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Authors: Wendy Roberts

Tags: #Romance, #Mystery

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BOOK: Drop Dead Beauty
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“You don’t get it. I just beat her to the punch, okay?” Rudie threw his hands up. “I mean, look at me!” He indicated his body from head to toe with a wave of his short, stubby arms. “Everywhere we went people stared at Polly, both men and women. And everyone was thinking the same thing: What the hell is a woman like that doing with such a big little loser?”

“You have a point,” Sadie said.

“Sadie!” Maeva cried. “That’s just mean.”

Sadie shrugged. “Well, obviously she just married Rudie as part of some elaborate plan. It couldn’t’ve been love. Maybe she was after your money. Are you rich?”

“I live in an apartment over my shop,” he said dryly. “Of course I’m not rich.”

“Oh, so you had some kind of powerful voodoo Wiccan spell you put over her to make her marry you.”

“Of course not!”

“Then why on earth did Polly ever agree to marry a short, ugly guy like you if there was nothing for her to gain and you didn’t have some magic spell on her?” Sadie demanded.

“I thought she might, you know, just feel sorry for me.”

“Women adopt puppies because they feel sorry for them. They suffer through bad dates because they feel sorry for a guy. Maybe even a second date. They don’t marry the guy and pledge ’til death do us part!” Sadie lowered her voice. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe she loved you as much as you love her?”

“I just wanted her to be happy!” Rudie shouted in reply. “I wanted her to find a movie-star handsome guy and have perfect children.”

“That’s the lamest thing I’ve ever heard,” Maeva said. Then she nudged Rudie’s shoulder and pointed at the window.

The ghost of Polly was drawing on the window using spilled ceramic paint. A large red heart appeared on the glass and inside she wrote,
Rudie + Polly
.

“Awww,” Sadie sniffed and swiped at her nose. “Damn pregnancy hormones.”

They went inside the shop and Sadie acted as mediator between Polly and Rudie, helping them to communicate back and forth. And when all was forgiven and the time seemed right, Sadie offered to help Polly move on.

“I want you to close your eyes and imagine the most peaceful and relaxing time of your life,” Sadie told Polly.

The spirit did as she was told.

“I’m thinking about the time we took a drive down the Oregon coast and stayed at the B and B,” Polly told Rudie.

“That was a perfect weekend,” Rudie agreed.

Polly sighed and closed her eyes.

“Release your hold on this world and realize that the time will come when the two of you will be together,” Sadie told her. “For now, you can do more good waiting for him on the other side than clinging half to this world and half to the other.”

Polly nodded, but tears leaked beneath her lashes.

“And I’ll always love you,” Rudie said.

“If anyone in your family passed before you, they are there now waiting for you with outstretched arms,” Sadie said.

“My dad,” Polly said.

Her arms reached out and her shape began to dissipate until there was hardly more than a wisp of smoke in the room. Then the edges of the shape began to sparkle and shimmer before the entire shape flickered and all was gone.

Maeva hugged Rudie but Sadie stood separate with a big smile on her face. She had an overwhelming surge of joy fill her heart. The energy she felt when she helped a spirit move on was unmatched by any other feeling she’d ever had, and she’d missed it even more than she missed her double espresso lattes.

“That felt so good,” Sadie said honestly, and then sadly added, “It’s a shame I have to go back to mopping blood without helping spirits just because I’m pregnant.”

“Bring me your conjure bags,” Rudie instructed her. “I’ll go upstairs right now and try and whip something up for you, like I promised.”

“Really?” Sadie felt hopeful and she dug into her purse for both the conjure bags and tossed them to Rudie. “I’d really appreciate having some area of my life back to normal.”

“And by normal you mean helping ghosts like Polly?” Rudie asked.

“I know it sounds weird, but yeah, that’s what I mean.”

Rudie ran upstairs to his apartment. Maeva and Sadie busied themselves sweeping up smashed ceramics and mopping up spilled paint. By the time Rudie had returned to the main floor of the store an hour later, the Pottery Hut had regained some of its dignity, although it was still missing a lot of inventory.

“Okay, I’m hoping this is the perfect mixture for you,” Rudie said, holding out a small aqua-colored flannel bag and placing it in Sadie’s hand. “I added agrimony, bearberry, and mullein.”

“Whatever that means, if it works, I’m happy to take it,” Sadie said. “What about the other black bag? Don’t I have to wear the two together?”

