DevilMayRide

2
Sadie was abruptly yanked forward through the doorway and tugged against Zack.
“Are you okay?” His eyes were wild as they scraped over her. “You looked like you were having some kind of a seizure.”
Sadie’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. In stunned silence she glanced down at the baby, who only whimpered softly in her arms. Anxiously, Sadie looked over her shoulder. The ghost was gone.
“I’m okay. I think.”
“You think.”
“Yeah. You can let go of my arm before you snap it in two.”
Zack released his grip.
“What was all that about?”
“I have no idea.” Sadie shook her head. “You called the cops?”
He nodded.
She swayed a little on her feet and he grabbed her elbow to steady her.
“I’m okay.” She tightened her grip on the squirming infant in her arms.
“You are definitely not okay.”
“I’m just a little warm.” She pulled away. “Since when does Seattle get to ninety for a whole week in May?” Sadie shifted the baby in her arms. “And who knew a baby could give off this much heat?”
“So you’re blaming global warming and a newborn for the fact that you look like you’re going to pass out?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll just go sit in the van and run the air-conditioning until the cops get here.” She took a step away, then stopped and said over her shoulder, “Don’t suppose you have a bottle of milk on you for the baby?”
“Nope.”
“How about an ice-cold beer for me?”
He smiled. “Later. I’ll even buy.”
Sadie climbed into the Scene-2-Clean van and with trembling fingers started the ignition. She blasted the AC, careful to keep the baby turned away from the blowing air. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess as she tried to come to terms with the ghost in the shed.
“Your mom isn’t the kind of spirit I’m used to, kiddo,” Sadie told the baby boy.
Using the tip of her finger, she touched the tight dark curls covering the vulnerable soft spot on the top of his head. “Jeez, what the hell happened to you?”
His reply was a snuffling cry as his mouth routed and searched in jerky movements against Sadie’s chest.
“Sorry, little guy,” Sadie said with a sigh. “You’re definitely searching in the desert there.”
It wasn’t long before police and EMTs arrived on the scene with lights blazing and sirens blaring. Sadie was both relieved and a little hesitant to turn the child over to a paramedic.
“He’s hungry,” Sadie said.
“We’ll take good care of him.”
Detective Carr arrived from King County’s Major Crimes Unit. He had a deep frown that only got deeper as he questioned Sadie and Zack. The pair described what they’d heard—the vehicle leaving the area—and what they’d seen; the baby and the goat in the shed. The freckles across the detective’s cheekbones looked all wrong on his hard face. He blew out a hot breath and walked off to examine the scene with the other officers before bringing Sadie and Zack back inside the shed.
“And the baby was stuffed between the wall and this animal?” Detective Carr asked for probably the fourth time. “Just lying there?”
“Yes,” Sadie and Zack replied together.
He shook his head with a look of disgust.
“The whole world’s just going to hell.”
The detective’s shirt was darkened with sweat. He patted the sparse red hair at the top of his head as he stared from the goat to Sadie and then back again, as if the answer were somewhere between the two.
Sadie felt exhausted and weakened from her heated exchange with the ghost.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” she said, a hand on her stomach as she glanced nervously around.
“It’s the heat,” Zack explained to the detective. “We’ll just wait outside.”
“Yeah, go ahead,” Carr said dismissively.
They stepped out of the shed, and Sadie looked around at the swarm of officers and investigators on the property and let out a low whistle. To the uninitiated it looked like chaos, but each person was tending to a precise task.
“This is a big deal,” Sadie said.
An officer shouted something from the far reaches of the grassy area near the tree line.
“It’s about to get even bigger,” Zack said, his tone dire.
Snippets of conversation reached them as the officers gathered in a knot across the yard.
“They’ve found a body,” Zack said.
Sadie closed her eyes and let out a low breath.
“Find out if it’s a young woman with long black hair, wearing a blue sundress that’s soaked in blood.”
Zack folded his arms across his chest and glared at her.
“You and I both know if that’s the ghost you saw in the shed, there’s no way I can walk over there and ask that question without getting thrown in jail.”
