“And hurry please,” Sadie told the detective.
While she waited for the police to arrive, Sadie dialed Zack. She talked to him about the delay. As a former cop, he knew the situation was beyond her control.
“You can’t help it,” Zack said. “So call once you’re done giving your report to the detective and you’re on your way home. No need to worry about cooking. I’ll just pick up a pizza for us and meet you at your place.”
It was good to hear his voice. It felt natural that he was the one she’d talk to when things went wrong on a job. She’d missed that.
Zack added in a throaty whisper, “Since you’ve had such a rough day, I’ll throw in a massage once we’re done eating.”
She knew that massage implied something a lot lustier and a lot more fun than the one she’d had earlier in the day. Unfortunately, she also knew chances were slim she’d be in line for any carnal rewards once she told him about her prego situation.
“After we’re done eating, we need to have a talk,” she warned and then hurriedly ended the call.
After the Dodge Ram’s last drive-by, she’d gone to wait inside the Scene-2-Clean van for Detective Maureen Downey. The van was toasty-warm and Sadie’s body was tired, so naturally she dozed a little. When the detective arrived and rapped on the van window, Sadie nearly jumped out of her skin.
She opened the door and hopped out, with her heart still pounding in her chest.
“You’re Sadie Novak, right? So tell me again what you found on this job,” the detective asked, getting right to the point.
Sadie and Maureen Downey had never met, but Detective Petrovich had referred to her as a flaming ballbuster. Whatever the hell that meant. The detective’s streaked hair was tied back in a tight ponytail and her fortysomething face was devoid of makeup or a smile. She was business with a capital B—the kind that made women get called another name that started with B.
“I was cutting away blood-soaked drywall, and when I popped out a section in the living room, it was jammed with bundles of cash,” Sadie told her.
“Damn skippy,” Detective Downey muttered under her breath. “I’m guessing we found what the assailant was looking for.” She leveled a gaze at Sadie. “You touch the bills at all?”
“Nope.”
She punched Sadie lightly on the shoulder. “Good job, Novak.”
Sadie felt simultaneously disconcerted and strangely proud. Then Detective Downey tilted her head one way and sniffed the air, then tilted her head the other way and sniffed again.
“Gawd, what the hell is that?” She looked down at her shoes and lifted each one.
“Oh thaaat,” Sadie said hurriedly. “Neighbor’s dog took a big dump in the bushes. Just a second ago.”
“Wow. That dog must be seriously ill.” The detective rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Okay, just wait here a minute.”
The detective went to the trunk of her car and retrieved disposable booties, gloves, and a camera and then went inside the house. Sadie tore the conjure bag from around her neck and tossed it into her van. Then she leaned casually against her vehicle and waited. Ten minutes later the detective was back.
She let out a low whistle.
“I’m guessing there might be a couple hundred thousand there.”
“Do you think it’s drug money?” Sadie asked. “Or did the previous tenants just like to store their savings in the walls?”
“I can’t get into the details of our investigation here,” she said seriously. “But it’s been my experience that whenever someone hides cash inside their walls there’s a good chance it represents ill-gotten gains.”
“Sooo, I guess I have to leave all my equipment inside and you’ll let me know when I can return to clean up the place?”
“Leave me your business card,” the detective said. “And as soon as we’ve done our thing here, you’ll be the first to know.”
Sadie opened her van and pulled a business card out of the side pocket of the door and handed it over.
“I appreciate you calling promptly and not messing with the cash,” Detective Downey said, pocketing the card and offering Sadie the closest thing she had to a smile. “Petrovich always said you were aces, so I’m glad to see he was right.”
“Speaking of Dean,” Sadie began, unable to help herself. “What happened at Jonelle’s Spa . . . ?”
“It’s still under investigation and I’m not handling it.” She put her hands up. “And I’m thrilled I’m not the one having to work that case. It’s a dog’s breakfast.”
“It’s surreal to think a hard-ass cop and all-round rule follower like Petrovich would go nutso and just off his ex-wife at a spa, right?” Sadie pushed. “It just doesn’t sound right, does it? What’s your gut say about it? What do you personally feel happened?” Sadie asked, pressing harder. “Do you think Petrovich lost his marbles and shot his ex-wife in cold blood?”
The detective pursed her lips and rocked back and forth on her heels for a few seconds.
“Petrovich and I butted heads on investigations a lot over the years. It was no secret we didn’t always see eye to eye. If he was ever off base I’d call him on it.”
Sadie had a feeling that’s why Petrovich coined the phrase “flaming ballbuster” when referring to Downey.
“That said,” the detective continued, “I have a hard time believing he cared enough about Jane to work up a sweat, never mind a bullet, over her.”
“Thanks.” Sadie nodded, feeling somewhat relieved.
“Still, it’s like this situation here.” She nodded toward the house behind them. “Someone might say to me that the people who lived here were honest, upright citizens. Good people. Great neighbors. I would definitely take all of that into consideration when putting together my case, but in the end, the evidence speaks and the evidence doesn’t lie.”
