Dead Suite Part 22

Sadie had full intentions of driving straight to Rosemary and Rick's house, but she was halfway there when she received a panicked call from Maeva. She said that when they'd arrived to relieve the babysitter they found Osbert was running a high fever.

"Rosemary's taking the two of us to the emergency room." Maeva's voice was filled with emotion.

"He'll be fine," Sadie said, trying to rea.s.sure her friend. "Do you want me to meet you there?"

"Rosemary wants you to know that Rick should be home from work in an hour to let you in the house. Will you be okay until then?"

"I'm fine. You go take care of my G.o.dson and get back to me as soon as you know anything."

She ended the call and debated how to spend the hour of her life before Rick Thingvold came home. She turned the radio to a news station and continued to drive. An idea occurred to her and she found herself cornering right onto Nickerson Street, and within ten minutes she was driving up Halladay Street. She pulled to the curb in front of the neighboring blue house.

She was just about to climb out of her car when a reporter announced on the radio that there was breaking news about the Seattle Slasher.

"We have reports that all three of the women who were brutally killed by the Seattle Slasher were connected by a local theatre company called Stone Soup."

Sadie cranked up the radio.

"We've confirmed with one of the acting instructors at Stone Soup that a select group of young people received free acting cla.s.ses at Stone Soup on a regular basis. In addition, an organization called Women Against the Streets, or WATS, routinely sent street workers to attend cla.s.ses, along with inspired youth in the community, as a way of getting them interested in life outside the s.e.x trade."

Sadie thought about the connection to Stone Soup and wondered if, in fact, she was wrong about Ed Muirhead's innocence. He had access to all three women and it would've been easy for him to find the girls he liked through the school and then lure them to a hotel to kill them.

Her phone rang and she recognized the number from the Bay Eminence Hotel.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Sadie? It's Herbert. How are you?"

"I've had better weeks. What can I do for you?"

"It might be what I can do for you," he said.

Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn't in the mood for games.

"Okay, I'll bite. What can you do for me, Herbert?"

"I remember you saying that business was slow, and I recently had an opening at the hotel and I thought of you."

"You're offering me a job? Was another body tucked away somewhere at the prestigious Eminence?"

He chuckled loudly. "No. Actually, I have a need for someone to oversee my housekeeping department. Given your experience-"

"I have no experience whatsoever working in a hotel," Sadie interrupted.

"No, but you certainly have experience cleaning. The job would entail overseeing staff, scheduling, and that kind of thing, but also ensuring everyone's cleanliness standards are up to par."

Sadie had a brief vision of housekeeping staff at the Eminence donning hazmat suits and respirators and then entering rooms carrying supercharged toilet brushes.

"I'm really flattered, but I don't think I'm suited for that kind of position."

"The pay is substantial and we have an extensive benefit package and an impressive retirement plan."

And Sadie needed all those things, so it was really hard to turn him down.

"It's very nice of you to think of me, but I'm sure there are hundreds of people more qualified."

"How about we have coffee just to discuss it?" he offered. "If you still say no, then I can share with you all the secrets I know about banis.h.i.+ng evil." He chuckled.

"You mean there's more to that than holy water?"

"You have no idea. I have an opening in my schedule right now, as a matter of fact. Are you free?"

Sadie hesitated. She thought the coffee date with Herbert Sylvane was a waste of time, but she didn't like to burn bridges with clients either.

"My life is chaotic at the moment," Sadie said honestly. She didn't want to worry Rick Thingvold if he was expecting her when he got home from work. "How about I call you back when I know how my day is shaping up tomorrow?"

She ended the call with Herbert and dialed Rosemary and Rick's house, but there was no answer. She didn't have Rick's cell number so she had to wait until he got home before she could head to his place. She glanced over the blue house next door to the crazy house. She might as well talk to Roy Huett and find out what history, haunted or otherwise, he had on the house left to him by Della Prior.

