Turning her back on the specter, she opened a nearby pocket door and walked into the bathroom. It appeared clean, but to be sure, she pulled up the window blinds and allowed in some natural sunlight before examining the area more closely.

A couple of minutes later Sadie stiffened with a potent realization. If the guy she had just seen was the one who blew his brains out downstairs after killing his wife, she shouldn't have been able to see him. Suicides didn't appear to her. She stepped back into the bedroom to confront her visitor, but he was gone.

Something about the situation made her uncomfortable. Still, she pushed her uneasy thoughts aside and began her thorough search of the rest of the house. All the other rooms seemed fine. No more visitors appeared, and the scenes to be dealt with were confined to the master bedroom and living room. An upstairs spare room had been converted to an office, and after looking through an already opened file cabinet, she located the insurance paperwork for the house.

Usually Sadie would file the claim herself. If the insurance company balked, she occasionally had to get the next of kin to do it. The more responsibility she took on, the less traumatized the families would feel. She got satisfaction in making sure the families didn't have to suffer through the cleaning. Easing spirits over to the next dimension also gave her a surreal boost, something she hadn't experienced while teaching math to second graders.

With the necessary doc.u.ments in hand, she headed back downstairs and into the kitchen. She made a mental note to ask Mrs. Toth if she wanted all food items in the fridge and pantry disposed of. That wasn't something the families often thought about and it wasn't a service the insurance company would pay Sadie's company for, but she usually offered to take care of it regardless.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed that the dead bolt on the back door was unlocked. She cursed under her breath. It was unlike her not to secure the place when she was inside, particularly if she was alone.

After doffing her gear and stuffing it into a medical waste bin, Sadie locked up the house and returned to her van.

When Sadie arrived at Mrs. Toth's small condo in Bellevue after lunch, the woman insisted on making a large pot of tea. Sadie hated tea, being more of a Starbucks coffee girl. Still, she realized that Mrs. Toth wanted to sit in her cozy kitchen in her pleasant apartment to discuss this unpleasant business, and she was willing to grant the woman that dignity. Having a sit-down with the client was the polite thing to do. Particularly since her clients tended to sob, wail, and occasionally be heavily medicated.

Mrs. Toth did not cry, but she wrung her hands incessantly when she didn't have them wrapped tightly around her delicate china teacup.

"I just didn't know what to do about the house. If my husband was alive, he would've handled it, but I didn't know where to turn. It was a relief to find someone who actually does this kind of thing. Thank you," Mrs. Toth repeated for the fourth time.

"You don't need to thank me, Mrs. Toth. This is what I do. It's my job," Sadie said softly. "I'm glad to save families from the ordeal."

Mrs. Toth nodded, picked up the pretty flowered teapot on the table, and topped off her tea. Sadie covered her own cup to indicate she didn't want a refill.

"You can call me Sylvia," Mrs. Toth said. "I guess you're used to this kind of thing since it's your job." Her face slipped into a bewildered, mournful gaze. "I just don't know what happened." Her eyes met Sadie's. "They were so happy. I even thought they'd start a family soon. Grant had been hinting about filling the house with the pitter-patter of little feet. They'd finally finished renovating that old place, and Grant's business was doing so well that he'd expanded to a second store in Portland."

d.a.m.n. Sadie hated knowing too many details about the victims. It made it difficult for her to remain detached about her work.

"Look how happy they were." Sylvia pulled a photo out of her purse.

Sadie was about to stop her. She really didn't like to look at photos of people when she was working a trauma clean. But now, when she caught a glimpse of the couple, she took the picture from Sylvia's hand.

"How odd. I actually thought he was blond," Sadie murmured.

"Grant? No, he's always been a brunette, like me. At least, like I was before the gray." Sylvia frowned. "Why would you think he was blond?"

Oh, just because some blond ghost visited me at Grant's house. She frowned at the picture. Guess that explained why she was able to see her ghostly visitor. Wrong ghost. The house was old. She must've been visited by a spirit unrelated to the scene she was working.

Sadie handed the photo back and said, "The house was beautifully remodeled, but it has to be nearly a hundred years old, right? Possibly many owners have lived there?"

"Oh yes," Sylvia replied. "Grant and Trudy were quite proud that they'd kept some of the original character of the home. They were constantly scanning antique dealers for unique odds and ends. Just last month Trudy found some perfect gla.s.s doork.n.o.bs."

Sadie wasn't listening to most of what Mrs. Toth said. She just kept thinking, Lord, I hope a half dozen people haven't died in that house. If all the other spirits haven't found their way to the other side by now, I'm never going to be able to get any work done there.

As Sylvia looked sadly at the photograph, the sorrow on her face appeared to age the sixty-something woman another ten years.

"I should've known something was wrong. I should have seen it." Her shoulders fell.

"There's no way you could have known."

It was what families wanted to hear, and more often than not, Sadie believed, it was the truth.

