Drop Dead Beauty

by Wendy Roberts

  Mrs. Brun grunted as she lowered herself slowly onto the couch. Sadie took up a nearby chair.

  “Jane was a, um, private person. I’d just recently reconnected with her online. We spoke mostly by Skype and e-mail.”

  The old woman nodded to a laptop set up on a table not far away.

  “Jane got me started on e-mail and Facebook. Martin still won’t use the thing. I even put the Craigslist ad online for him. It’s not so hard once you know how.”

  “Well, I’m in town from California and missed the funeral so I guess I’m just looking for answers as to what happened.”

  “What did you say your name was?”

  “Liz,” Sadie said, deciding to go with the same alias she used with Martin. “I knew Jane from high school and last we talked she seemed really unhappy about something, so I planned this trip up to visit her and then she ends up dead.”

  “I loved that girl like a daughter.” Mrs. Brun snatched up a tissue and dabbed at the tears sliding into the crevices on her face. “Loved her more than that lazy, no-good son of mine. What she ever saw in him I’ll never know.”

  Sadie agreed wholeheartedly with that statement.

  “I’m sure this has been hard on Martin too,” Sadie offered. “He loved her, right? Where was he when Jane was killed?”

  “I’m guessing he was at work, sitting on his ass there doing nothing as usual.” Then she stopped herself. “Wait a second; maybe he wasn’t there. He called that stupid cell phone he bought me, but I never know how to answer the damn thing.” She dug the offending item out of a drawer in the end table and held it up to Sadie as proof. “By the time I find it in my bag, it always stops ringing and then I never know how to get the messages. Jane was going to show me how to text and stuff but that was before . . .” She sniffed and dabbed her eyes. “So that afternoon I was with my knitting group like I am every Thursday evening. Heard my phone go off in my bag and then one of my lady friends helped me by looking up who called. The number said he was at home. I called him back there and he told me about Jane.”

  “So he was at home when he heard about her death?”

  “Yes, but not here home. At Jane’s place, where he lived the majority of the time.”

  “So he called you from Jane’s condo?”

  “Yes, I think so.” She picked up the phone and started pushing buttons. “It would say on this phone if I even knew how to do that.”

  “I can help you with that.” Sadie took the phone and scrolled through the history. There were very few calls listed and only one on the day Jane was killed. She read the number out to Mrs. Brun. “Was that Jane’s number?”

  “Yes. So there you go. That’s where he called from. I guess he was waiting for her to come home. Of course, me and the knitters, we’d already heard about it on the radio. We didn’t know it was Jane, of course, but we heard about the shooting. That’s why I gave him hell for not calling me earlier. He said he was too overwhelmed by grief.” She rolled her eyes. “Too overwhelmed to share his grief with his own mother. Can you imagine? Such a dimwit that boy.”

  Got that right.

  “Everything I read said it was Jane’s ex who killed her. The cop.” Sadie shook her head. “That doesn’t sound right to me because she never seemed to have any hard feelings against him. I met Dean years ago and he seemed to treat her well.”

  “True.” Mrs. Brun balled up the tissue in her fist. “She spoke fondly of him even to me. Guess we’ll never know what causes some people to snap. It was just a real shame things turned out the way they did.” She sighed. “I’m moving into a care home next month. I just can’t keep up with the place anymore. Jane was the kind of woman who would’ve come to visit me. Brought me chocolates. Had tea . . .” Fat tears leaked from her eyes. “Now I’m all alone.”

  “But you have your son; surely he’ll come visit?”

  “That boy can’t hardly wait for the dust to settle under my feet. All he wants is for me to be outta here so he can have the place to himself. Don’t know who’ll do his laundry for him then. I do it now. Jane did it before. The man is useless.” She shook her head ruefully. “He still stays at Jane’s some of the time, but that’ll be over soon enough.”