The rain showed no sign of letting up, coming down in angled sheets. Sadie reached over to search for a ball cap she kept under the pa.s.senger seat. When her car had been searched by detectives, they'd moved it, but she finally located it squished into her glove compartment. Obviously the tech guys weren't ball fans. As Sadie yanked the cap out of the tight compartment she knocked her large purse off the pa.s.senger seat and its contents dumped everywhere. She really needed to learn to zip up the half dozen pockets, or go back to her old purse that had only one section.

Sadie grabbed hold of the bag from its bottom to turn it right-side up and felt a hard square object slide around inside, but when she looked into her purse she saw nothing. Curious, she began rifling through the pockets, but virtually all the random purse paraphernalia had fallen onto the floor and pa.s.senger seat-except for the odd receipt and a random tampon. She snagged the large handbag by the bottom corners and shook it upside down until the lining itself fell out. It was then she noticed a small cut in the cloth seam. She stuffed her hand inside the hole and it ripped a bit further. Maybe she'd get lucky and find a random wallet stuffed with cash. More likely, Maeva had left a powder compact and it had slid inside the lining. Her fingers managed to grab hold of something small, smooth, and rectangular. Sadie pulled it out of the bag and stared. It looked like a black garage-door opener without b.u.t.tons.

Just then her phone chirped, announcing a message. A smile touched her lips as she saw a text from Zack.

I got that Seattle job and I'm coming back into town tonight. Can I buy you dinner tomorrow?

"h.e.l.l yeah." Sadie smiled and felt her heart go thumpity-thump with joy as she replied with a simple Sure.

Then she used her phone to snap a picture of the device in her hand and then sent the photo to Zack with a message: Do you know what this is?

The phone rang in her hand a second later.

"That's a covert GPS tracking device," Zack said, his voice sounding concerned. "Tell me you found it on a job and not, like, in your car or something?"

"It was in my purse."

"Someone's tracking you, Sadie! Why would someone be doing that? Have you been working a dangerous job I should know about?"

Sadie didn't want to tell him all that had been happening over the phone.

"We can talk about it tomorrow," she said. "What should I do with it?"

"You should turn it over to the cops right away," he said firmly.

Sadie promised that she would and then told him she'd see him tomorrow.

Once they'd disconnected, Sadie called Petrovich and told him about the GPS device.

"It's small and black and it has a USB connection on the side." Sadie turned it over in her hands as she described it. "I sent a picture of it to Zack and he says it's a covert GPS. I feel like I'm in a James Bond movie."

"You can get those things at any electronics store." Petrovich cursed. "Guess we know how the guy was finding your vehicles to leave you baggies of fingers."

Sadie agreed.

"I'm guessing Owen Sorkin had access to your purse at one time or another?" the detective asked.

Sadie thought about the night they spent together and blushed.

"Yes."

"And Ed Muirhead could've accessed your purse when you met him at the Bellevue house?"

Sadie thought about it.

"I don't see how, but I guess anything is possible."

"Stay with your friends and try not to handle the thing too much until I can see if I can get prints off it."

"Okay." Sadie dropped the small black box onto the pa.s.senger seat and grimaced. She'd already groped it all over and had probably smudged up any prints. "So you're looking into Owen Sorkin after all?"

"Just want him to clear up some questions, because you said there might be a connection between that Halladay case and this one. Probably I'll just rule him out. My money is on Ed Muirhead. He had access to the girls."

"What about Albuquerque?"

"The plays sometimes went on the road, so it's possible he was in or around New Mexico a couple years ago. We're trying to get more information from the people who run the theatre to confirm."

Sadie felt relieved. Muirhead would stay locked up and she hadn't slept with a murderer.

Still, there was the little matter of helping Iris Prior's spirit, and maybe if she found out a little more about her history she could help her move on. The skies were delivering a downpour, with the rain coming down in sheets. Sadie reached into her backseat and snagged her ball cap. She pulled it down on her head and zipped up her dark jacket. She headed up the crooked walkway to the tidy blue house next to the one owned by Gayla and Owen. After she knocked sharply on the door she heard the volume of the television set get turned down. Sadie waited patiently while she was sure she was being scrutinized through the peephole in the door.