“No. This is a more potent potion that’ll hopefully allow you to be back to your old self . . . speaking to the dead and helping them move on.” He turned then and handed a bright red flannel bag to Maeva. “This one contains mistletoe, pennyroyal, and orrisroot. I think you might be able to put it to good use.”

Maeva thanked him and with a mischievous smile she tucked her own conjure bag inside her purse.

“Thanks for this.” Sadie had her conjure bag in both hands and looked at it seriously. “I really hope this works. It would be beyond awesome to have some normalcy in my life.”

“It’s my best work.” Rudie puffed out his chest proudly. “And you’ve given me my life back, so it’s the least I can do. If you ever need anything at all, please call me.”

“Actually, there’s one favor I could really use. . . .”

“Anything at all,” he repeated seriously.

“Rudie, when was the last time you had a really good back massage?”

Chapter 15

“I’ve never had a professional massage, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Rudie told her, looking confused.

“Rudie, my boy, you’re in for a real treat,” Sadie said, draping an arm across his shoulders as she began hatching a plan.

The first stop on her journey was Maeva’s neighbor’s—to check out the pantry to see if the Rudie’s new potion would work. They let themselves inside the house, and while Maeva fed the cat Sadie went straight to the pantry. When she opened the door she was greeted by the spirit of a bald old man with liver spots on his head trying desperately to grab a box of Twinkies, but his hand kept dropping straight through the shelf.

“Would you be a dear?” the old neighbor asked, pointing to the box. “I seem to be having an uncoordinated day.” He smiled brightly.

“Forget the Twinkies; we need to talk.”

She explained to the elderly man that he had a heart attack in that very location a couple weeks ago and his spirit had yet to move on.

“Is there any unfinished business you have to attend to?” Sadie asked. “Any last requests I can help you take care of? Because most of the time, spirits remain when they still have something they need to accomplish in this world.”

He rubbed the liver spots on top of his head and gave it some serious thought. Then he snapped his fingers excitedly.

“I’ve got it!” he announced. “In my toolbox in the garage is the key to our safety-deposit box. I know Gigi may not even remember it, but we put some gold in that box at the bank forty years ago when we first bought this house. She won’t be a millionaire, but she’ll have enough to stay in the house and live comfortably.”

Sadie promised him that she’d make sure Gigi got the key, and then she helped the man make peace with his own passing. When the edges around his shape shimmered, she knew he’d gone on to the next world, and Sadie was thrilled to be back on target.

“You all done?” Maeva asked when Sadie stepped out of the pantry.

“Yup.” She pointed to the door to the garage off the kitchen. “There’s a safety-deposit key in a toolbox in there. It’s important Gigi get that key.”

Maeva disappeared inside the garage and then came back a couple minutes later with the key.

“Gigi returns tomorrow. I’ll be sure she gets it.” Maeva winked. “You’re back, baby!”

“And it feels great,” Sadie said. “I’m so glad that conjure bag worked. Now I’d really like to make good with the others I’ve missed this week.” She glanced at her watch. “I should be able to squeeze all that in before Rudie’s noontime massage tomorrow.”

Maeva drove Sadie home, and when they pulled into the driveway Owen’s BMW was parked on the street.

“You have to deal with the here and now and not just ghosts,” Maeva reminded her. “You might as well start with him.”

“What do I say?” Sadie chewed her lip nervously.

“You tell him the truth.”

Sometimes the truth was good, but other times it was a pain in the ass.

Sadie left Maeva’s car and walked through the light rain over to Owen’s vehicle. She tapped on the passenger window and he unlocked the door for her to climb inside.

“You should really learn to call,” she told him.

“You don’t always return my calls,” he said, reaching over and placing a hand on her knee. “I don’t know how to handle this. If I push, you pull away. If I don’t push, maybe you think I’m not interested.”

“Owen, we’ll always be connected through this baby,” Sadie said, moving his hand off her knee. “But that doesn’t mean we’re going to be together. You can be in the baby’s life and we have months to figure out how that’s going to work, but I’m not going to be romantically involved with you.”

He nodded slowly and looked somewhat relieved.

“Does that mean you and Zack . . .”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if that’ll ever go anywhere, but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“Sure it does,” Owen said. “Because you love him.”

Sadie leaned over and kissed Owen chastely on the cheek and told him she’d be in touch.