“I’ll get you out no matter how many years it takes.” Sadie winked, but when Zack continued to scowl, she added, “Okay, just forget it.”
Sadie’s pocket began to vibrate and she fished out her cell.
“Just wanted to see if you needed me at the meth site when I’m done here?” asked Jackie, another employee of Sadie’s bio-recovery company.
“You’re done?”
“Not yet.”
“Don’t bother coming out here. Something’s going on. I’ve got a feeling the cops will be closing off this scene and we’ll be backing off,” Sadie said.
“What’s up?” Jackie asked excitedly. “Did some crack-heads show up?”
“Nothing like that. I’ll tell you about it when I swing by and help you finish up.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine here.”
“I’m already on my way,” Sadie said, ignoring Jackie’s protests.
After she hung up, Sadie looked at Zack.
“Bet you want to hang out here and watch the show.”
“Maybe for a while, if you don’t need me elsewhere?” He tore his eyes away from the scene unfolding across the yard to look at Sadie. “Does Jackie need help?”
She shook her head. “Wrists slit in a tub is beginners’ work. If she can’t handle that one on her own, we might as well fire her. But since we’re done here, I’m going over there anyway. Just because . . .” She let her words trail off.
“Because there’s something about Jackie that bugs the hell out of you,” Zack finished.
“Not really.” Except the way she looks at you like she wants you alone, naked, and covered in whipped cream. Sadie felt herself blush and cleared her throat.
“She may not be perfect, but don’t be looking for an excuse to fire her. People aren’t exactly standing in line to work in a job where you clean up blood, guts, and meth labs,” he stated evenly. “Don’t hang over her shoulder. Just let the girl do her job.”
“I know. I will.” Sadie watched the Rottweiler attempt to gnaw on Zack’s ankle. “I so need a break from this place.”
The hound gave up on Zack and charged Sadie again. She only let her shoulders drop with a sigh.
“Don’t suppose Mace would work on a dog spirit, would it?”
Zack only offered her a world-weary look. Sadie caught a glimpse of the black metal buried in his waistband.
“I hate seeing you carrying a gun.”
His square jaw hardened and he sent her a dry look. “As long as we’re decontaminating meth labs instead of mopping up body parts, I’ll be bringing it along. I don’t need to be armed to sweep up the dead. They don’t shoot back. Cranked-out freaks looking for crystal aren’t as reliable.” He nodded at her. “You’re licensed to carry a concealed. You should pocket your Ruger when you work these jobs. You never know when a meth cooker is going to return to the scene to resume his work and be pissed off that you’re trashing his supplies.”
“I’ve seen too much blood spilled from bullet wounds,” Sadie said softly. “Guns creep me out.”
He looked to the heavens. “This from a woman who talks to dead people to help them go over to the other side.” He pointed a finger in her direction. “You can bet your ass Egan doesn’t walk onto these scenes without protection, and I’ll bet he doesn’t let any of his crew work a job unprotected either.” He regarded her coolly. “And speaking of Egan, we’ve been covering for him for two weeks and it was only supposed to be one. Call him.”
“I have. I’ve left messages.”
“Try again.”
Sadie nodded and walked back to her van, which was parked in the driveway. The growling dog followed her, gnashing his teeth and nipping at her heels. She turned to him.
“Look, Fido, you’re dead. You need to think about sniffing hydrants and chasing poodles in the next dimension. Take a moment and walk toward the light or the glowing dog bone or wherever it is that dogs go when they leave this place behind.”
He sat down and whimpered up at her.
The medical examiner’s vehicle pulled up in front of the house. It would be a while before they removed the body. Across the field, detectives were busily tending to the business of death. When the ME workers passed by, Fido bounded after them, eager to chomp on someone else’s legs and frustrated at his lack of success.
Sadie climbed into her van and steered out of the Kenmore area. Within minutes she was merging onto the I-5, heading south to Seattle. While on the way, she multitasked and dialed David Egan, owner of Scour Power meth-cleaning service.
“Hey, Twisted Sister, great to hear from you,” he answered. “Bet you’ve been busy.”
That was an understatement.
“Nice of you to answer the phone,” Sadie said drily. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
“Sorry. My cell doesn’t work too well where I am.”
