Once back inside her house Sadie locked the door behind her and then slumped onto her sofa.
“Must’ve been some kind of hot date,” Petrovich said, coming out of the kitchen. “The guy doesn’t even come inside afterward.”
“It was fine. He has to work.” She looked up at him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
He put his hands up.
“You’re right. So what did he have to say about me?”
Sadie raised her eyebrows.
“We were on a date. What makes you think we talked about you? You didn’t want anyone to know you were here, remember?”
Sadie rubbed at her sternum where acid was bubbling up from her stomach.
“Oh c’mon, you mean you didn’t even ask Bowman about the case? You could’ve asked his opinion without telling him where I was.” Petrovich began to pace. “I need help here, Sadie. I need you to be my ears and find out what everyone is saying. You gotta help me find out who really did this and—”
Sadie’s office phone rang from her den down the hall and she was grateful for the interruption.
“Hold that thought,” she told Dean and ran down the hall to pick up the business line.
She answered the call in her most business-like tone.
“Scene-2-Clean. How can I help you?” She dug in her desk drawer, found an old roll of antacids and popped one in her mouth.
“I’m Harrison and I manage an apartment block up by Northgate Mall. Last week they found a body in one of our apartments. Tenant was killed by her boyfriend but nobody knew about it until the neighbors started smelling something.”
“Yes, I heard about the incident on the news,” Sadie said, sympathetically. “Very sad.”
“Yeah, well, I called the police and asked when they were going to come and clean up the mess at this place so I can put an ad in the paper and get it rented out, you know?” Harrison said, sounding agitated. “But they tell me they don’t even do the cleaning. Said I’ve gotta call a trauma cleaner so I Googled and found you.”
“Yes, you’re correct. Once the police have retrieved all their evidence from a scene the cleanup is the owner’s responsibility. The good news is that insurance will usually cover my costs.”
“That’s great to know ‘cause I’m just in charge of renting out the apartments, you know? I’m not paid enough to go in there and wipe up after somebody dies.”
“I’m certified to handle decomp and blood borne pathogens so you were right to call a professional,” she told him. “I can be there for an initial walk-thru later this morning.”
Harrison was thrilled to have her start so soon. Sadie got the address from the caller and promised to be there in a couple hours.
“Please gather the insurance information in the meantime,” Sadie told him and they ended the call.
Sadie smiled and the grin turned into a yawn. She’d had a solid night’s sleep and still felt like she could go back to bed. She was definitely coming down with something.
“Sorry about that,” she said to Dean as she returned to the living room. “Got a job to do over by Northgate Mall. So what were you saying?”
“I was saying that I need your help to do some investigating into Jane’s death. Find out what really happened so everyone stops putting the blame on me.” He was tossing his hands in the air with agitation and walking back and forth across the room.
Sadie didn’t want to get dragged into this mess. She could think a thousand reasons to avoid it like the plague. But she knew that if Dean really needed her, she had to be there for him. Sometimes being a good friend sucked pond water.
“Dean, you’re a cop. You must’ve told me a thousand times to leave the investigating to the police. Don’t you see the advantage of leaving the investigation into Jane’s death to the detectives to handle?”
“I’m a cop so I know exactly how they are handling it. They’ve pinned it on me and nobody’s looking any further.” He stopped pacing just a couple inches away. “Just see if you can talk to Jane.”
“That means I’d have to go to where she was killed.”
“She was murdered at a spa!” he shouted. “Make yourself an appointment for something girly and maybe Jane’ll show up and talk to you. Geez do I have to think of everything? I thought you loved talking to the dead?”
The doorbell rang and Petrovich rolled his eyes. “This place is like Grand Central frick’n station!”
He grumbled to himself and headed down the hall while Sadie answered the door.
“I’m back, baby!” Maeva exclaimed when Sadie opened the door.
“You’re back from where?” Sadie asked her best friend.
Maeva pushed through the door a vision in a flowing gauzy peasant dress and a jangle of gold chains.
“I’m back from limbo land. Now that Osbert is completely weaned I decided it was time to test my psychic prowess and went back to work.”
“I didn’t know you were going back to Madam Maeva’s so soon,” Sadie said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It isn’t soon. Between pregnancy, birthing and nursing I’ve been off nearly a year. I didn’t tell anyone besides Terry about trying to go back to work.”
“Nice to tell your husband but not your best friend,” Sadie smirked.
“I didn’t want to tell anyone I was going back until I was sure my abilities had returned,” Maeva explained. “I had a session this morning and it was like all my psychicness is back bigger and better than ever. Saw a woman’s dead father and she got to make peace with him. It was a beautiful moment.”
“That’s awesome,” Sadie said, glancing distractedly over her shoulder.
“Is there a reason we’re standing at your front door?” Maeva asked then her eyes got big and round and she whispered, “Oh my God, you had your breakfast date with Zack this morning! How did it go?” She lowered her voice even more. “Is he in the bedroom? Did I interrupt something?”
“No, he’s not here.” Sadie laughed. “Let’s go for a walk. I just need some fresh air.”
She stuffed her feet into her Nikes and pushed Maeva out the front door.
“What’s going on? Why are you acting so weird?”
Sadie ignored Maeva’s questions until they were at the end of the driveway and then she spoke out of the side of her mouth, “Petrovich is holed up inside my house.”
Maeva was quiet a moment then muttered, “Wow,” under her breath.
“Exactly,” Sadie continued as they picked up speed on their walk. “Apparently he wants me to find who really killed his ex wife.”
“But I thought he killed her,” Maeva said. “That’s what every TV channel and newspaper has said all along.”
“I know. That’s what everyone thinks. Except Dean.” Sadie slowed her walking pace and stuffed her hands in her jeans. “I can’t even think straight because I’m so damn tired.”
“He kept you up all night?” Maeva asked.
“No, but he woke me up early and, even though I went back to bed for a couple hours, I’m beat. Even my hair feels tired. Don’t stand too close. I might be coming down with the flu.”
“I’m betting it’s just stress over renewing your relationship with Zack,” Maeva said with a smirk. “Speaking of that, how did the breakfast date go.”
“About as poorly as it possibly could.”
“I doubt it was as bad as you think.”
“I threw up on him.”
Maeva stopped walking and stared.
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.”
Suddenly Maeva tilted her head and looked Sadie over from head to toe.
“Hold up your hands. Let me see if I can get a reading off of you.”
Maeva was touch sensitive. That meant that, because of Sadie’s close proximity to the other side, Maeva would become physically ill if they touched. For Maeva, a hug from Sadie was like touching a corpse, resulting in repercussions much like Sadie’s reaction to her breakfast burrito. To give her friend a reading, Maeva merely hovered her hands very closely to Sadie’s fingers and somehow felt the vibe.
“Hurry up. The neighbors are liable to call the cops and tell them there’s a couple of weirdoes doing a strange dance on the sidewalk.”
Maeva shushed her and frowned seriously before dropping her hands and turning on her heel. She began jogging back in the direction they’d just come with Sadie panting after her.
“Where are you going?” Sadie asked. “Aren’t we going for a walk?”
“No. We’re going back to get my car and then we’re going to the store.”
“Why?” Sadie demanded, running after her.
“To buy a pregnancy test.”
***
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Wendy Roberts is an armchair sleuth and a fan of all things mysterious. She lives in Surrey, British Columbia, with four teens and a tenacious terrier. She is hard at work on her next novel. You can visit her on the web at www.wendyroberts.com and follow her on Twitter @authorwendy.
Also by Wendy Roberts
The Remains of the Dead
Devil May Ride
Dead and Kicking
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