  “Why doesn’t he just stay at Jane’s condo all the time? Is it too hard for him to be there now that she’s gone?” Sadie tried to sound sympathetic.

  “Nah, that’s not it. Jane never got around to changing her will and she left the damn place to her detective ex.” She clucked her tongue. “Don’t know what’s going to happen to it now.” She opened the drawer to deposit the cell phone. “And look here.” She pulled out a key ring with a large brass letter J on it. “These here are Jane’s spare keys. She gave them to me to keep so I could water her plants when she and Martin went to Vegas last year. I guess I should turn them over to someone, but God knows who. . . .”

  “Actually,” Sadie said quickly. “I could take care of that for you. The lawyer taking care of Jane’s estate is an old friend of mine and I was going to see him anyway, so I can give him the keys.”

  “Oh. Okay.” The old woman handed them over to Sadie. “Guess a lawyer would know best what to do with them.”

  Sadie quickly pocketed the keys.

  “I’m just trying to wrap my head around the idea that she was killed by her ex.” Sadie shook her head. “Maybe all the reporters are wrong. Is there anyone else who’d kill her? Anyone else who she had a beef with?”

  “Nobody I know of.”

  “And she and Martin were doing okay together?”

  “I know what you’re implying, and don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind too,” Mrs. Brun said evenly. “But Martin has no balls and wouldn’t hurt a flea. And not because he doesn’t get angry, because he does. He’s all hot air and bluster and no gusto. Best thing he ever did was get hooked up with Jane. She was good to him. Made him a better man. A better son.”

  Sadie thanked Mrs. Brun for her time and let herself out. The door had just closed behind her when the music from Young and the Restless cranked up. Although she felt sorry for Mrs. Brun, Sadie still hoped that she was wrong. She hoped Martin did have big enough balls to hurt Jane. Sadie was counting on it.

  Spending time with Mrs. Brun made Sadie think about her own mom. She felt bad for blowing off dinner the other day. As she drove to her next stop, Sadie put her Bluetooth in her ear and dialed her mom at home.

  “Hi, Mom. Just wanted to say sorry about not coming for dinner the other day. I’ve been working like crazy.”

  “That’s what Dawn said. She also said you were feeling a little sick. Do you have the flu?”

  “Um . . . maybe.”

  “Well you heard your sister’s expecting again, right?” Mom demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t be going around her if you’re sick. It’s no fun being in your first trimester and coming down with a virus.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “And don’t visit me either because I’m helping Dawn out with little Dylan so she can get a few hours’ extra sleep each day.”

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Did you hear that brand-new SUV John bought her actually burned to the ground? I tell you, they make things like crap these days! Thank God she wasn’t hurt!”

  “Yeah.”

  “Once you’re feeling better maybe you can chip in and help your sister too. It would be good for you to spend time with your nephew.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “I’ve gotta go. I’m on my way to Safeway,” Mom added.

  “Okay, Mom. Have a nice day.”

  “You too, dear.”

  Sadie disconnected the call, feeling like she’d done her daughterly duty and now could safely avoid her mother for a couple more weeks. Next on her agenda was to call Rudie. Her call went to voice mail and she explained to him that the second conjure bag allo
wed her to see the ghost but not communicate at all. She added that she was off to a job site and would check in with him later.

  Sadie drove to Redmond and could smell the small ranch house the minute she got within a couple yards of the place. She had her camera to take before and after photos, and she completely suited up before going inside.

  The house was thick with flies and you could tell the woman had never been a good housekeeper. If she’d had a subscription to Good Housekeeping it would’ve been revoked had any of the editors stood downwind of the place. The furniture was sparse, but the rooms were littered with piles of dog excrement in every corner. The walls were lined with photos of dogs in all shapes and sizes. The woman had obviously loved her dogs, but not enough to give them a decent life that involved allowing them to do their business outdoors and having clean beds or water bowls.

