Dead Suite Part 24

She reached into the bottom of the backpack and produced a foot-long tapered piece of wood that was rubbed to a high gleam. Gayla tossed the wand to the middle of the other products, then walked over to Sadie. Using a swift slicing motion she cut through the twine that tied her feet and wrists and then finally untied the scarf from around Sadie's mouth.

She pointed the tip of the knife to Sadie's lips and said fiercely, "No funny business! If we can get rid of the haunting here, I'll sell the place and be out of Seattle for good. I talked to the realty agent and he already has an interested party."

"Wh-what do you want me to do?" Sadie asked, her voice coming out in a tremulous whisper.

"Whatever works, obviously!" Gayla shouted. "Banish the demons! You should be able to connect at a higher level with the drugs I gave you. When I was at that convention where I saw Maeva speak about you, another attendee told me she drinks this c.o.c.ktail and it makes all the difference in her connection to spirits. You obviously need help here. Lord knows I've tried myself, but I'm still learning. I thought this house was going to be a cakewalk."

She paced the room, throwing her hands up in the air. "I made a small fortune buying houses n.o.body else would touch because they were haunted." She drew air quotes around the word haunted and laughed. "My investment partner is so into all this s.h.i.+t, so I attended a few cla.s.ses on witchcraft and dealing with the paranormal and found that it's been easier to get rid of ghosts than c.o.c.kroaches." She turned and stared solemnly at the closet in the corner of the room. "But, apparently, I met my match with this one." She shook her head slowly. "And I lost my s.h.i.+rt with the housing crash. I'd make enough with this place to start a new life and get the h.e.l.l out of Dodge. We have a buyer on the hook willing to pay cash, but he's superst.i.tious and won't touch it until it's cleared of ghosts."

Gayla blew out an exasperated breath. "I'd just about given up but then I remembered your name coming up at that workshop I told you about." She turned and smiled at Sadie. "All it took was painting your name on the wall, and Rosemary couldn't wait to get you here. You should be flattered that your psychic friends think so highly of your ability. Personally, I find the fact that you're reluctant to even admit that you do spiritual cleansing to be aggravating."

"So you're a psychic?" Sadie asked, trying to wrap her mind around what Gayla was saying. "And you work with Owen to kill prost.i.tutes and buy houses?"

Gayla's jaw dropped and she looked at Sadie like she was stupid.

"You really aren't the sharpest pencil in the box, are you?" She shook her head. "Never mind. I don't have time to explain it, and trust me when I say you don't want to be thinking about the hooker killings. Just deal with this house and I can be on my way."

Sadie realized that Gayla did not say we can be on our way. She made it clear that she would be the one leaving. No doubt Sadie would be left for Owen to deal with. But maybe she could buy a little time if she did what she was asked, or at least made a good show of trying to get rid of Iris's ghost.

"Can I just ask why, if the ghost is Iris, does she wear a housekeeper uniform that says Marlene on it?"

"Is that what you see?" Gayla frowned. "Now I'm beginning to understand why you couldn't get rid of her. You didn't even know the ghost you were trying to move on. That's it, isn't it?" she demanded. "I've met mediums before that needed to know the details of a spirit before they could help them. That's you, isn't it?"

Sadie regarded Gayla's wild stare and flinched. "Yes," Sadie said. Which was a lie because she didn't need to know the spirits at all. "So you don't see Iris in a housekeeper's outfit?"

Gayla shook her head. "I see a vague outline of her shape. No clothing." She looked thoughtful. "From what I've been told, Iris died wearing her theatre costume. She was in some play."

"At Stone Soup?"

Gayla shrugged.

"And Lester Pacheo? How is he connected to May, Opal, and Olivia?"

Gayla looked taken aback. "Lester isn't connected to any of this! How do you even know his name?" she demanded angrily.

Sadie began to open her mouth to say she'd cleaned up in a garage after he'd been hanged, but Gayla was ranting.

"I've told Lester just to lie low until all this is over so we can get a clean start. He's waiting for me in Mexico." She narrowed her gaze at Sadie and brandished the knife in her direction. "How did you find out that Lester's my fiance?"

Sadie panicked and blurted, "I just got the name from you . . . it was a vibe I felt," she explained quickly. "I, um . . . I never met him or anything."

Gayla lowered the knife and wiped sweat from her forehead.

"Sure. I guess you'd get that kind of vibe off me because I can't help but think about him and worry. I never should have told him about that creep. Stupid because, of course, Lester wanted to get involved and turn him in . . . protect me like a knight in s.h.i.+ning armor. He was supposed to text me every day but it's been almost a week." She rolled her head on her shoulders and cracked her neck in a nervous gesture. "Still, he promised he'd only make contact once he was sure things were safe. But soon we'll be together and this house will give us enough money for a fresh start." Her hands fluttered in the air and then she nervously looked at her watch. "We really need to move things along here."

