Drop Dead Beauty (8 page)

“No!” Zenia stuffed her hands into her lab coat. “Some crazy old man snuck in here and killed his ex. This is a spa for God’s sake! We shouldn’t have to have armed security protecting our clientele!”

“True. It would definitely mess with the ambiance,” Sadie agreed. “So did the masseuse get hurt? The one who was doing the woman’s massage when she was shot?”

“Emilio? No. He’d completed the massage and told the woman he’d meet her up front when she was ready.” She ran French-manicured nails through her hair. “Jonelle’s policy is to allow the client relaxation time after their massage. Some people fall asleep. We give them half an hour before we check on them.”

“I don’t understand how this crazy ex could sneak by everyone at the front desk and wander past the relaxation area to barge into a massage room.”

“She was in the last treatment room at the end of the hall. Number nine. Next to the emergency exit. He must’ve come in through there. It’s usually locked but it’s not alarmed, so if a guest was exiting that way into the parking lot . . .” Zenia glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry but I’m going to bring you back to the front. I have an appointment in a few minutes and I have to get going.”

Zenia led the way, and when they passed by a swarthy young man in black yoga pants and a clingy brown tee she nodded hello. He smiled back and his eyes scraped over Sadie in a way that made her get all warm and tingly. When they were a few feet away Zenia leaned in and whispered, “That’s Emilio.”

“Wow,” Sadie whispered back. “I imagine he has an impressive list of regular clients.”

“You have no idea.”

Zenia ducked behind the counter, where the receptionist was on the phone. She reached into a drawer for a piece of paper and handed it to Sadie.

“I hope you will consider Jonelle’s for the wedding. This coupon is good for fifty percent off a thirty-minute massage.” She offered Sadie a pleading smile. “Oh! And please take a sample tube of our lavender body cream.”

She handed Sadie a tiny silver tube.

“Did I hear the word
wedding
?” All of a sudden Emilio appeared from around a corner to join Sadie at the desk. “Don’t tell me another one of our clientele is being whisked away into married life?”

Sadie stood there grinning stupidly, obviously dumbstruck by the sexy masseur. Zenia stepped in to help.

“She’s scoping out spas for her sister’s wedding. She’s the maid of honor and I was offering her a coupon for half off a thirty-minute massage so she or her sister could try our marvelous services here at Jonelle’s. Once they try it, they’ll insist on having the entire wedding party here.”

“Absolutely! You and your sister and the whole family should come for treatments,” he gushed. His mocha eyes locked on Sadie’s and he wet his lips seductively before continuing. “We are the best spa in the area. No other competition even comes close. So you will be back. I insist!”

As blinded as Sadie was by the guy’s appeal, she gathered her wits about her and remembered why she was here.

“Our biggest concern is, of course”—she leaned forward and lowered her voice to just above a whisper—“the incident that happened here a couple weeks ago. That’s why my sister wanted me to check out the place first. To make sure it’s safe.”

Emilio’s eyes darkened, and the swarthy good looks weren’t dampened even by his sorrowful frown.

“Horribly sad and an absolute tragedy!” He clucked his tongue and brought a hand to his heart. “But I assure you a catastrophe such as that would never happen again in a million years.”

Zenia beamed her approval at Emilio’s praise as she lifted her purse from behind the counter and hooked it over her shoulder. After a brief smile in Sadie’s direction, she disappeared into the back of the spa. There seemed to be nothing more to add so Sadie said good-bye to Emilio, who took Sadie’s hand in his to say farewell. Sadie half expected he would kiss the top of her hand in his over-the-top Don Juan demeanor, but he simply shook her hand warmly, allowing his palm to linger slightly longer than necessary.

“You must really love your job,” Sadie said, taking her hand back.

“It can be . . .” He glanced furtively over his shoulder and then back at Sadie. “It can be challenging, but I enjoy the clientele. Please come back soon with your family.”

Sadie promised she would, and then once outside she fanned herself.

It had been a while since she’d gotten so hot and bothered about a man. Then, as if thinking about her trouble with men attracted them, her phone chirped with a message from Zack.

Thinking of you
.