  The woman had died of natural causes while sitting at her kitchen table. Sadie could tell that by the level of decomposition fluids and remains at that location. Sadie snapped photos of that area specifically and then took general pictures of the two-bedroom house, grateful that it was just over nine hundred square feet.

  There was a covered back deck that was a helluva lot cleaner than any area inside the house. After the photos, Sadie set up all her bins and cleaning supplies on the deck area and designated it her safe zone. Then she went to Subway and bought a sandwich, a yogurt, and a bottled water. While she sat in her van eating, she got a call from Rudie.

  “It might just need a minor adjustment,” he told her. “Maybe I should add more bloodroot and less toadflax.”

  “Okay. I don’t know when I’ll be able to drop off the bag you gave because I’m cleaning up a crappy dog house today.”

  “A dog house? As in, a small house made for dogs?” he asked, confused.

  “No, a person’s house that she turned into a large doghouse with crap everywhere.”

  “Oh. Give me clay and paint messes any day,” he said. “Well, you know where I am. Come by when you have time and I’ll see if I can add a few ingredients and take some away.”

  “You know, I might need to be looking at the bigger picture here,” she told him. “Maybe all this isn’t just about having a conjure bag that keeps me from feeling the pain of spirits. What if what I really need is a paranormal and life-sized makeover? Something that’ll fix my love life, my spiritual life, and my business all in one fell swoop.”

  “I’m not God,” he snapped. “For that kind of makeover you need to see a priest.”

  “Okay. Guess I’ll settle for whatever you’re able to work up for me.”

  “It could be worse. I’m stuck with my Hex of Strife forever. I’ll be wearing a conjure bag up until I’m dead and maybe even after that. The only peace I might get is if I come back in my next life as a goat. At least for you there’s an excellent chance your abilities will return, either once the baby is born or once it’s weaned.”

  He made a good point. Sadie decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and go back to work.

  It took Sadie three hours just to take dog excrement from the house. After that she focused on the kitchen and specifically the location where the body had been. She opened the windows to allow in fresh air and to give the flies a chance to save themselves before Sadie began sweeping and vacuuming maggots. The lawyer had told her that all the flooring in the entire house would have to be removed, and he wasn’t exaggerating.

  The ozone generators were still at the site of the home invasion and Sadie made a mental note to pick them up the next day when she returned for the next stage of cleaning. A little after eight p.m. Sadie decided to call it a day. She was slick with sweat and distracted by the niggling recollection that she had Jane’s keys in her purse. She wanted to know if the woman’s condo would yield any information about her death.

  When Sadie had the van loaded up, she headed home to discuss the situation with Dean. She showered first and then told him her idea.

  “You got the keys off old lady Brun?” He clapped his hands excitedly. “Chances are good the cops have taken some of her stuff for evidence. Her laptop, address book . . . those kinds of things.”

  “I have no idea what I’ll even be looking for. Signs she was being overly massaged? What will it matter?”

  “You need to find her diary. She’s kept one since she was a little girl, and very few people know about it. She loved to write things down. Hell, I only found out about it when I started searching for evidence that she was cheating on me with Car Boy.”

  “But wouldn’t detectives have taken a diary too?”

  “If she’d left it out or in a side table, sure, but she wouldn’t.” He grinned wickedly. “Chances are good even Martin didn’t know about it. When I say she wrote down everything, I mean everything. The woman would write down how she felt about comments I made about a meal I didn’t even remember eating.”

  Sadie had always thought keeping a journal would be cathartic and powerful but the idea of writing about her day only appealed to her once she was in bed and winding down to sleep. At that point she always lacked the three ingredients necessary: pen, paper, and a desire to get up from a warm bed to get a pen and paper.

  “So once you found her diary and confirmed she was cheating, she probably stopped hiding it in the same location,” Sadie replied.