“And that would be where?”
“Out of town.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“I’d rather not.”
Sadie sighed.
“I know I asked you to help out for only a week,” Egan said hastily. “But if you can give me a little more time, I’ll be back up to my elbows in meth and you can go back to being strictly a blood ’n’ guts cleaner.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
She groaned.
“Look, my employees are pretty much handling the load of both companies. Your guys aren’t helping. We just attempted a meth job, but that fell apart, so I scheduled a few days for squat.” She told him briefly about the situation. “Luckily, I’ve got that dripper job in Kirkland next.”
“I’m missing all the fun. How come my guys aren’t helping out?”
“When I’ve called on your crew, they haven’t returned my calls for work.” She paused before finishing. “I heard they’re flying solo. They said they hadn’t been given enough jobs from you lately. Sorry about that.”
She didn’t add that his guys complained Egan had only sporadically given them work over the last month and they were sick of waiting for him.
“Shit, I was afraid that might happen,” Egan said, but didn’t sound overly concerned. “Ever since Seattle PD made it a priority to shut down cookers, business has exploded and new meth-cleanup companies are popping up all over. My guys aren’t stupid. They’ve got the certification to tackle the jobs on their own, so they don’t need me. You were right when you told me last year I should pay my guys more to compete with those start-up companies. Guess I figured they’d stick with me out of loyalty.”
“If business was so big, you should’ve delegated if you were too busy.”
“Yeah, I was busy fixing up my mom and dad’s place. Renovations can take over your life,” he grumbled. “I should’ve just handed the jobs to my guys and I still would’ve gotten the cut. It was stupid of me to expect them to wait around.”
“Speaking of stupid,” Sadie began. “If Thuggy tries to get paid for working that job last week, make sure you remind him that showing up drunk when the job is half-completed doesn’t mean he’ll get paid.”
“Damn. I didn’t know he was a drinker. Maybe he’s just off the wagon.”
“If the smell of him is any indication, then he fell off that wagon and it dragged him through a brewery as it pulled out of town.”
“He didn’t abandon ship like my other guys?”
“Guess the rest of your crew didn’t want to work with a drunk any more than I do.”
“I’ll talk to Thuggy,” Egan said seriously. “You need him. He’s only been with me a short time, but he’s good. Your partner was the one who recommended him.”
“Zack? Really?” That gave her pause. She’d have to remember to ask Zack what was up with that. “Maybe it’s hard to believe anyone named Thuggy could ever amount to much,” Sadie chuckled.
“Thuggy’s short for Thugwold.”
“That’s even worse.”
“He’s always willing to be the first one in to deal with the dangerous chemicals before anyone else gets inside.”
In Sadie’s mind Egan was confusing suicidal tendencies with work enthusiasm.
“Throw him a bone and keep him busy so I’ll have at least one guy on my team when I get back,” Egan asked. “I planned on cutting back on the jobs, so maybe one guy is all I need. You did trauma clean on your own until you partnered with Zack Bowman. You got lucky with him. So to speak.” He laughed.
Sadie cringed at his implication.
“Zack and I aren’t a thing. He works for me.”
“None of my business,” Egan said.
“Get your ass back soon,” she told him sincerely. “I can’t continue to cover Scour Power’s meth jobs and still give trauma clean the support it needs.”
“I’m not saying you owe me, Sadie, but . . .”
But she did. He’d backed her last year when a client had accused her of being a thief.
“I haven’t forgotten,” Sadie said. “I can cover for you for a few more days.”
“That’s all I’m asking. I’ll call you in a few,” he said, and disconnected.
Sadie tossed her cell phone into her purse and concentrated on driving. After a couple weeks on the meth side, cleaning death scenes would be nirvana. Sure, methamphetamines were bigger business in Seattle than murders, suicides, and unattended deaths, and quite lucrative, but it wasn’t as rewarding. Sadie felt more comfortable helping the dead go over to the next dimension while she made sure those left behind weren’t traumatized any more by having to clean up the remains of their loved ones.
In the case of meth labs, those left behind didn’t need sympathy. Nope. They wanted you dead.