"It really doesn't make any sense. They were happy and finally settled. They moved down to Portland for a few months to get Grant's new sportswear store up and running, but Grant couldn't wait to get Trudy back to Seattle. She hated Portland and he loved her with all his heart. He wanted her to be happy." Her lower lip began to tremble. "He loved her so much, he would never..."

She fumbled then, because of course there was no he would never-Grant had killed his wife, and that was the sickening truth. Poor Mrs. Toth would probably never be able to align the son she knew with the man who had committed such a horrific act.

Sylvia's sobs grew louder, and Sadie decided it was time to call in the big artillery.

"Five years ago my brother killed himself," she began.

It was something she seldom discussed with anyone except her clients. They knew her loss. Could feel her pain.

"Brian was twenty-nine, healthy, had just been promoted, and was engaged to be married. He loved to rock climb and hike. Mr. Outdoors." She smiled at the memory. "n.o.body in my family suspected anything was wrong. He shot himself. It's still hard for us to accept." Truth. "But time does lessen the pain." Big fat lie.

Sylvia sniffed and dabbed at her eyes with a napkin. "And that is why you chose this line of work?"

Sadie nodded. "I like to think that this line of work chose me. My brother was an unattended death, meaning n.o.body discovered his body for weeks." Uh-oh. Too much information. Sadie rushed on. "We actually thought he was away on vacation." She bit down on the inside of her cheek. She wouldn't drag out any of the details that still haunted her dreams at night. "I had to do the cleanup because I didn't want the job to fall to my parents. At that time, one of the police officers told me that many big cities had independent bio-recovery technicians who were trained to perform this kind of cleaning service, but unfortunately Seattle wasn't one of them at that time."

"It must've been horrible for you."

"It was," Sadie said. "But afterward, I left my job as a second-grade teacher and took the training I needed to start this business." She paused and added with conviction, "Families of victims should never have to see what I've seen."

Sylvia Toth nodded and reached out to gently squeeze Sadie's fingers.

Misery loves company, Sadie thought. And people sure bond quick over tragedy.

Without further delay, Sadie brought out her contract and had Mrs. Toth sign for the work to be done.

After leaving the Toth residence, Sadie met Zack at the Carson place and was pleasantly surprised to find that the clean had been completed.

"You must've worked your a.s.s off this morning," she remarked.

Zack looked over his shoulder and said with mock alarm, "You're right! It's gone!"

"Oh, it's still there." Sadie was tempted to pinch his b.u.t.t good-naturedly, but she didn't.

There were always lighthearted moments when a job was finished. Sadie felt particularly good when she'd helped a spirit like Jacob's to go over. It was an endorphin-fueled rush that pooled with relief that she was able to help another soul.

They busily loaded the balance of the supplies from this job into the Scene-2-Clean van. If they hadn't had the Toth scene waiting, they would have headed to a pub to obliterate death with a few beers. Instead, they left Zack's Mustang and drove together to the Blue Onion Bistro for sandwiches. The bright blue and yellow interior of the cozy cafe offered a cheery contrast to the dreary day outside. While they sat, they talked about the c.r.a.ppy weather, agreeing that rain was still better than snow, and they moved on to discuss the Seahawks' chances for the Super Bowl. The conversation covered pretty much anything except work.

They each ordered the turkey club, which came with the best potato salad in the world, but neither of them ate much. Zack didn't like having a full belly when they started a new job, and though Sadie possessed a cast-iron stomach that wasn't affected by the gross-out factor, she hadn't felt a burning appet.i.te for food in months. Not since the fifth anniversary of Brian's suicide, when her mother had deemed it appropriate to have a ma.s.sive banquet to honor his life. Every bite of food had tasted like failure, a reminder that Sadie would never know why he did it.

Sadie ate a few bites of her sandwich and asked the waitress to wrap it up to go as she got up and slipped her arms into her Gore-Tex jacket.

"You feel like driving?" she asked.

"Sure."

Sadie tossed him the keys and they walked out the door and quick-stepped through the drizzle toward the van. Once buckled up, Sadie started to give Zack directions to the Toth house, but he stopped her.

"Give me the address and I'll find it on my own. I don't trust you," he said.

"Sheesh, I give bad directions one time-"

"Yeah, and that one time landed me asking for directions at a gay nightclub on a clothing-optional night," he growled.

"And yet your masculinity remained intact," Sadie said with a smirk.

"No thanks to you."

They drove the few miles to the Toth house in easy silence. When they arrived, Zack hopped out and Sadie got behind the wheel and drove back home to stock up on a few extra things they might need for the large job. Her errand would give Zack the couple moments alone that he always preferred when adjusting to a new job.

While she was at home, her best friend dropped in for a visit.

"You have to see it to believe it!" Pam gushed. "I ran into Marge-remember her from school? She looks years younger. I bet she's had work done. I've been thinking of going for Botox. What do you think?"

Sadie looked over at her friend. Her pale complexion needed something, but it wasn't Botox.

"You look great, like always." Sadie turned away and resumed loading supplies into the van. Pam quickly got the message.

"You're busy. Let's have a drink later."