Then she walked inside her house, where she polished off a late-night snack of popcorn and carrot sticks while explaining her plan for the next day with Dean.

“I don’t want to get my hopes up,” the detective told her. “But that scheme of yours sounds like a pretty damn good plan. It’ll be great to clear my name and get on with my life.”

Sadie looked over and smiled wearily at him. She shared a carrot stick with Hairy and ate a Tums for her heartburn, then headed off to bed.

The alarm went off early in the morning. Sadie had a big day planned and was anxious to get started. After she showered and had a breakfast of antacids and toast, she made a call to Harrison. The apartment manager was a little confused as to why Sadie needed to get back inside Yolanda’s apartment.

“The place has been cleaned, like you promised. Your employee, Joe, did a great job,” Harrison told her.

“I’m glad,” Sadie said. “But I neglected to have Joe take the after photos I need for my file.” Which was the truth—Sadie always wanted both before and after pictures for a client’s file and for insurance purposes. Harrison agreed she could come by, and soon Sadie was on her way. The landlord greeted her at the front door and gave her the key for Yolanda’s apartment.

“It’ll just take me a few minutes,” Sadie told him, holding up her camera. “And then I’ll drop the keys back at your apartment.”

Sadie took the stairs up to the second floor and let herself inside the apartment. At first there was no sign of Yolanda, and Sadie began to wonder if the woman had made peace with her passing and moved on. She hoped so. However, just as Sadie was taking the last of the after photos, she caught movement in the corner of her eye. She lowered the camera lens and faced the thin black woman with the angry welts around her neck.

“Hello, Yolanda,” Sadie said.

The woman started, obviously surprised that Sadie could see her.

“I guess you’ve come to realize that you’re dead. Your boyfriend strangled you,” Sadie said evenly. “I am so sorry, but I do want you to know that I heard he was arrested, and hopefully he’ll be in jail forever.”

“I was so stupid.” Yolanda shook her head. “Everybody told me the guy was bad news, but every time he smacked me around I took him back. What a fool . . .”

Sadie agreed but she didn’t tell Yolanda that. Instead she told her, “You’re not the first woman to listen to your heart instead of your head. When it comes to love, we’re all entitled to make mistakes. I’m here to help you move on, and I’m wondering if there’s anything that might be keeping you here. Any last requests?”

Yolanda wasn’t sure but after some prompting by Sadie she did have a thought.

“I pawned my mother’s locket. She passed away a few years ago and left it to me. My sister was looking all over the apartment for it when Harrison let her in to collect my things.” Yolanda looked sad. “I was going to get it out of hock when I got my next paycheck. Could you call my sister and tell her where it is?”

Sadie took down the name of the pawn shop and her sister’s phone number and then helped Yolanda move on to the waiting arms of her mother’s spirit, who was there to greet her.

Sadie returned the apartment key to the landlord, and when she left the building it was with a smile on her face, a sense of accomplishment, and a powerful craving for a bacon cheeseburger. She also had a sense of dread because she knew her next stop wasn’t going to be so easy. Sadie curbed the burger craving by munching on some almonds as she drove the Scene-2-Clean van over to Southwest Brandon Street.

She still had her ozone generators inside the house, so her first step was to load that equipment into her waiting van. When she went back inside, four spirits were waiting for her. They were all in various mangled states. Since they appeared to Sadie as they’d passed, she was very glad she didn’t need to deal with the pain they must’ve felt from those shotgun blasts.

“She doesn’t see us,” a young woman with half her head missing stated to the man next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But she’s looking right at us,” said a man with a gaping chest wound.

The other two victims also chimed in and an angry discussion ensued about whether or not they were visible to Sadie. After a while Sadie just held up her hands and silenced them.

“Yes. I can see you.”

This led to a riot of shouts and everyone trying to talk to her at once. They were cousins. They’d sold crack out of the house, and the guy who’d killed them had discovered their business and had been shaking them down for months. Finally they’d had enough, told him they’d gone out of business and begun stashing money in the wall. The killer had let it ride for a while and then showed up with a shotgun, tied them up, and demanded to know where the money was. Unfortunately, he’d lost his temper before he could get the information out of them.

“Did they catch him?” asked the lady with half her head missing.

“Yeah,” said a middle-aged man with his shoulder blown away. “Did they lock him up?”

“Detective Maureen Downey is working on the case,” Sadie told them.