Finally the door opened a crack and man peered at her.

"Yes?"

"Hi, Mr. Huett. My name is Sadie Novak. I was wondering if I could talk to you about Della and Iris Prior?"

"That was years ago. I've got nothing to say about that."

He made to close the door but Sadie stopped it with her foot.

"I understand Della left the house to you in her will. I've been trying to help the new owners get the house renovated, but they've been having some issues that I thought you could help me understand."

"Are you a reporter?" he asked.

"No. Definitely not."

He hesitated and then opened the door.

"Fine. Come in."

Roy Huett was a short, middle-aged man with a sizeable beer belly. Sadie kicked off her shoes and followed him into the living room. The home was decorated in early seventies green and gold colors. Roy sat down in a brown La-Z-Boy recliner and Sadie sat opposite him on a s.h.i.+ny green sofa.

"What do you want to know?" Roy asked.

"You must've known Della Prior well for her to leave you her house."

He nodded. "She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. She had troubles." He clenched and unclenched his hands nervously. "But she never stopped believing that G.o.d would deliver her from her pain."

Something in the faraway, sorrowful look in his eyes told Sadie he cared for Della Prior in a different way than just as a kindly neighbor.

"You were in love with her?"

He hesitated and nodded. "I wanted to marry her, but she said that in the eyes of the church, she was still married to Eddie, even though the idiot walked out on her and Iris."

"What kind of troubles did Della Prior have?" Sadie asked gently.

"Well, money troubles, of course, because it's not easy raising a daughter on your own. Eddie deposited money into her account every so often but she could never count on it. All the stresses took their toll. She wasn't well."

"She had emotional problems?"

"She was bipolar." His chin dropped to his chest. "When she took her medication she was fine but, toward the end, she became convinced that Iris was demon-possessed and was controlling her meds, so she wouldn't take them." He looked toward his right in the direction of the neighboring house. "It's that house. You're probably going to think I have one screw loose, but I never felt good about being in that house. And . . ." He looked like he was about to tell her more, then clamped his mouth shut.

"Did stuff happen there? Did Della think the house was haunted?"

"She would complain to me that there were sounds and things moving around the place." He sighed. "I took her to her doctor and he increased her medications, but it didn't help because she wouldn't take them. Della became paranoid and thought Iris was playing pranks on her to make her crazy." He looked at Sadie. "Iris was a sweet girl but she was defiant and a little wild. She wanted to be an actress, and Della thought that wasn't a proper life for a good Catholic girl. They fought constantly about it."

"An actress?" Sadie leaned in close. "Do you remember if Iris ever attended cla.s.ses at a theatre called Stone Soup?"

"If she did, she sure as heck wouldn't have told me about it, or her mother."

He got to his feet.

"Sorry, but you're going to have to leave. I work the night s.h.i.+ft operating a forklift at a warehouse. I start in an hour."

Sadie thanked him and walked to the door. As she put on her shoes she asked, "You said Della's husband put money in her bank every so often. Did he ever call or visit Iris over the years?"

"Never. Della tried to track him down but the closest she got was finding out the deposits into her bank account were made into branches all over."

He shrugged.

"You hung on to the house for a couple years before selling it. Any particular reason why?"

"I thought maybe Della would've wanted me to keep it, so I tried renting it out in the beginning. . . ."

"Were tenants frightened off?"

"Some stayed a week and others a couple months, but eventually they all left because of noises and things they saw." He looked ashamed, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I brought Della to get her meds increased but she was right about the house the whole time. I should've believed her." He cleared his throat and then spoke up. "Anyway, I couldn't afford all the taxes and utility payments on the place so I put it on the market and it sold. I was lucky two bidders showed up and wanted it right away."

"Owen and Gayla."