  “I never told her I found the journal, because I wanted to keep reading her entries,” he confessed. “Once I read about her sneaking around with Car Boy I kept hoping she’d end it with him. I wanted to give her the chance to choose me. I gave her more attention. Took her away for a weekend to a stupid bed and breakfast upstate. All that kind of BS. But she was tired of playing second fiddle to my job, and there was nothing I could do about people being killed in Seattle.”

  She saw the pain in his eyes and felt sorry for Dean.

  “So eventually she told you about Martin and that was that?” Sadie asked gently.

  “No. I read in her journal that she loved Car Boy and was going to ask me for a divorce. I beat her to the punch. Told her I didn’t love her anymore and that I wanted her to move out.”

  He’d wanted to save his pride and Sadie got that, but she knew it must’ve been a painful kick to his manhood to have his wife leave him for another man.

  “And she never suspected you were reading her journal entries?”

  “Not until recently. I told her about it over coffee and I guess that’s what got her thinking about wanting to get back with me, because she knew what I said wasn’t true. I did love her. Always had.” He cleared his throat noisily. “Anyway, she kept her journal hidden in a big Tampax box in the cupboard under the bathroom sink. Every evening she had a long, hot bath and while the water was running, she wrote about her day.”

  “I guess when you’re married for a while you get to know someone’s routine.”

  “Yes, but I never figured out the writing thing until I suspected her of cheating. Then I began watching and listening more closely. I heard that bathroom cupboard door open and close every evening and investigated. As far as detectives go, I was slow on the uptake. If I’d known she was writing down everything in our marriage, I could’ve been more proactive years before.” He shrugged with resignation and then pointed a finger at Sadie. “You go to her apartment and you find that diary and bring it back to me. I’m sure we’ll find her killer in those pages.”

  Sadie had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

  Chapter 13

  Jane’s condo was located in an older wood building on Cougar Mountain Way in Bellevue. The good news was that it was a ground-level unit with its own entrance, so Sadie didn’t need to go through the building to gain entry. The bad news was that she had no idea if she was going to encounter Martin hunkered down for the night or if he’d gone home to momma. She wasn’t about to take the chance of using Mrs. Brun’s keys and walking in on him, so she decided to do a
little surveillance first.

  After driving around the maze of tight roads within the crowded complex, she backed her Corolla into a visitor parking stall between a Prius and a minivan. From her vantage point she had a clear view of the front door of Jane’s condo. There were two driveways side-by-side with entrances to each unit next to its own drive. Sadie opened the glove box and pulled out her Mariner’s ball cap and put it on. It was about as covert as she knew how to be.

  Sadie cut the engine, then sunk down in her seat and watched for any sign of activity inside. The complex was eerily quiet. Filled with hardworking people who had to get up and rush the kids out the door to school and then fight traffic to get to jobs they hated. Sadie daydreamed about what it would be like to have a baby. To be a working mom trying to make ends meet and still have enough energy to help with homework and read bedtime stories.

  A light suddenly flickered on in an upstairs bedroom inside Jane’s condo. Damn. If Martin was home chances were good he was there for the night. At least she knew he’d be at work the next day, so she’d simply have to swing by once he was at the auto dealership. As the upstairs light flicked off in the condo, Sadie started up her car. She was just putting on her seat belt when the front door opened. Speedily, Sadie turned off her engine and slouched down lower in her seat.

  He stepped out of the condo, locked the door, and then walked down the sidewalk. Sadie’s eyes bugged out of her head. It wasn’t Martin but Emilio, the sexy yet perverted masseuse, and he was walking directly toward her!

  Sadie yanked the ball cap over her face and slouched as low as she could in her seat. She held her breath when Emilio climbed into the Prius parked next to her and didn’t breathe again until he’d zipped out of the parking lot.

  “Holy shit!” she gasped, sitting upright.

  Sadie tugged the baseball cap off her head and ran shaky fingers through her hair as she debated what to do. She felt like peeling out of the lot and following Emilio but realized that she still needed to get inside the condo and find that diary.