Part 12 (1/2)
”She's right there!”
Sadie turned and walked toward the third spirit. Her features said she was possibly Hispanic. Her dark hair was tied back in a severe bun, and she wore a chocolate-brown skirt and blouse with the name MARLENE st.i.tched on. The uniform looked similar to the ones the housekeeping staff wore at the Pacifica, but she looked kind of young to be scrubbing toilets at a hotel. Just a teenager.
”Were you an employee of the hotel?” Sadie asked her.
Marlene glanced around furtively as if expecting evil around every corner; then she put up both hands and covered her face with them. Sadie noticed all this spirit's fingers remained intact. As a matter of fact, Sadie couldn't see a single wound on her body. Marlene turned to leave and was partway through the walls of the hotel room when Sadie called out to her.
”Stop!” she shouted through her respirator. ”I need to know who you are and what happened? Were you killed with those two?”
Sadie glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Opal and Olivia vanish.
d.a.m.n.
”Do you know what happened here? Whoever is doing this has to be stopped. If you know anything at all . . . ,” Sadie pleaded. ”At least tell me who you are so I can help you.”
The teen shook her head sadly.
”You are in great danger,” Marlene said. When she spoke her voice was so distant and quiet it was as though she were talking from the opposite end of a long tunnel.
Sadie had had enough of dramatics. First the ridiculous bantering of the Climaxic Duo, and now the ominous warnings of a haunting housekeeper.
”Why couldn't this just be a simple suicide?” Sadie muttered to herself. Suicides didn't appear to Sadie because they chose to go over to the other side; their spirits rarely lingered. To Marlene Sadie insisted, ”I'm fine. I do trauma cleanup and happen to be able to speak to the dead, but you don't have to worry. Whoever did this”-Sadie waved a hand to indicate the b.l.o.o.d.y carnage in the room-”he's gone. You don't have to be afraid. He can't hurt you anymore.”
”No.” Marlene gazed at Sadie with a heartrending sadness in her eyes. She shook her head slowly and continued to speak with a toneless voice echoing from a million miles away. ”He won't stop.”
Marlene stepped closer and Sadie inadvertently took a step back.
”The police will catch him. He will be stopped,” Sadie insisted, a sick feeling churning in her stomach.
”He kills for you.”
”No.” Sadie shook her head violently. ”That's impossible. How do you know this? Who is this guy?”
Her eyes still on Sadie, Marlene's shoulders slumped. She looked defeated as she took steps backward until she was against the hotel room wall.
”He is the beast,” Marlene murmured, her eyes locked on Sadie's. ”There is only one way to stop him from killing others.”
Sadie swallowed thickly.
”How?”
Marlene leaned backward and the wall began to swallow her.
”How do we stop him?” Sadie demanded again.
Marlene's voice came on a whisper from far away.
”You have to die, Sadie Novak. The beast won't stop until he has your blood.”
Chapter 9.
It was too early to crack open the minibar so Sadie buried her gloved hands in buckets of cleaning solvents, and her mind tried to find a happy place. She thought of Hairy and his squishy softness and the comical twitch of his whiskers. Then she thought of Zack and felt a stabbing pain in her heart so she returned her focus to her rabbit.
For hours she sprayed emulsifiers on hard, dried tissue that clung to every surface like old chewed bubble gum. Sadie filled large bins with strips of carpet and underlay as well as sections of mattress. Anything that could not be cleaned had to be disposed of as biohazardous waste. You didn't mess around with the thousands of diseases lurking in a single droplet of dried blood.
Eventually the afternoon crept close to six o'clock and Sadie realized she needed to go downstairs to meet Gayla in the bar as promised. She was looking forward to the break but not to spending the time with Owen's partner. When she left the room, Sadie checked her cell phone. Gayla had texted her a few minutes before to say she was on her way. Sadie replied and confirmed she'd be there. Then she called down to Bev Hummel's office.
”I'm taking a break now and meeting a client at the hotel bar,” Sadie told her. ”It'll be brief and you won't be billed for my time there.”
”And when do you expect to be finished with your job?” Bev asked.
”It's a much larger job than I expected,” Sadie said, but didn't go on to explain she had a.s.sumed she'd be mopping up after one body not three. ”However, I will work until late tonight and return and do the same tomorrow, if necessary. In the meantime, you can definitely arrange to have workers ready to go for replacing drywall, carpeting, and of course, bedding and the mattress.”
Bev Hummel thanked Sadie for the heads-up and they ended the call.
Quick as a bunny Sadie re-dressed in the skirt and blouse she'd worn when she arrived at the hotel. Even though she'd hurried, it was still ten past six when Sadie walked into the hotel lounge. There were a couple of businessmen with their oversized a.s.ses draped across barstools but the tables were empty. Huh. Sadie had definitely pegged Gayla as the punctual type and had expected to find her already tapping a foot with impatience.
She slipped into a booth not far from the entrance and ordered a Diet c.o.ke and yam fries. If she was working the night s.h.i.+ft, caffeine and carbs were definitely the way to go.
The fries arrived around the same time as Gayla. She looked frantic as she slipped into the booth across from Sadie, putting in an order for a vodka gimlet as she sat.
”I'm not happy,” Gayla said. Her hair stuck out as if she'd been pulling it and her face was devoid of makeup.
”Okay.” Thanks for the warning.
Sadie glanced pointedly at her watch but there was no I'm so sorry I'm late forthcoming. She dipped a yam fry in yogurt sauce and started the conversation with, ”Sooo, how are things at Halladay Street?”
”Busy,” Gayla said, narrowing her eyes. ”Extremely busy. We're probably going to need traffic control of some kind.”
”Why?” Sadie sipped her pop and offered Gayla a fry, but she declined.
”Because of the d.a.m.n video!” Gayla hissed.
”I don't follow.”
Gayla looked at her like she was as sharp as a bag of rocks.
”The vid-e-o,” she said slowly. ”On YouTube.”
Sadie shrugged her shoulders.
”Oh come on. Have you been hiding under a rock all day?”
”No,” Sadie snapped. ”I've been holed up at a crime scene and up to my elbows in blood.”
The waitress arrived with Gayla's drink. She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and took a large mouthful before getting up from her side of the booth and squeezing in next to Sadie. With a flourish, Gayla snapped open her purse and pulled out an iPad.