S," she said, spelling it out. "It stands for Women Against the Streets. All three women-May, Opal, and Olivia-got help from there."

"And you know this because?"

"They told me," Sadie replied.

"Of course they did." Petrovich released a world-weary sigh not unlike the one often released by Sadie's own mother.

"It's an organization that helps keep working girls safe. They keep a list of bad johns and things like that. I'm sure every hooker in the greater Seattle area has gone there at one time or another, but hey, thought you'd want to know."

"Sure. Might as well throw one more needle into one more haystack."

Sadie felt hurt. She was only trying to help.

"I do appreciate it anyhow," Petrovich added quickly. "Just wish we'd catch this screwball before he gets someone else. The mayor is breathing down our necks 'cause he's worried about scaring tourists away." He narrowed his eyes at Sadie. "Speaking of scaring business away, what's this I hear about you on some video that's all over the freakin' place?"

Sadie's head dropped until her chin was at her chest. "You know about it?"

"Everyone knows about it."

"Rosemary Thingvold thought a video would be good publicity for Madam Maeva's," she mumbled. "I had no idea she was even taking it."

"It was all a mock-up, right?" Petrovich asked. "That door swinging open and you falling to the ground and being pulled backward across the floor toward some crazy pimped-up horror closet . . . You guys faked that with special effects and all?"

Sadie weighed exactly how much Petrovich's a.n.a.lytical cop brain could handle and replied, "Sure."

"I got a big kick out of some of the comments saying if you play it slow you see a ghost in the closet." He shook his head and laughed. "Reminded me of how we all used to play records backward looking for the secret message."

Sadie chuckled along with Petrovich but her mind was thinking she really needed to take a closer look at that video.

The investigation team came in their big black vehicle and began bagging and tagging everything in, on, and around Sadie's van. Another guy rolled up minutes later driving Sadie's Corolla.

Sadie asked Petrovich if she was cleared to leave.

"Yeah, go ahead. I know where to find you."

Sadie thanked him and walked to her car just as the CSI guy who'd driven it there was climbing out.

"Hey, I think you're up to nearly a million hits." He tossed Sadie's keys to her. "Congratulations."

"Um, thanks?" She climbed behind the wheel of her car just as her cell phone rang. It was Bev Hummel's number. Sadie glanced around at the chaos that was spilling from the back alley and now jamming up traffic in front of the hotel. The media vans were also pulling up. No doubt the manager of the Pacifica was wondering what the h.e.l.l was going on. Sadie figured it wouldn't hurt to let the call go to voice mail and deal with it later.

When Sadie pulled up to her house she knew immediately her day was heading from frying pan to fire. Parked in her driveway was Maeva's car, as well as the Thingvolds' Mini Cooper. Maeva had a spare key to Sadie's place and must've let herself inside. Sadie was tired and didn't want to deal with her friends, so that was bad enough. However, parked in front of the house was a Channel 11 news van. Sadie had slowed her car as she pa.s.sed by, but now she hit the accelerator before anyone could see her. She zoomed down the street and around the corner, then parked in a back alley and pulled out her phone.

Maeva answered on the first ring.

"Why does my driveway look like Grand Central?" Sadie demanded.

"You didn't return my calls and we need to talk."

"I was working. I planned on calling you after I napped and showered," Sadie explained. "What's with the news van?"

"It showed up shortly after we got here. We were waiting for you in the driveway, but when reporters began asking Rosemary questions I thought it might be a good idea to get everyone inside."

"Good call. The last thing I need is to have her adding fuel to the fire. I imagine they're at my house because they heard about the new fingers found on my van at the Pacifica," Sadie said. "Then again, maybe they're there because of the gazillion hits on that video that's sure to ruin my life."

"I know you're angry about the video. I was p.i.s.sed too," Maeva said. "But we wanted to get together to talk to you about it."

Sadie weighed her limited options.

"I'm still really ticked off at Rosemary. She had no right to post what happened at Halladay Street on YouTube. I don't know if I feel like talking to her about it."

"Her heart was in the right place."

"Maybe, but her brain had obviously left her bald little head," Sadie said, sulking. "Fine. We can meet to talk about it, but first I need you to take care of Hairy. I haven't been home since yesterday."