Gayla walked to the closet and flung open the door, revealing only a small enclosed area vacant of any black swirling ma.s.s or ent.i.ties. Even without its dark mist, the s.p.a.ce made Sadie nervous.

"Feel free to use whatever you need." She pointed to the debris on the floor. "The wand is oak, which is supposed to make it great for this kind of thing, but it gave me no luck."

"I kind of usually just talk to them," Sadie said. "I help them move on to the next dimension just by listening."

"Really? Fascinating. Well, the extra buzz I gave you should really help you connect. I'm desperate here. Promised him you'd take care of business and I'd do whatever it takes to make that happen. And I will." She folded her arms across her chest. "Start talking."

Sadie hesitated. She wasn't used to doing what she did with an audience present and certainly not with an audience of craziness carrying a long, sharp knife.

"Um. Iris?" Sadie called out to the room. "Iris, dear, I think it would be good for us to talk about how I can help you. You don't have to exist this way. You must be tired."

"This really works for you?" Gayla asked skeptically. "Because I gotta say, I'm used to a little more oomph to bring spirits. Why don't you try this." She picked up a bottle of something labeled BANIs.h.i.+NG OIL and tossed the small vial to Sadie. "Sometimes this works."

"What the heck do I do with this?"

"Haven't you done this before?" Gayla demanded.

Sadie ran a trembling hand through her hair. "Look, if I'm going to talk to Iris I think it has to be alone."

"I'm not leaving," Gayla said firmly. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

Well, yes, I do, but that's beside the point.

"It's just that she's obviously frightened, so I think if it were just me it would be less intimidating," Sadie stated reasonably. "How about you wait just outside the door?"

Gayla seemed to think about it and finally nodded. "Fine. I'll wait in the hall. You've got five minutes. Ten tops." She walked over to Sadie and pointed the tip of the knife at her chest. "Don't try anything funny, because I will hurt you."

With that threat, Gayla stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

Sadie swallowed nervously.

"See what you've gotten me into?" Sadie said to the room. She walked tentatively closer to the closet. "Please, Iris. If you could help me out here I would really appreciate it. What is it that's keeping you here? If you tell me, maybe I can help you move on . . . hopefully within the next five to ten minutes."

A dark swirling cloud formed inside the closet and Sadie stared at it with fear. She wanted to run, but she knew she needed to stand her ground.

"Okay." Sadie nodded. "This is a start. Show me what you want me to help you with."

Sadie stared into the dark mist and walked closer to the closet until she stood on the very edge of the doorway. She watched Iris appear far into the distance, still wearing the outfit with the Marlene inscription over the pocket, and now that she knew it was a costume it explained a lot, but not everything.

"Let me help you," Sadie whispered.

A loud bang sounded as though the front door opened downstairs. Sadie looked over her shoulder.

"If she's gone, I've gotta make a run for it," Sadie told Iris. "No offense." She turned to walk away and said to Iris, "This might be my only chance."

"No-o-o!"

Iris's toneless voice echoed from deep inside the closet and before Sadie could take a single step she was sucked inside the small s.p.a.ce and smothered in an ink-like blanket. She couldn't breathe and then everything went dark.

When she came to, Sadie was sitting upright in the dark, cramped closet, with the door closed. The mist and Iris were gone. She opened the closet and stepped into the room.

"That didn't go well." Sadie scratched the back of her head. "I've done my best and it isn't good enough."

She made up her mind that if Gayla hadn't left the house, the next step would be a bald-faced lie. She'd tell Gayla that Iris was gone and hope that she'd be let go.

She opened the bedroom door and called out quietly.

"Gayla?"

There was no response. Maybe the sound she heard was Gayla leaving after all? Maybe she'd been scared off by whatever loony-tune ghosts rambled inside her crazy little head!

Sadie took off down the stairs at a dead run. When she hit the main-floor landing she turned the corner and came to an abrupt stop.

Gayla lay in a heap on the floor. She'd been stabbed multiple times and she was missing the index finger of her right hand.

Chapter 18.

Sadie bolted out the front door of the house and into the torrential rain. In her state of shock she didn't even notice she was shoeless and jacketless. All she knew was that she had to get away from that crazy house and the body of Gayla. She made it up the street about a block when she spied a boy about sixteen years old walking with his hoody pulled up over his head. He was hunched over, chatting on his phone. Sadie s.n.a.t.c.hed the phone from his hand.