Sadie’s heart ached in her chest. She replied by text, telling him that she was on her way to Auburn to do a cleanup job. She walked around back and headed to her van. She put her mind out of spa mode and into the trauma-clean zone as she started up the van and pulled out of her space. Just as she passed by the rear exit of Jonelle’s, the door opened and Emilio and Zenia stepped outside. As Sadie steered out of the lot she caught a glimpse of the two embroiled in what looked like a very heated conversation. No matter what Zenia and Emilio claimed, things at Jonelle’s Spa were not as rosy and perfect as it smelled.

As she drove slowly toward the exit, Emilio and Zenia both glanced over and caught her eye—but Sadie quickly looked away as if she were looking for an opening in traffic. She eased the large van out onto the road and then tried to refocus her mind on the next few hours and on the house she had to clean. No matter how hard she tried to think of trauma clean and work, her mind kept drifting back to the gathering of cells called a fetus growing inside her belly and how that nearly two-inch bundle of DNA had forever changed her life. She was alternately dismayed and delighted and, by turns, nauseated and starving.

She went to a convenience store and stared with longing at all the items that were off-limits. Just the thought of a massage/snooze had worked up her appetite. Deciding on a compromise, she got both a healthy vitamin water and a not-so-healthy chocolate bar.

By the time she was dressed in a hazmat suit and hauling equipment out of her van on Forest Ridge Drive, the sun was beginning to set. She was all ready to go inside and start work when she remembered the conjure bag in her purse. She ran back to the vehicle and retrieved the smelly necklace. Pulling it over her head, Sadie tucked it inside the disposable Tyvek suit and prayed that Rudie’s little spell would do its part. The last thing Sadie needed was to once again feel like she’d taken an overdose.

She was fully clothed in hazmat gear from the top of her head to her bootie-clad feet when she let herself inside the house. So, of course, now she had to pee. After she managed to doff enough gear to relieve herself, and then re-dress, Sadie went to work. She cut away carpeting damaged by sloughed skin and bodily fluids and placed those pieces into large Stericycle bins to be hauled away. She scrubbed and wiped down surfaces until every part of her body ached and she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Next, she swept up maggots and dead flies, flushing them down the toilet. The entire process was time-consuming and tedious work, but at least she was doing it without any interference from the spirit world.

Her perspiration odor mingled with the dung around her neck, assuring Sadie that she’d never have man trouble again because nobody within a mile radius would ever be able to stand her. It was around one in the morning when she loaded the last of the bins into the back of the van and rolled down and locked the back door. She’d already set up the ozone generators in the house to clean the air and would need to come back to get that equipment after a couple days. Her body was so tired that her legs were rubber as she climbed into the driver’s seat and started up the van.

Before putting the vehicle in drive she took the conjure bag from around her neck and stuffed it back in her purse. Either the thing no longer smelled as bad or she was getting used to having the aroma of excrement and spice and all things not nice dangling around her throat.

She checked her cell phone to see all the calls and texts she missed while hunkered down at work. There were two missed calls and two texts. Zack and Owen. Punchy from fatigue and pregnancy hormones, she began to drive while belting out a less than enthusiastic rendition of “It’s Raining Men.”

Feeling sorry for herself and, once again, a little hungry, she went through a TacoTime drive-thru and ordered a couple tacos for the ride back home. About halfway to Seattle and exiting onto the I-405, Sadie was momentarily blinded by someone driving close behind her with their high beams on.

“Asshole,” she muttered.

Stuffing the last bit of taco into her mouth, Sadie moved to the right lane to allow the vehicle to pass. She caught a glimpse of the dark pickup as it zipped back behind her in the slow lane. Sadie frowned but wasn’t concerned. Although Seattle had some of the most patient drivers in America, it also tended to have a higher percentage of crazies. Sadie blamed the rain.

Although there was hardly anybody else on the road, the truck continued to tail the Scene-2-Clean van into town. She thought she lost him when she hopped on exit 164A for Dearborn Street, but she caught him a couple vehicles back at a red light when she was just a block from home. Now she was getting scared.