“But they gotta lock him up!” shrieked the youngest, a boy no older than seventeen who’d taken a hit in the femoral artery in his thigh and bled out quickly.

“I’m sure they’ll catch whoever did this. I’m not a cop. I just do trauma cleanup and I speak to the dead to help them move on,” Sadie told the disappointed crowd. “But if you know who shot you, I could certainly tell Detective Downey.”

“Bill!” they screamed.

Sadie was taken aback.

“Not
the
Bill. The slimy guy who owns the house?” she asked.

“Yup. It was Bill who did us in,” the teenage boy said. “He had people watching the house and he knew we were still in the business. He waited until we’d been at it awhile and was sure there was a lot of money here; then he showed up to collect.”

“I knew there was a reason I hated that guy,” Sadie said, seething.

“Yeah, he’s an ass all right,” said the man wth the chest wound. “Supposed to just collect the rent but he’d show up and demand his cut. We’d give him enough off the top to keep him happy. Or so we thought. Should’ve just kept giving him some cash and then we’d all be alive.”

“Or you could have just stopped selling drugs, gotten real jobs, and lived like good citizens in the community,” Sadie suggested and then she could’ve heard crickets in the room. “I guess when the cops dusted for fingerprints they would’ve thought nothing about finding ones belonging to Bill, since he owned the place,” Sadie told them. “And neighbors wouldn’t have found it unusual seeing him driving around here the night you were killed.”

“I got it on video!” shouted the teenage boy. “On my phone. You could use that!”

“You recorded the shooting?” Sadie asked, shocked.

“No.” He shook his head. “Not that time, but one of the times he came to shake us down for his cut. I stood in the kitchen and recorded him while he was here. He never saw me.”

“If your cell phones were in the house, they would’ve been gathered by police. I’m sure they’ll find that video.”

“Thing is, my phone was left in my car and my car got towed by a wrecker day we got shot. My car died around the corner, so I had it hauled to the garage and forgot my cell phone was in the console.”

Before any of the foursome would relax enough for Sadie to help them over to the other side, they insisted on hearing Sadie place the call to Detective Downey. Sadie put her cell phone on speaker so the entire room could hear the conversation.

“We already have the owner of the house, that Bill guy, on our short list of suspects,” Detective Downey told Sadie. “But if what you’re saying is true and there’s a video of him coercing money from the tenants just days before they were killed, it’ll go a long way toward helping my case.”

Sadie shared with Downey the name of the garage where she’d find the car and let her know that the cell phone should still be in the console.

“Do I want to know how you came across this information?” the detective asked.

“Let’s just say a little birdie told me. If you want, you can tell others that you heard it from an anonymous witness that the vehicle was towed to the garage.”

After she disconnected the call, the cousins all talked at once. They were thrilled Bill would be going to jail and, realizing there was no going back from their own demise, they were also moved to tears. Glancing at her watch, Sadie was moved by a deadline.

She encouraged the group of four to stand in a circle and hold hands. Then one by one she had them say what they were looking forward to on the other side.

“I’m looking forward to no more money troubles,” said one.

“Amen to that,” said another.

“And not having to deal with evil in the world, like Bill,” said the third.

“And seeing my grandma again,” said the teen.

He turned to Sadie. “Will she be there . . . on the other side?”

Sadie smiled and told them all to close their eyes and picture the woman and she would help them over. One by one their images faded and then the shimmer occurred around their edges, which told Sadie they’d made the journey safely.

“And that’s that.”

Sadie dusted her hands off and mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done. Back in her van, she rewarded herself with a drive-thru trip for a bacon cheeseburger. A trauma cleaner can’t live on almonds alone.

Once she was done eating she called Rudie. He was good to go and was on his way to Jonelle’s. The plan was very simple, but they went over it one more time.

“I’m going in for a massage that I booked with nobody in particular,” Rudie said. “But when I made the appointment I informed them that I was into numerology and would like treatment room nine because that was my lucky number.”

“Right,” Sadie said. “And once you’re left alone in the room to recoup after your back rub, you’re going to open the back exit and let me inside, and I’m going to have a chat with Jane to find out who killed her.”

“It’s simple enough,” Rudie said. “I can’t think of anything that could go wrong.”

Sadie disagreed. She could come up with a hundred things that could spoil the plan but she tried to remain positive.

BOOK: Drop Dead Beauty
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