"I've gotta call 9-1-1!" she explained.

The teen looked at the crazy shoeless woman in the rain and took off running in the opposite direction.

It took the cops less than five minutes to find her even though she thought she was hiding pretty well behind a clump of bushes at the corner. She was grateful it was them and not Owen Sorkin wielding pruning shears.

An officer tucked her into the back of the cruiser and then drove up the block to Halladay Street. Sadie watched as unmarked cars pulled up to the scene and rushed inside. When Petrovich arrived, the detective nodded to her in the back of the cruiser first, then went inside the house. After a few minutes, the detective came back out. He pulled Sadie from the squad car and, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, he drew her into a fatherly hug. She began shaking and sobbing against his shoulder.

"I thought I told you to stay with friends?" he said, patting her on the back.

He brought her over to his car and tucked her into the front seat. He turned the heat on high and got her a blanket from the trunk. The wool blanket smelled like mildew and scratched against her bare arms, but to Sadie it felt plusher than the best hotel duvet.

"Lester Pacheo was Gayla's fiance. She thought he was waiting for her in Mexico," Sadie said. She blurted it all out in a rush. She didn't bother to withhold anything, including the part about her being sucked into a closet while Gayla was being hacked up. She ended with, "It's gotta be Owen Sorkin."

Petrovich didn't say anything for a minute. He was obviously trying to absorb the deluge.

"I'll be back." He pointed a finger at her. "Don't go anywhere until the EMTs get here."

Truthfully, Sadie didn't think she was capable of putting one foot in front of another at that point, so she just put her head between her knees and tried hard not to vomit. By the time paramedics arrived, she'd restored some control over her jackhammering heart and trembling fingers.

"I'm fine," she told them.

"She's not fine," Petrovich barked from a few feet away. He came closer and said to the paramedics, "Take her to the hospital."

He instructed an officer to follow the ambulance to the hospital.

"You were drugged. You gotta get checked out," he said to Sadie. "I'll come by the hospital later to take your statement." Then he added, "And I called Bowman. He's coming in from Portland."

"What!" Sadie shook her head. "You didn't need to do that. You shouldn't have called him, because-"

"There's no way SPD is going to a.s.sign an officer to watch you 24/7 when you get out of the hospital. We don't have that kind of budget. Who knows how long it'll take to catch this guy?" Petrovich said evenly. "And I'd rather have an ex-cop keeping an eye on you right now than one of your strange psychic friends."

"Then there's something else you need to know." Sadie swallowed. "I slept with Owen Sorkin."

Petrovich stared at her.

"You probably want to leave that part out when you tell Bowman what happened."

He turned on his heel and thundered away, making his word final.

When she arrived at the hospital it felt good to lie beneath clean, cool sheets and to be fussed over. Even all the blood work was bearable when she considered the alternative-that she could've been full of holes caused by Owen Sorkin.

The doctor insisted she stay overnight and Sadie tried to argue that she couldn't afford it, but he used some lame-a.s.s excuse that your health had to come first. Sadie figured that was something only doctors and the rich could afford to say out loud.

A nurse wheeled her back to her room after tests and there were so many people waiting they had a hard time making a path to allow her to get to her bed. Maeva was there with Osbert and Terry. Rick and Rosemary were also there, along with Sadie's mom and Dawn.

"It would be really nice if you wouldn't always put yourself into such unsafe situations," her mom griped.

Sadie climbed into bed and wanted to offer her mom a sarcastic reply, but when she saw the tears in her eyes she only said, "Sorry, Mom."

The nurse gave everyone five minutes before they had to leave.

"Detective Petrovich asked that we tell you that Owen Sorkin's car was spotted on the I-5 headed for Canada. They'll apprehend him at the border," Maeva said.

Relief lifted from Sadie's shoulders and suddenly she felt very tired.

"I can't believe I got such a good vibe off that guy." Rosemary shook her head.

"He fooled us all," Rick added.

Sadie yawned and everyone took that as their cue to leave.

Maeva was the last one in the room.

"Osbert wasn't crying," Sadie remarked.

"He got his first tooth," Maeva said.

"So that's what all the fuss was about?" Sadie smiled. "Good news. You'll only have to go through that another nineteen times."

"Thanks for pointing that out," Maeva said sarcastically. "I'm going to let you get some sleep. Petrovich told me Zack will be here to get you in the morning. Are you okay with that?"

Sadie nodded hesitantly. "You know what? Considering I slept with a serial killer, I think the next time I get romantic feelings about a guy, we need to have some kind of intervention."