DevilMayRide

16
“Ha!” Scott’s baba shouted. “And here I always thought he was a little slow.”
Sadie resisted the urge to tell the old biddy to shut up and instead faced Scott.
“Talking to your dead grandmother?” Sadie raised her eyebrows and smirked with amusement. “Are you sure there isn’t a paranormal novelist buried in your journalist heart?”
“You called her Ruby.”
“You’re hearing things.”
“You said I re-dressed her in a purple dress. Nobody knows that except me. And you.” His voice was louder than necessary and vibrated with emotion. “How could you know that? Shit. I never believed the stories about you.”
“What stories?” Sadie said, fighting to keep her voice calm. “If I was mumbling something about a purple dress, it was because I’m debating what to wear to my sister’s baby shower.”
He wasn’t buying her denial.
“I’ve heard things about you.” He pointed a finger in Sadie’s direction, and his eyes were big and the look on his face was just plain mean.
“What kind of things?” Sadie asked sharply.
“Things like how some cops say you whisper at crime scenes when you think nobody else is listening. I heard Detective Malone say that last year when he returned to that shotgun scene in Renton, you were seen chatting away in the garage where the murder happened, and he was pretty sure you were talking to the victim.”
“So what!” Sadie shouted back. “It was an ugly scene and it took me two days to mop up the decomp. I’ve heard the coroner talks to the bodies when he’s doing an autopsy too!” She didn’t know if that was true. She was reaching. “So forgive me if I talk to myself when I’m trying to keep my mind off the fact that I’m scrubbing away someone’s sloughed-off skin! Excuse me if I chat away to keep my mind off the fact that there are maggots having a drunken party in a pool of bodily fluids! I’ve known other trauma cleaners who whistle a happy tune when they’re cleaning a scene.”
Sadie’s tone was huffy with indignation. She needed to convince Scott. The last thing she wanted was a television reporter who knew her deepest, darkest secret.
“It’s why all the cops call you Twisted Sister, isn’t it? It’s why the others want me to—” He stopped himself. “This is too weird.”
Sadie used her most reasonable tone. “Look, they call me Twisted Sister because David Egan from Scour Power gave me that god-awful nickname and it was better than some of the others that were being tossed around, so I didn’t discourage it. Think about it. If I were psychic, I’d use my powers to buy a winning lottery ticket.” She shook her head and started to giggle. Her giggles turned into full-out guffaws until she was doubled over and tears blurred her vision.
He just watched her.
“Now, let’s get back to work,” she said. “I’m giving you these pictures, but I was hoping you’d give me some information on that crazy group you told me about when we met for coffee. What did you call them? Wintergreen or something?”
“Witigo. The Witigo Alliance,” he said quietly as he walked over to join her by the computer. “When I tried to tell you about WA on our coffee date, you had no interest.”
“Yeah, well, I was curious enough to do some of my own research on the Web. They seem like a whacked-out bunch. If, like you say, they were involved in what happened to that baby, and if they’re having Black Masses in Seattle meth labs, I figure I’d better find out more information about them, since I’ll probably be cleaning up their crap.”
The photos Sadie took of the Baphomet and candle wax filled Scott’s monitor, and Sadie shuddered before saving them to a file for Scott before disconnecting her camera.
“So if they’re just a bunch of crazy Satanists, why are they moving into meth labs?” Sadie asked him.
“I don’t know,” Scott said, but he sounded like he did know. He just didn’t want to talk to her about it.
“You know what I think? I think Penny Torrez was both a member of WA and an FF biker chick,” Sadie said.
“Yeah. Maybe.” Scott seemed to really consider that. She was just grateful he was no longer talking about her conversation with his dead grandmother.
“Good job. Looks like you convinced him,” Ruby said with a throaty giggle.
The old woman patted Sadie’s shoulder and Sadie fought back the sudden feeling of nausea from her touch. She bit the inside of her cheek and willed herself to ignore the grandmother, even as the old woman began dancing a jig behind Scott as if taunting him. Sadie focused on sending the photos to the printer.