With that hard statement, Detective Downey turned away to make a phone call. Sadie climbed into her van with a renewed sense of fatigue and a roaring hunger. She texted Zack to come over in about an hour. That would give her enough time to get cleaned up and prepare what she wanted to say.
As she drove home, she called Bill and explained to him that there was a slight delay in her cleaning of his investment property.
“I, unfortunately, uncovered some additional evidence that the police needed to collect,” she told him, being careful not to reveal anything the police wouldn’t want her to release.
“Are you kidding me?” he sputtered angrily. “But the damn cops already told me that I could go ahead and have the place cleaned!” he protested. “This is typical Seattle Police Department bullshit! They didn’t do it right the first time, and now someone I hired had to collect their evidence for them,” he growled. “That figures.”
Sadie wasn’t surprised by his annoyance, but she disliked his overheated reaction. Obviously renting the property out was a priority. Maybe he was hurting financially like half the population. Still, four people had been killed and there was such a thing as priorities.
“I don’t think the detective will hold up the job long,” Sadie assured him. “And I did manage quite a bit in the time I was there. If you want to line up tradespeople to come in after I’m done, that would be a wise idea.”
“So you don’t think they’ll be in there messing around for days?” he asked, sounding somewhat mollified.
“I’m pretty sure this is a simple thing,” Sadie said. After all, how long does it take to remove stacks of money from a wall? “And once I’m back in there, I’ll need about a day and a half of cleaning, and then it’ll just be a matter of leaving some air cleaners operating like fans for another day or two.”
Bill sounded okay with it and now Sadie hoped that Detective Downey would do her part and act quickly. Sadie didn’t need a pissed-off client to add to her list of troubles.
When she sq
ueezed the Scene-2-Clean van into her garage and bolted inside the house, Sadie had forgotten about Detective Petrovich and nearly had a heart attack when he greeted her at the door.
“Zack’s on his way over,” she told him breathlessly. “I’ve got to shower, change, and somehow prepare myself to ruin his life. And possibly my own too.”
“Okay, but speaking about ruined lives,” Petrovich said dryly, “how’d it go?”
Sadie stared at him blankly.
“At the massage place? Talking to the masseuse.” He waved his hands impatiently in the air.
“Oh!” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, that feels like a lifetime ago—but no, it didn’t really go well.” Because I fell asleep immediately. “Because apparently the masseuse didn’t see or hear anything until everyone heard the gunshot.”
“Damn!”
“There is a small bit of good news, though,” Sadie added. “I talked to Detective Maureen Downey a little while ago and she doesn’t think you did it.”
“Excuse me? You talked to that flaming ballbuster about me?”
“Calm down!” Sadie launched into a quick explanation about the cash she found at the West Seattle house and Detective Downey coming to take over the scene.
“And she just casually mentions that she doesn’t think I did it?” Detective Petrovich snorted.
“I guess because she knew we were friends, she just thought it would make me feel better.”
“Well gee, as long as you feel better I guess that’s what’s important.”
Sadie planted her hands on her hips and stared him down.
“Could you puh-leeease save your sarcasm and guilt-throwing for later tonight? Because I promise you that in a couple hours, Zack will storm out of here forever and I will be a weak hot mess and you can freak out all you want!” She realized her voice was shrill and she was dangerously close to sounding like she was having a mental breakdown. She put up her hands in a stopping motion. “I’m getting in the shower. When I get out, you need to be gone. You can’t hide here anymore. Find somewhere else. At least for a couple days.”
Sadie walked into her bedroom and slammed the door. She took the conjure bag and put it in her purse, then put the entire pocketbook into an airtight Ziploc bag. Next, she took a shower, blow-dried her hair, and put on a little makeup and a small touch of perfume to her wrists. Then she pulled on her jeans and changed her shirt three times as she debated how much cleavage was appropriate to show when you were about to kick a guy in the balls. She decided on a navy crewneck tee.
Sadie was just feeding Hairy when the doorbell rang.
“Wish me luck,” she told the bunny, then answered the door.
“Heey,” Zack said, holding out a Pagliacci pizza in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
Sadie gave him a huge smile and closed the door behind him.
“You sit down and chill on the couch,” he said. “You’ve had a rough day. I’ll go get a couple plates and wineglasses.”
Sadie sat literally on the edge of her seat on the sofa. Her spine was straight and her eyes were huge. Anyone looking at her through the picture window might think she was watching a horror movie on her TV, but instead, the scary scene she was watching was her life.
When Zack walked back in the living room, Sadie jumped.
“Wow, you are tense,” Zack commented. He flipped open the pizza box on the coffee table. “Dig in.”
It was Sadie’s favorite, the Brooklyn Bridge pizza at Pagliacci’s, but as she took a big bite the pepperoni, sausage, and mushrooms had no flavor because fear had tainted her taste buds.