It was hard to perform any evasive driving moves in a large, lumbering cube van loaded with supplies. However, she’d learned a trick or two riding with Zack and she knew her neighborhood well. She wasn’t about to be followed home by some loony tune who’d followed her from Auburn. As soon as she got the opportunity, Sadie took a sharp right at a light when the pickup was still a couple cars behind. Then she dodged down a lane around the corner and zipped into the back entrance of a 7-Eleven parking lot. Leaving the vehicle in the dark against the building, Sadie hopped out and went inside.

Watching from inside the store, she waited until she was convinced she hadn’t been followed. Then she got herself some peanut butter cups and headed back to the van.

A couple blocks over, Sadie opened her mouth and yawned loudly as she drove up her driveway and her yawn turned into startled squeak when she noticed someone lurking in the shadows by her front door. A flash of her brights put the man in light, and out of the shadows stepped Owen Sorkin.

“Double damn.”

Sadie pressed the button on her garage door and tucked the large vehicle in next to her smaller car. When she climbed out of the van, Owen was standing right there.

“Hi there.” He grinned his movie-star smile and Sadie scowled back in return.

“It’s two in the morning.”

“Exactly!” He folded his arms across his chest. “I might add, ‘Where have you been all night, young lady?’ But since you’re out in the company van I’ll assume you were working and not just ignoring all my calls and texts.”

“I told you I was working. I told you I’d call you in a few days.” Sadie reached into the van and snagged her purse.

“And I drove all the way up from Albuquerque to surprise you.” He opened his arms wide. “Surprise!”

Sadie tried to look annoyed, but the corners of her mouth began to turn up in a smile despite herself.

“That’s better.” Owen winked. “How about a hug.”

He stepped forward as if to hug her then quickly stepped back.

“No offense, sweetheart, but you stink.”

“I know. I smell like shit.” She nodded toward the door. “You might as well come in.”

“Did you step in dog crap or something?” Owen asked as he followed her inside. “You smell like poop and then, strangely, like tacos and peanut butter.”

“It’s a long story.”

She locked the door behind them and then scanned the house for Detective Petrovich. If he was here, he was hiding.

“Make yourself comfortable in the living room. There’s beer in the fridge,” she told him. “I’m going to shower.”

She nodded to the shower near the garage door entrance in the mudroom. When she worked, she usually stripped at the door and had a shower there so as not to transfer decomp with her into the rest of her house.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait in your bedroom? I have fond memories of that room.”

“No!” she exclaimed sharply and then softened her voice. “Wait in the living room.”

“That’s all right. Come to think of it, I have fond memories of your sofa too . . . and your kitchen counter.”

Sadie went crimson.

“I won’t be long,” she told him. Her bunny had hopped up to Owen and was twitching his nose at him. “Hairy will show you the way in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Come on then, Hairy.” Owen scooped up the rabbit and petted him enthusiastically. “You can tell me all you’ve been up to while we wait for your mistress.”

Sadie lathered up under the hot spray using industrial-strength shampoos, conditioners, and soaps to try and rid herself of her eau de toilette. The entire time she talked herself through various dialogues she could have with Owen.

Dialogue number one:
Hey, you know that time you ended up staying the night and we did it in the kitchen, the living room, and the bedroom . . . ? Well, one of those times we didn’t use a condom.

Dialogue number two:
I know we only had one night together and after that I told you I was going to stand by Zack and try and get together with him, but turns out, you and I will always have something connecting us.

Dialogue number three:
How about we grab a tape measure and see if a baby seat fits in the back of your snazzy little BMW M6 coupe?

She decided number two was the least offensive. To be sure, she lathered herself up a third time and then rinsed and toweled off while practicing the sentence in her head. Finally she couldn’t delay any longer, and she was as de-stinkified as she could be. She wrapped a robe around her body and stepped out into the hall to find Owen standing right outside the door.

“Oh my God! You scared me!” she gasped.

“What’s this?” He held up the book on pregnancy she’d left on the living room coffee table earlier that day.

“It’s a book.” She swallowed thickly. “On pregnancy.”

“I can see that.” His eyes had darkened angrily.