"Rosemary's been playing with the little guy," Maeva said. "And gave him some fresh water."

"Good. Could you top up his kibble and give him a couple yogurt yummies? If I've got any carrots left in the fridge, give him one of those too. Where can we meet?"

"A coffee shop somewhere might be best."

Sadie gave it some thought and then suggested the Zoka Coffee Roaster & Tea House in Green Lake. "And make sure you don't bring the paparazzi with you," Sadie warned.

"Give us half an hour," Maeva said, and they ended the call.

Sadie had wanted to spend the majority of her day snuggled up on her sofa with her pet bunny. She'd planned a marathon of TV watching and junk-food eating and now she couldn't even set foot in her own home. It did little to improve her mood when there wasn't even decent parking within a block of Zoka's and it started to rain. She was forced to park way down Keystone Place and jog back up to Fifty-Sixth. When she walked into the coffee shop, all stresses briefly faded away at the welcoming smell of espresso. A true Seattleite didn't get jittery from too much coffee. Instead, it was as comforting as mother's milk.

Sadie took her order of a macchiato and bagel and, hoping for a seat, glanced around the room filled with wooden tables and chairs. Finally she scored a table against the wall in a quieter corner and settled in to wait. It was one full macchiato, a bagel, and then a scone later that Maeva and Rosemary blew through the front doors of the coffee house. Sadie waved them over.

"Sorry it took so long," Maeva said, peeling off her drenched jacket. "I wanted to drop off Osbert with Terry first."

"It had the bonus effect of throwing the camera crew off our trail, though. They followed us to Maeva's but when they saw us go inside with the baby they left," Rosemary said, offering Sadie a sweet smile. She sat down in the chair opposite and hung the strap of her laptop off the back of her chair.

Maeva got up to get coffees for herself and Rosemary. Once she was out of earshot, Sadie glared at Rosemary.

"You sure know how to rock the boat," Sadie said in a half whisper, pointing an accusing finger at Rosemary.

"I know." Rosemary glanced down and sheepishly drew circles on the wooden table with the tip of her finger. "I didn't do it on purpose. I swear. I just meant to upload a video as an example of a seance performed by Madam Maeva's. I had no idea it would attract this level of attention."

Sadie sighed. "Do you have any idea what this could do to my business? Scene-2-Clean is being held together literally by my sweat and other people's blood! I'm just trying to keep a respectable trauma-clean company afloat. If word gets out that I'm ghost hunting . . . well, this could ruin me!"

"I hope that won't happen," Rosemary said sincerely, and she rubbed her bald head distractedly as she spoke. "I only recorded things to show what Madam Maeva's could offer in the way of private services." She stole a look toward Maeva still in the coffee lineup and then leaned in to say to Sadie, "Maeva hasn't recouped her powers since having the baby, and it's been hard on her. I just want the business to thrive so it's one last thing for her to worry about."

"I know." Sadie knew in her heart of hearts that crazy ol' Rosemary really did only want to do good; she hadn't wanted to show Sadie in a bad light with peed pants while being devoured by a closet. "I haven't had time to really a.n.a.lyze the video so I should probably not be so hard on you."

"You haven't seen it?" Maeva asked, sounding dumbfounded. She put coffees on the table for herself and Rosemary. "Haven't you been at all curious what the fuss is about?"

"I did see it. Gayla couldn't wait to show me what she was p.i.s.sed about, but I didn't have a chance to really go through it. I've been a tad busy cleaning up after a serial killer and having fingers left as little presents on my window."

"Fingers as in plural?" Maeva asked. "I thought it was just one."

"It happened again, just a couple hours ago when I was leaving the Pacifica. This time two fingers." Sadie narrowed her eyes at Rosemary. "And that little tidbit stays between us. Do not be posting it anywhere on the Internet, because Detective Petrovich would lock both of us up for interfering in his investigation."

Rosemary held her hands up. "No worries. I've learned my lesson." She dragged out her laptop and put it on the table. "And speaking of that, you should watch the video again. It takes a few times before you can absorb everything going on."