When Sadie looked up, the grandmother was standing behind Scott and then she vanished. Sadie knew the old woman’s spirit hadn’t gone for good, though, because there’d been no shimmer and fading to the apparition that signaled Sadie the spirit had moved on to the next dimension. Nope, Baba would be back and Sadie was hoping to be long gone before that happened.
When she retrieved the pictures from the printer, she handed them over to Scott without looking at them. She’d had enough of Baphomet for one day.
Scott barely glanced at the pictures. Although he hadn’t brought up the Baba incident again, every time he glanced her way, it was with a look of uncertainty. Sadie thought the answer might be to get him drunk.
“You know, I think I’ll take that beer now,” she told him, getting to her feet. “Or something stronger if you’ll join me.”
“Okay.” He nodded sharply.
This time when he left the room, Sadie followed him, stepping over the broken glass and water on the floor. She hoped Baba would stay in the den or remain invisible.
In the old-style country kitchen Scott reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Canadian whiskey.
“Neat?” he asked.
“Water and ice,” she replied.
As she’d hoped, he downed his own glass before he even finished plunking a couple of ice cubes in hers. With any luck he’d wake up in the morning with only the vaguest memory of her mentioning re-dressing his dead grandmother in the infamous purple dress.
“I’m going to go clean up the mess in my office.” He grabbed a roll of paper towels and a broom.
When he left the room, Sadie took the drink he’d handed her to the sink and poured almost all of it down the drain. She sat down at the kitchen table and had the glass, with the remaining booze in it, pressed to her lips. When he came back, she pretended to finish off the rest and handed him her glass.
“Okay, so we’ve got Fierce Force, a biker gang with all the connections and criminal crap of the Hells Angels. And then we’ve got Witigo Alliance”—she shrugged her shoulders to indicate the little she knew of the group—“um, crazy Satanists who like to baptize babies in the carcasses of goats.” She made a face. “Do you think I’m right about Penny Torrez?”
He poured them both another drink and joined her at the table.
“The FF is all about money-making rackets and general lawlessness like prostitution and drugs. WA isn’t about money. They’re about power. If there was one FF member, or his babe, who liked to dabble”—he shrugged his shoulders—“that could be the connection.”
“Like Snake and Penny.”
“Right.”
He was on his third drink now and they weren’t small. He didn’t seem to notice Sadie was only sipping from her glass, barely consuming anything. When his cell phone rang and he went in search of it, she dumped her liquor into his glass. When he came into the kitchen, still talking on the phone, Sadie was back at the table examining her fingernails casually.
After he ended the call, he brought the bottle with him to the table.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “I have another story I’m supposed to check on later.”
He was about to pour himself another drink but noticed his glass was full. He downed it and winced.
“I appreciate you talking to me about this Witigo Alliance thing,” Sadie said. “It’s good to be prepared in my business.”
She bit her lower lip, worried about Dawn. As soon as Scott was safely intoxicated and no longer thinking about Sadie talking to ghosts, she’d make her escape and check in to make sure Dawn was still shopping with Aunt Lynn.
“The WA are bigger than you think.” Scott’s voice was slurred and louder than necessary. “Hell, they could be living down the street. They could be your neighbors.” He pointed his glass at her. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
“What?” she asked, hoping that secret wasn’t something to do with what he had going on inside his Fruit of the Looms.
“It’s all about the O.” He took a big gulp from his glass.
“The O?” she repeated. “As in ‘orgasms’?”
“I’m talking about the Os in the letters.” Then he shook his head. “Never mind. I shouldn’t talk to you about this stuff.”
She gave him a line about orgasms and he hadn’t even used it to make any lewd suggestions? They took their drinks into the living room.
Sadie’s cell phone rang. It was Zack. She took a deep breath and answered.
“Hello?”
“Sadie, about Jackie—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped.
“Fine.”
“If you’re going to talk to me, it has to be about work.”
“Okay.” He was quiet a moment. “Has Thuggy called you looking for work?”
“No. Why?”
“If you hear from him, let me know,” Zack replied, sidestepping her question.
“Okay. I did a walk-through on a Bellevue meth lab today. If we start on that one, I guess I could call him in for it.”
