Drop Dead Beauty

by Wendy Roberts

  “You can stop by but it can’t be a long visit,” Maeva told her. “I just got Osbert to bed and I’m planning on an early night myself.”

  Sadie agreed to keep it short, and it wasn’t long before the two of them were standing in the neighbor’s kitchen. Sadie wore two conjure bags around her neck and smelled like Christmas gone horribly wrong.

  “Go for it,” Maeva told her, pointing to the pantry door.

  Sadie took a deep breath and stepped inside. It took a while but finally the old man appeared and Sadie was delighted. He smiled and began talking to Sadie but his lips blurred and there was no sound.

  With a frown Sadie told him, “I’m so sorry but I can’t hear you.”

  She said the words out loud but no vocal sounds left her mouth either. She shook her head and tried again, but try as she might her lips moved and formed the words but the air around her seemed to swallow the sound.

  She walked out of the pantry and looked at Maeva, who’d been watching the entire thing.

  “What the hell was that?” Maeva asked.

  “I couldn’t hear him and he couldn’t hear me,” Sadie said, relieved that now her voice had returned. “It was like a giant voice sponge was in the room with us, soaking up our words.”

  “Weird.” Maeva yawned and stretched. “Call Rudie tomorrow and let him know so he can make some adjustments.”

  “What’s he going to do,” Sadie grumbled, “add eye of toad and hair of newt?”

  “If necessary,” Maeva said. “I know you’re stressed about everything that’s happened.”

  Sadie had told Maeva about Dawn’s visit to Jonelle’s and the subsequent vehicle explosion.

  “Just lie low right now,” Maeva told her. “Go home and relax. Things will come together. You’ll see.”

  Sadie hoped Maeva was right about things coming together. Right now it felt like her entire world was unraveling quicker than a dollar-store scarf. She went home longing for her own cool, almost-clean sheets and the love of a good bunny. Maybe a woman didn’t need more than that.

  When she dragged herself inside, she informed Dean she was heading straight to bed and then closed her bedroom door firmly behind her. After she dropped her clothes on the floor she pulled on her oversized Mariner’s tee and crawled into bed. She was plugging her cell phone into the charger next to her bed when her phone chirped an incoming text message.

  It was Zack: Are you and that guy still together?

  She bit the inside of her cheek as she carefully replied: No.

  After Sadie hit send she wanted to text more. She wanted to call him and launch into a huge explanation about how she’d slept with Owen because he was sexy and kind during a time when Zack was cold and aloof. She wanted to scream at Zack and remind him that he’d turned his back on her and their relationship. Instead, she stretched the cord so that the phone was next to her pillow and lay there staring at her bedroom ceiling for an hour, hoping he’d send another message. He didn’t.

  In the morning, she once again woke up feeling simultaneously nauseated, ravenous, and heartburnish. She drank some juice, ate a piece of dry toast, and chewed a Tums for dessert. Afterward she went for a jog that was more of a quick-step walk. She was a block away when a sleek BMW pulled to the curb beside her. Owen rolled down the window.

  “Get in.”

  She glanced at him with his nose taped and his eyes blackened, and she continued to walk-jog without responding. His car slowly kept pace with her. He wasn’t giving up and she was about to collapse from exhaustion.

  “I can do this all day,” he told her.

  She thought about that and gave in. Ever so casually Sadie sauntered over and hopped inside his car.

  “Do you always just show up without calling?” she demanded.

  “You texted that you’d call me but you didn’t,” he replied unapologetically. “I figured if Zack’s Mustang was in your driveway this time, I’d keep on going.”

  She glanced at his battered face and burst out laughing.

  “I’m so sorry. It isn’t funny at all . . . but it is.”

  “Glad to know you’re still in there somewhere.” He reached over and poked Sadie in the arm. “I was beginning to wonder where the real Sadie went.”

  “This is the real me,” she insisted. “It’s just the scared and worried version.”

  “I know,” he said softly.

  Instead of going to Sadie’s house, he drove to a Starbucks drive-thru and got himself a coffee and Sadie a water, and then they sat inside his car and sipped their beverages in a long silence. It was Owen who finally spoke.

  “I’m moving back to Seattle.”

  “No!” she shouted, and because she spewed water she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Don’t do that. You moved down to Albuquerque for a reason.”

  “The move to Albuquerque was a temporary one. You knew that. I was waiting for some investment properties to sell down there and most already have. I don’t have to be there for it to happen. I have a house here and I’ve already arranged to move back.”

  “Look, Owen, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here, but—”

  “You’re uncertain about us and I get that,” Owen finished. “But that doesn’t change the situation. I’m still the father of your baby.” He paused and looked at her pointedly. “You did say it was a for-sure thing, right?”

  “Yes,” she said curtly.

  He held up his hands.

  “Good enough for me. I thought about it and realized it would’ve been a helluva lot easier for you just to pretend the kid was Zack’s or just to leave me out of the loop entirely. I appreciate that you didn’t do either of those things.” He drank some more of his coffee. “But like it or not, I am going to be there for you any way that I can. I can do those birthing classes with you. . . .”

  “Lamaze?” Sadie asked with a smirk.

