Part 7 (1/2)
”What does it mean?” she asked, tracing the outline of the tattoo with her finger.
”It means I was a college boy studying mythology and consuming far too much vodka,” Owen said with a breathy chuckle.
Owen slid his body down hers. He opened the front of her blouse and momentarily played with the circular pendant lying in her cleavage. She glanced down and saw him reading the words on the back.
”It's some kind of good-luck thingamajig,” she said breathlessly.
”Hmm. If you say so.”
He pushed the necklace aside, unsnapped her bra and began leaving wet, sizzling kisses on Sadie's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She groaned softly, closed her eyes, and behind her lids she saw Zack's face.
”I . . . I can't.” Sadie sat up so abruptly she toppled Owen onto the floor. He b.u.mped the coffee table and deftly steadied her gla.s.s of beer before it spilled.
”I am sooo sorry.” She rearranged her clothes and ran her fingers through her mussed hair.
”No harm done. Although I nearly spilled your beer, and that would've been a real shame.”
He winked at her and offered Sadie a sincere smile as he b.u.t.toned his s.h.i.+rt and tucked it into his pants. He looked better mussed then dressed up, and that thought almost made her want to drag him back onto the sofa. But she didn't.
Owen bent down and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.
”Guess I'll get going.”
”Um. Okay.” She walked him to the door. ”Thanks for the ride,” Sadie said, then added, ”And for the dinner.”
”Dinner was all on Gayla.” He paused to place a brief, chaste kiss on her cheek.
”Sorry about the finger and-” She shrugged. ”About not . . . you know.”
”No need to apologize. The finger thing wasn't your fault, and this”-he pointed at Sadie and then back at himself-”was just too fast.” He shrugged. ”See you tomorrow night.”
”Tomorrow?” Sadie frowned.
”Didn't Gayla tell you? Rosemary and Rick Thingvold are doing some kind of purification ritual tomorrow, and since you agreed to be on the payroll I'm guessing Gayla expects you there.”
Sadie opened the front door and, at the same time, felt like she'd also opened Pandora's box.
Chapter 5.
Sadie woke up the next morning with the vague recollection of a fiery dream involving Zack's face and Owen's body. She took a long, cool shower before checking her messages. The only person who'd called was her sister, Dawn, reminding her about dinner and saying she'd call again later.
She tossed Hairy's mini stuffed bunny around for a minute but the rabbit was too intelligent to have ever believed in the game of fetch. Sadie gave him fresh water and refilled his kibble before getting dressed up for a return to the Bay Eminence Hotel. Even though the only thing she had to do there was pick up her ozone generator, she needed to maintain her businesswoman-from-out-of-town look as part of her agreement with Eminence manager Herbert Sylvane.
Sadie arrived at the hotel just after noon dressed in a gray knit dress and kitten heels and pulling a large suitcase behind her. She walked down the hall to the right of the front desk and knocked twice on Herbert's office door before trying the k.n.o.b and finding it locked.
”You looking for Father Herb?” asked an older Hispanic woman carrying a huge stack of mail.
”Um. Herbert Sylvane?” Sadie said. Father Herb?
”Right, that's what I mean.” She nodded. ”He's around the hotel somewhere. I saw him heading up the elevator a minute ago. Do you want me to leave him a note?”
”That's okay,” Sadie said. She turned to leave but then couldn't resist asking, ”Is that his nickname? Father Herb?”
”Oh that.” She waved a hand in the air. When Sadie offered her a blank stare the woman added, ”I heard he was a priest before he came to work in the hotel biz.”
”Really?” Sadie was stunned. She'd never heard of anybody becoming a priest and then leaving that life to run a hotel.
It just seemed odd. Sadie must've looked curious because the woman continued , ”It was a long time ago, and I don't think he likes to talk about it. So, if you don't mind, maybe don't mention I told you.”
”No problem.”
Sadie walked away thinking she'd talk to Herbert Sylvane on her way out. She rolled her extra-large Samsonite behind her as she headed across the lobby to the elevators and then up to the tenth floor. She made her way down the hall, and this time she used the key card she'd kept to open the door to the crime-scene room, as there was no reason to enter through the adjoining room she'd used as a safe zone.
When she opened the door and she encountered Herbert Sylvane in the doorway.
The hotel manager jumped back a couple feet, then placed his hand on his double-breasted, tweed heart and cursed like a sailor.
”You scared the frickin' h.e.l.l out of me!” he hissed.
”Sorry.” Sadie wheeled her suitcase inside and closed the door with both of them inside. ”I'm just collecting the ozone generator.” She nodded to the machine proudly sucking in bad air and blowing out good.
”Oh.” Herbert looked like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't, and Sadie noticed he had a small sack in one hand that he quickly stuffed into his suit pants. ”I'll leave you to it then.”
He coughed into his hand to clear his throat and then absently smoothed his unwrinkled suit jacket.
”I was just following up and checking the room,” he added. ”The new mattress and box spring are due to be delivered tomorrow along with the carpeting and underlay to replace the area you removed. Thanks for all your work here,” he said, at the door. ”I guess you won't be back again?”
He looked impossibly hopeful.
”Not unless you get another dead body here,” Sadie smirked. ”If you do, I'm your gal.”
”Right. Okay.” Herbert chuckled good-naturedly. ”Let's hope that doesn't happen.”
Then he left speedily like his a.s.s was on fire. He certainly wasn't the first grown man Sadie had seen with an aversion to being in a room where someone had died. The thought had her find the necklace around her throat and she wondered about Hugh Pacheo and how he was handling his son's death.
She found it curious that Herbert Sylvane would be at the murder scene, but she realized that he couldn't avoid the room entirely. Sadie imagined that Herbert, as the hotel manager he couldn't exactly rent out the room until he'd seen for himself what still needed to be done. Then again, he might've merely been curious and was embarra.s.sed about being caught peeking at a crime scene. Or maybe he'd just come in to take a coffee break and watch a little p.o.r.n. Sadie didn't know and didn't care what an ex-priest did in his spare time.
Once she'd unplugged her ozone generator, Sadie placed the machine inside her oversized suitcase and left her room key on the dresser. When she was leaving, she took the time to flip the plastic door hanger to say MAID, CLEAN THIS ROOM NOW.
Truthfully, the room had never been as clean as it was after Sadie gave it a scrub, but this way everyone knew she was finished.
Sadie took the elevator with her heavy suitcase. Back in her vehicle, she headed for home and answered a brief call from Dawn.
”Don't forget you're bringing the salad for dinner tonight,” Dawn said.
”I didn't forget.” Sadie s.n.a.t.c.hed up a tiny sc.r.a.p of paper from the pa.s.senger seat and scribbled a reminder to pick up salad fixings, then jammed the note next to the speedometer. ”I can't stay late.”