“Good.” He paused before adding, “We’re going to have to talk about it eventually.”
She told him she had to go, and when she hung up, her phone rang again.
She didn’t recognize the incoming number and assumed it was business.
“Scene-2-Clean, how may I help you?” she answered.
“This is Tim.”
“Tim?”
“From Onyx House. Joy looked up your sister’s number in the phone book, and Dawn gave us this number to reach you. I hope that’s okay?”
Sadie sat a little straighter.
“Sure,” she replied uneasily.
“I’m so sorry we didn’t get more of a chance to chat when you visited yesterday.”
“Um. Yes. I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t know Joy worked there or that you two were married,” Sadie said quickly.
“Joy?” Scott squinted his blurry eyes at her and she shushed him.
“When Joy mentioned later who you were, of course I felt terrible about treating you and your sister so formally.”
Sadie didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I mean, after all, Joy was practically a member of your family and just because we got married after what happened to your brother, well, that’s no reason for us not to welcome you and Dawn like relatives yourself.”
“It was just nice to see Joy and your place. You’ve got a nice B and B. Maybe I’ll check in sometime myself,” Sadie said without meaning it.
“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. I guess with the brochures you took, you know that Onyx House offers all kinds of workshops and retreats to heal the mind, body, and soul. We’ve got one tomorrow, as a matter of fact, that’s all about healing after the loss of a family member. I know it’s been six years since you lost Brian, but I’m sure you’d find it helpful and soothing.”
Sheesh! That was the last thing she wanted.
“To tell you the truth, Tim, I don’t think I’m interested. Like you said, it’s been six years since Brian died. I’ve come to terms with what happened. Really.” She quickly added, “But thanks for thinking of me.”
She thought of Rhea and the silver ID bracelet, and Sadie had a dozen unanswered questions. Maybe going back to Onyx House wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Well, maybe you’d like to come over for breakfast, then. I’ll be making my famous cinnamon rolls. Then, if you feel comfortable, you could stay for the session.”
Sadie liked the idea of talking more to Joy and somehow finding out if Rhea was Brian’s child.
“I won’t take no for an answer,” he said firmly. “It would mean a lot to Joy.”
“Okay, then. What time?”
“We’ll expect you at nine for breakfast and the workshop starts at ten thirty.”
Sadie agreed. When she disconnected, Scott was eyeing her with a strange look.
“Life’s a bitch,” he said.
“Yup. It is.”
“So how about you stay the rest of the day and night, Sweets?” His words were slightly slurred. “Forget FF and WA. I’ll give you better Os than you’ve ever had.”
He’s baaaack, she thought.
“I really should get back to work.”
“Stay and have another drink with me first.” “Another” came out as “a nudder” and Sadie figured one more straight whiskey should put enough of an alcohol haze of doubt across his memory that Scott would truly wonder about any recollection of Sadie conversing with the dead.
“Okay, but just one more. How about I make you a sandwich too?”
She walked into the kitchen and put both their glasses on the counter. She opened the door to a surprisingly well-stocked fridge. She knew Scott was physically fit and obviously took care of himself, including with what he ate. She took out a package of low-fat smoked turkey as well as some light mayo and a jar of Dijon mustard. She put it all on the counter and found the bread in a cupboard. Once she got the sandwiches made, she worked on the drinks. She added tap water and lots of ice to the whiskey in her glass and poured the remaining drops of the whiskey in his.
She decided to look for a new bottle. She opened the cupboard she thought he’d kept the booze in, but oops! It was the wrong one. This cupboard didn’t hold liquor, only a hodgepodge of loose photos. She reached with her other hand for the next maple cabinet door, simultaneously closing the first one she’d opened, but stopped short when the picture on top of the pile caught her eye.
Sadie reached and pulled out the photo, and her blood heated. It was a picture of Sadie cradling her bunny, Hairy, in her arms. She was in the kitchen of her home. Wearing nothing but the long Mariners T she slept in. She thanked God the T-shirt was long enough to cover the bare essentials. She snagged a handful of the pictures and they were all of her, some of them going back a month.