  “Yeah. Those.” He nodded. “And of course, I’ll cover your expenses and pay child support.”

  “I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves here, and I don’t know who I want to be my birthing coach yet, but I’ll keep your offer in mind.”

  “I want to be part of the kid’s life, and if you let me, I’ll be part of your life,” he said firmly.

  The very real thought that this man was now connected to her forever and for always hit her like a smack upside the head and she swallowed thickly.

  “We could try and make it work,” he continued. “Think about it and I promise I’ll respect your choice . . . even if that choice throws a mean right hook.”

  She didn’t tell him that she and Zack were done and buried; she just nodded and thanked him. Then another thought occurred to her.

  “You were with someone else in Albuquerque, right? This shouldn’t interfere with that either,” Sadie told him quickly.

  He didn’t respond, which Sadie took to mean she’d hit the nail on the head. After a few more minutes he drove her home and in the driveway he said, “I know you’re Miss Independent, but I want to be kept in the loop. So when you see doctors and get those ultrasound things, I want to know about it. And if we end up being a couple—hey, I’ll do all that kind of stuff with you even.” He cleared his throat. “And about the money situation . . .”

  “I’m doing okay,” she stated evenly.

  “Sure, but even if you have suddenly won the lottery, it doesn’t matter.” He put the car in park and turned and looked at her. “The cost is half mine. I don’t renege on my debts. You send me the bills and I’ll pay up. There’s no way this is all on you.”

  He laughed quietly and Sadie looked over.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You. Us.” He waved his hands. “This.” He chuckled some more. “Even though it wasn’t planned, I bet we made ourselves a kick-ass kid.” He poked her in the belly.

  S
adie burst out laughing and then thanked him for taking the time to make sure they talked.

  “I want a decision about the you and me thing,” he said seriously. “I’ll be back for your thoughts on that. I’m not giving up.”

  Sadie just nodded. She still felt overwhelmed by the journey ahead, but at least she knew she had the option of having someone to turn to if things got even rockier than they were now. It was pouring now and she hopped out of his car and hustled up the sidewalk to her front door, grateful she didn’t slip and fall on the slippery pavement.

  Once inside she was grateful that Dean wasn’t around to ask her questions. She got into the shower and then burst into tears. The worst part was that she didn’t know why she was crying. Once she finished being a big baby, she checked her voice mail and listened to a lengthy message from an attorney’s office.

  Turns out the lawyer was representing the estate of an elderly woman who died alone in her Redmond home. Her body went undiscovered for a week until her newspapers piled up. She had no family and had left the house and all its contents to charity in her will. Now the lawyer was in charge of following through with her bequest. Part of that involved cleaning up the mess left behind—namely her own bodily decomp fluids as well as the mess of her half-dozen dogs, who’d all been placed in loving foster homes.

  Sadie called the lawyer back and made arrangements to come by his office after lunch to have him complete the contract and get the necessary keys. She disconnected the call and debated how to spend the next couple hours.

  “I could do laundry, or clean Hairy’s litter box,” she said to herself.

  “I have a better idea,” Dean spoke up from the entrance to her office.

  “Have a nap?” Sadie asked hopefully. “Make French toast? Bake cookies? Yummm . . .” She began to salivate at the thought.

  “You keep eating like that and you’re going to have a lot more than baby weight to lose in a few months,” he warned.

  “Thanks.” Sadie leaned back in her office chair. “As usual, your powerful motivational talks have inspired me to do more.” She stretched. “I’m going to nap and then bake cookies and then go to work. I have a very full day planned out. I might squeeze in a little solitaire, if I have time.”

  “Last I heard, Dawn’s new car got blown up. Have you found out who’s responsible? Don’t you even care?”

  That stung. Of course she cared.

  “Isn’t it the job of the police to find out who did it? Why does it fall on me?”

  “Because, Sadie Novak, sometimes you’re more powerful than an overworked cop!” Dean shouted, waving his hands in the air. “You’ve got curiosity and tenacity and I’ve seen you blow a case wide open just by your own persistence!” Detective Petrovich added, “You know the only way to solve all the stuff that’s happening to you is to pull your head out of your ass and work on it!”

  “Well, thanks, Dean. That almost makes me want to forgive you for calling me fat.” Sadie pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes for a minute. “Fine. I’m going to do a little more research on sleazy old Martin Brun the car salesman.”

  His motivational speech sunk in and Sadie knew that her life had become a lot of loose ends that could only be tied up by her own blood, sweat, and tears.

  Chapter 12

  Petrovich left her alone to do some research, but first she texted Dawn: Love you Sis. So sorry about what happened to your new car.

  There was no response.

  Next she Googled the car dealership site and clicked on Martin’s smiling business photo. A new page opened that talked about how long Martin Brun had been hocking cars and relieving the public of any extra cash. There was a link to Martin’s personal e-mail where web surfers were invited to send him their car inquiries. She’d already been told by Dean that the car salesman wasn’t tech savvy and had used Jane to handle e-mails. Sadie wondered who was taking care of those e-mails now.