“I’m just going to get a glass of water,” Sadie announced, and nearly ran into the kitchen.
As she filled her glass, she took a couple of big breaths and told herself to smarten up. Time to put on her big-girl panties, which were definitely only going to get bigger.
Back in the living room Zack spoke to her around a mouthful of pizza.
“What’s up? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this jumpy.”
He eyed her critically with eyes that had seen a lot. Even though he resigned from the Seattle PD before Sadie ever met him, he never quite lost that piercing cop gaze that could look right through you and see your spleen.
“I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Sadie said.
She sat down and forced herself to nibble some more pizza. They ate in silence for a couple minutes and after his third slice of pizza Zack filled up the wineglasses.
Sadie just stared at the glass he put in front of her.
“You know that I’ve been working my ass off for my firm for months now.”
“Yes.” Sadie nodded, relieved the focus would be on something other than her. After Zack left his job at Scene-2-Clean as a trauma cleaner, he’d done various gigs in security and private investigation and finally got on with a big security firm. “How’s that going?”
“Good.” He grinned. “Great, in fact. Today the boss promoted me to lead background investigator for our biggest client.”
“That’s nice,” Sadie said.
“Nice?” Zack’s eyebrows went up. “It’s more than nice. It’s huge. I’ll be working a nine-to-five job. No more weekends and nights. Plus, there’s a huge leap in pay, and the benefits were already pretty good but now they’re great.”
She offered him a more sincere smile. “That’s awesome. I’m thrilled for you.”
“For us,” he said, inching closer to her on the couch and lowering his voice. “It’s good for both of us, Sadie.”
He put a wineglass in her hand and picked up his own. “So I’d like to propose a toast. We went through a difficult chapter in our relationship, but now we’re finally on the right track. It’s all gravy.” He raised his glass. “To us.”
Sadie froze. She didn’t raise her glass and she didn’t meet his gaze, but a sidelong glance showed her he went from confused to angry in a millisecond.
“What’s up?” he demanded, putting his glass down on the table so firmly that a little sloshed onto the table.
She got up from the sofa and began to pace.
“Nearly three months ago you called it off,” Sadie told him. “You ended it between us.”
“I know. What can I say? You were looking for answers that I didn’t have,” he explained.
“I was looking for reassurance that we were still together! I wanted you to say that sure things are tough right now, but we’re still us.”
“I’d only been out of rehab a few weeks. I was confused and trying to stay focused on my sobriety,” he said reasonably.
He got to his feet and walked over to her, putting his hands on her waist.
“I’m saying it now. We’re still us. We’re just trying for a new and better us.”
She stepped back and his hands fell to his sides.
“Except now it’s complicated.” She drew in a breath and said, “I thought we were done and . . .” She swallowed thickly. “I was with someone else.”
She watched him close his eyes, and his entire face hardened as he processed that information. After a few moments he nodded slowly.
“Okay. It happens. We can put that behind us, unless . . .” He tilted his head and his voice grew hard. “Are you still together with this guy? Is that what this is all about?”
“It was a one-night thing, but—”
“But nothing. It was one night and what’s done is done. I never should’ve told you it was over. I was a complete ass for doing that.” He stepped forward and hooked his finger in the waistband of her jeans and pulled her close. In a smoky voice he said, “Give me a chance to make you forget that guy.”
She allowed herself to be pulled close, feeling the stubble of his chin on her cheek. She breathed in the clean, soapy smell of him and felt a huge ball of despair well up inside.
“I’m pre
gnant.”
His arms dropped to his sides and he stepped back.
“Excuse me?”
Hurt and fury raced across his face, and Zack’s words were pure ice.
“I think you need to repeat that.”
“Yes, it was just a onetime thing and I thought we’d been careful, but apparently not careful enough—and now . . .” She threw her hands in the air and tears filled her eyes. “I just found out.”
He turned away from her and walked to the door. She watched helplessly as he slipped his feet inside his runners.
“I am so sorry,” she said weakly. “Please . . . Zack . . . don’t go.”
Zack flung the door open and then froze in midstep and simply stared down the driveway.
“So this is what you’re doing? Just queuing us up like an assembly line?” His words held a kind of cruelty she’d never heard before.
“What?” Sadie went to the door and watched in horror as Owen Sorkin climbed out of his BMW, parked in front of her house. “I never . . . I didn’t know . . . ,” she babbled.
Zack strode down the driveway, propelled by fury. The two men stopped inches away from each other halfway up Sadie’s driveway. She didn’t hear what Zack said, but she saw the punctuation of his words when Zack’s fist connected with Owen’s nose.
Chapter 9
Sadie fell asleep with dried tears on her face and was woken up in the morning by a powerful need to pee and then a burning desire to just get on with her life. She was tired of worrying about Zack, Owen, and the baby and, mostly, she was just tired of being tired.
Drop Dead Beauty Page 12