Why the hell would Scott be taking pictures of her? Was he doing some sort of documentary on the life of a trauma-clean woman? Fury rolled through her. She was going to kill him!
With the photos in hand she stormed back into the living room to tear him a new asshole. When she entered the room, though, she stopped short. Scott was slumped over on the sofa and snoring softly. Damn. It was the perfect opportunity for her to leave. Still, how could she let him get away with such an invasion of her privacy?
She couldn’t. But there would be time in the future to exact revenge. Today she just needed to make sure Scott Reed wouldn’t be blabbing on the news about her talking to the dead.
So instead of throttling Scott, she made her way back into the kitchen and carefully retrieved all the pictures from the cupboard. Behind the stack of pictures was an impressive camera. Without hesitation Sadie took the camera, opened a few compartments, then took some apple juice from the fridge and drizzled some inside. Not enough that it was dripping wet, but enough that it should seize up working mechanisms of the camera. She knew it wouldn’t stop him for long because he could easily pick up another camera, but Sadie felt much better exacting a little revenge.
Sadie walked away and cut through the living room on her way to the front door.
“Yanno,” Scott murmured, opening one droopy eye. “I’m gonna win an award with my Witigo story.”
Sadie didn’t reply. When he drifted off again, she stuffed the pictures he’d taken into her purse and headed for the door. She was slipping on her shoes when Ruby appeared again.
“You’ll come back again, won’t you?” she asked Sadie. “It’s kind of lonely with nobody to talk to.”
Sadie slipped her feet back out of her shoes and nodded for Ruby to follow her to the kitchen.
“You don’t have to stay here in this in-between state,” Sadie told her in a soft tone. “How long have you been dead?”
“It’ll be two years next month,” she answered. “It’s been great not having Alzheimer’s kicking me around, but it’s been lonely with nobody to talk to. Can you show Scott how to talk to me? I miss him.”
“It’s not a skill I can teach,” Sadie said. “But like I was telling you, it’s time for you to leave this place. Go to be with those who went before you. You must have family who have passed?”
“They’ve forgotten me.” She sniffed. “Norman, my husband, and my mom and dad.”
“Ruby, I think they are there waiting for you, but you haven’t moved on because you have unfinished business here.”
“Like what?” She looked skeptical.
“If you don’t know, I can’t guess,” Sadie said. “Maybe there’s a message you want me to give to the family remaining?”
“Scott’s mother and father live in California.” She blew a raspberry at the thought of them. “Couple of nitwits, the two of them. Scotty-boy doesn’t have a thing to do with them since they told him he was wasting his life going into journalism. The only thing right my son and his good-for-nothing wife ever did was give birth to that boy.”
“Scott doesn’t have any brothers and sisters?” Sadie asked curiously.
Ruby looked at Sadie and shook her head.
“I know what it is,” she said suddenly. “I’ve got a message to give to Scott. You need to tell him he’s good enough. He doesn’t need to dig so deep in his stories that they bury him and suck him down. He’s good enough without that. He doesn’t need to lower himself.” She frowned at Sadie. “You gonna write this down? It’s my last wish.”
Sadie took a pen and scrap paper from her purse and scribbled down, “You’re good enough.”
“Anything else?” Sadie asked.
Ruby shook her head.
Sadie thought of the pictures in her hand. She didn’t want to give Scott any message, but she told Ruby she would. Then Sadie told her it was time.
“The best way is to allow a kind of peace to come over you,” Sadie instructed. “Close your eyes, envision all those loved ones who have gone on ahead of you, and visualize yourself reaching for them.”
The essence that was Ruby Reed began to shimmer around the edges. Within seconds, the ghost faded until Ruby was completely transparent. The woman blew Sadie a kiss before she was totally gone.
It felt good. More than good. Great. Sadie felt giddy for helping Ruby Reed move on spiritually. She’d missed that feeling and the delight of it carried her until she’d left Scott’s house and was in her van. Then she looked down at the scrap paper in her hand. Ruby’s last message to Scott.
Sadie had never ignored a spirit’s request. There was a first time for everything.