  She logged in to a generic e-mail account that belonged to her but had no connection to her own name or business. She’d opened the e-mail strictly for contests, spam, and for doing sneaky things like this. From this account she sent Martin a message. She told him that she was a friend of Jane’s who knew her from Jonelle’s Spa. After telling him she was sorry for his loss, she added she was in the market for a car. If he had anyone at all taking care of his e-mails, or had educated himself recently on how to use e-mail, Sadie was certain it wouldn’t take the salesman long to bite.

  Next, she copied Martin’s e-mail address into her search engine to see if anything else cropped up. Lo and behold, she found herself scrolling through a list of old Craigslist ads. Based on every item that he’d sold over the last few months, she was betting he really was hard up for cash. Of the more recent items listed were his and hers bicycles, and in the ad Martin had given out an address for people to swing by and have a look during his garage sale two weeks ago.

  Sadie jotted down the address and got up from her desk to find Dean.

  “Didn’t Jane and Martin live together?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “He was selling stuff on Craigslist and the address he gave a couple weeks ago is in Bellevue.”

  “Bellevue? The loser lived in Bellevue with his mother before he shacked up with Jane. I’m guessing that’s good ol’ mom’s address.”

  “Did Jane own her condo?”

  Dean nodded. “She bought it with the settlement from our divorce.”

  “I thought so.” Sadie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do you think she left it to Martin in her will?”

  “No.” The detective clenched his jaw and a small vein popped out on his forehead. “She left it to me.”

  “Hold the phone.” Sadie tilted her head. “You mean to tell me she divorced you, moved in with her boyfriend, and never redid her will?”

  “She redid it,” he explained. “She just kept me as beneficiary.”

  “Why on earth would she do that? This doesn’t look good for you at all!”

  “Do you think I don’t know that?” He tossed his hands in the air. “She’d been having second thoughts, okay? About me and her.”

  “But she was the one who left you.” Sadie shook her head. “And she was living with Martin and you were marrying Jen. . . . Don’t tell me you two were thinking of getting back together.”

  “I wasn’t. She was.” He offered her a wry grin. “What can I say? I’m a catch.”

  “God, Dean. This makes things even worse! I mean, she kept cashing your support checks and she left you in her will? She should’ve just left a note in her apartment saying, ‘If I wind up dead then my ex did it for the money.’”

  “I know it looks bad and that’s why nobody is bothering to look at anyone else on this!” Petrovich snarled. “That’s why I’m all over you to help me out here!”

  Sadie blew out a long breath and told him she was going to shower and then take a drive to Bellevue to check out the address listed in the ad for the bikes—Martin’s mother’s place—after she dropped in at the lawyer’s office that called her earlier.

  “Maybe I’ll even pop in and talk to Martin’s mom and see if he was up to anything suspicious.”

  Dean was grateful that she was on his side, but Sadie got the impression he was starting to lose hope. If the situation were reversed, she knew the detective would do everything in his power to clear her name. Then again, he actually knew what he was doing when it came to detecting and she was just flying by the seat of her too-tight pants.

  The lawyer was located in a congested strip mall between a QFC grocery store and a shoe outlet place. The receptionist for the lawyer had wildly teased hair and rocket-sized breasts that rested on her desk as she talked on the phone. After a few minutes, Sadie was ushered into a board room, where she explained her contract to a disheveled lawyer who looked a dozen hard years past retirement. He signed with a b
ored flourish before handing over the keys.

  “Good luck,” he said to her. “I was out there once last year and the place smelled like a pile of dog crap and that was before she . . . you know. I hope you have nose plugs or something.”

  “I use a filtered respirator for decomp scenes. It’s like a nose plug, only better.”

  “Then you’re good to go.” He got to his feet and handed her a business card. “Once the place is spic-and-span, you give me a buzz and I’ll be happy to write you a check on behalf of my client’s estate.”

  Sadie climbed back in her Scene-2-Clean van. She decided to go to the closest address first, and that was Martin’s mommy’s house in Bellevue. So as not to draw more attention to herself than necessary, she parked down the road. School must’ve been out for a professional development day because there were kids playing in yards and driveways up and down the street. She passed by a couple girls jumping rope and wondered if her child would be like those girls, energetic with pretty pigtails. Then she caught site of a girl sitting cross-legged on the grass picking her nose and realized it may be luck of the draw when it came to kids.

  She walked up a weed-choked sidewalk to the front door of a brick two-story and rang the bell. The woman who answered wore a tent-sized purple muumuu and looked about ninety.

  “What?” she croaked at Sadie.

  “Um. I’m here about the ad for the bicycles.”

  “They’re sold.”

  The woman went to close the door. Sadie jutted her foot inside and stopped it.

  “Mrs. Brun, I’m also an old friend of Jane’s.”

  The woman pursed her lips and her face pruned into a hundred more lines. Then she opened the door wide.

  “You can come in for a second.”

  “Thank you,” Sadie said.

  The living room smelled of mothballs and stale cigarette smoke. Mrs. Brun snatched up the TV remote and paused an episode of The Young and Restless.

  “I never met any of Jane’s friends. Don’t know if that’s because she didn’t have any, or if it’s ’cause she was too embarrassed to bring them around.”