"I don't think so. This is a new scene, and I'll probably be working late because-"

"Ugh. No details, please."

Sadie glanced sideway at Pam's sour face. She hated Sadie's job and anything related to blood or gore.

"I have no idea how late we'll go today, but you can always try me later."

"Sounds good," Pam said. "Ciao for now."

Sadie had finished packing up while they talked, and now she drove back to the Toth house and joined Zack inside.

She greeted him with a wave. There wouldn't be a lot of chitchat between them at this point, not until they got into the next stage of cleaning, when most of the grisly remains were cleaned and respirators were no longer required.

Sadie moved closer so Zack could hear her through the respirator.

"Why don't you work the upstairs scene and I'll take the main floor?"

Zack gave her a thumbs-up, grabbed the supplies he needed, and disappeared up the stairs.

Sadie liked to begin on the edges of a scene and move in an ever-tightening circle toward ground zero. With a red rubber bin in one hand and cleansers in the other, she headed for the farthest wall, toward the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. Using a step stool she'd brought, she systematically took everything off the top shelf and scrubbed away spatter with powerful disinfectant. It wasn't enough to simply swab off the blood; absolutely everything had to also be decontaminated. It was slow, exacting work.

As she neared the middle of the eight-shelf unit, she found that the concentration of debris was heavier and there were items, mostly books, that could not be salvaged. These things she tossed into the waste bins. Eventually, everything she and Zack used on a job, as well as all of their protective gear, would go into the bins and be taken to the medical waste facility.

Next of kin gave permission for Scene-2-Clean to dispose of any contaminated items, whether real or personal property. Anything that could not be perfectly cleaned had to go. That included furniture, floorboards, and drywall if necessary. Since starting her company, Sadie had developed a newfound respect for high-gloss paint, which didn't soak up bodily fluids.

Where contamination was heaviest, Sadie used emulsifiers to soften dried tissue and fluids. She reached a shelf that held several five-by-seven photographs in matching black frames. As she systematically wiped and sprayed the frames, something caught her eye. She stared at the photo in her hand. A happy couple dressed in their wedding finery, along with their grinning wedding party, smiled back at her. One of the tuxedo-clad men was definitely the same blond guy who had paid her a visit upstairs that morning.

Sadie let out a startled gasp, then stumbled and nearly dropped the picture.

She got to her feet, took a deep breath, and with the picture in hand, went up the stairs two at a time to the bedroom where Zack was working. He was on his hands and knees in a corner of the room, using a sharp blade to cut out and remove the stained carpet and underlay. He was totally unaware of the pretty brunette sitting on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest and rocking slowly back and forth. The savage slash across the woman's throat told Sadie immediately that this was Trudy Toth.

"Oh, I don't need this," Sadie muttered.

"What?" Zack asked over his shoulder.

"Nothing," Sadie said, stealing a sidelong glance at the apparition.

"Do not tell me there's a ghost in this room with me," Zack said with a long-suffering expression.

"Forget that. I need to ask you about this picture." She moved closer so she wouldn't have to shout through her respirator, and thrust the frame in his face.

"What about it?" He stood and took the frame. "You missed a spot along the edge," he pointed out.

"I'm not done cleaning it yet, but that's not what I'm talking about. Who do you see in the picture?"

"A bride, a groom, and, I a.s.sume, their best man and maid of honor. Is this a trick question?"

Sadie took the picture back, frowned down at it, then looked up again. Trudy looked much happier in the photo than she did right now with the grotesque slice in her neck.

"Never mind."

Sadie sighed and headed back downstairs. An unsettling thought occurred to her as she reentered the living room. She knew she wouldn't be able to return to work until she figured this out. She stepped into the kitchen safe zone, doffed her gear, and used her cell phone to dial Sylvia Toth.

"h.e.l.lo?" Sylvia said.

"Hi, Sylvia, it's Sadie. Please excuse me for the strange question, but could you tell me who the best man was at your son's wedding?"

"His best man? Why on earth would you need to know about him?"

"It's kind of silly," she said, but her thumping heart said otherwise. "It's just that I saw their wedding picture, and the man standing beside Grant looks familiar to me. I think I've met him before." Certainly not a total lie.

"Oh. Well, that would be Kent Lasko."

"Kent Lasko," Sadie repeated. "And is he, well, is he still alive?"

"My goodness, of course he is! Why would you think he wasn't?"

"Just humor me for a minute, Sylvia. When was the last time you saw Kent?"

"Not for a while," she replied. "His mother is a good friend of mine. Probably the last time I saw him was at Ramona's sixtieth birthday party, three or four years ago. Ramona moved to Florida a few months after that."

Sadie rolled her eyes and made a huge effort to keep her voice calm.

"Okay, but if you don't mind me asking, how do you know Kent's still alive if you haven't heard from him or seen him in three or four years?" Sadie asked.

"For one thing, he sent a stunning arrangement of white orchids to the funeral," Sylvia replied with a little heat. "Plus Ramona and I still chat on the phone occasionally, and I'm sure she would've mentioned it if her son just happened to die."