Free Dead Suite by Wendy Roberts Page A

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    Osbert’s shrill cry in the background saved her from having to tell her best friend
     that she was afraid Zack would choose to say
adios
instead of
I love you
.
    Sadie shouted good-bye to Maeva over her godson’s cries, then snagged her new large
     purse and headed to her car.
    As she feared, there was no parking on Western and the garage on Lenore was also full.
     She found space in a U-Park lot on First, but then she had to hoof it downhill, taking
     Virginia to Western. Her feet were holding up in the high-heeled boots but only because
     she was bolstered by the idea of the meal to come.
    She walked into Etta’s and gave Gayla Woods’s name to the hostess, who showed her
     to a booth in front of the large picture window. A thirtysomething brunette in a business
     suit was chatting on her cell phone.
    “You must be Sadie?” she asked, covering the phone with her hand. When Sadie nodded
     Gayla pointed across from her. “Have a seat. I’ll just be a minute.”
    Sadie ordered a glass of wine and it arrived before Gayla Woods ended her call.
    “Sorry about that,” she said. “Business. You know how it is.”
    “Sure.” Sadie offered her a tight smile.
    “Well, no reason why we shouldn’t order first and discuss work later,” Gayla said
     brightly.
    Sadie lifted up the menu and studied it intently even though she already knew what
     she wanted. “I haven’t been here in ages and I’ve been craving the fishmonger’s stew
     all day.”
    “Then you should have it,” proclaimed a male voice.
    Sadie lowered her menu to find Owen Sorkin looking down at her with a huge grin.
    “Oh. Hello.” Sadie felt a flutter of annoyance that she hadn’t been warned it wouldn’t
     be just the two of them.
    “When I told Owen I was meeting you, he insisted on coming along,” Gayla explained,
     rolling her eyes.
    “We
are
partners on the house,” Owen piped up in a matter-of-fact tone.
    “Of course,” Gayla said. “So have a seat.”
    Owen sat down in the booth next to Sadie. She slid over toward the window but he only
     slid closer until they were sitting thigh-to-thigh.
    When the waiter appeared to take their orders Owen and Gayla both ordered appetizers
     in addition to a main course, so it looked like there’d be little hope of getting
     out of the restaurant fast. Plus, she was barricaded into the booth by Owen, so it
     would be awkward to try to leave gracefully.
    They made polite conversation, with Gayla doing most of the talking, and man oh man
     could that woman talk. She spouted at a nervously quick pace about renovations involving
     refinishing oak flooring and replacing countertops with granite. Owen put in the odd
     word of agreement but mostly sat next to Sadie, stealing longing glances at her cleavage
     and making Sadie regret her choice of a V-neck sweater.
    By the time the main course had arrived and all the small talk seemed to have exhausted
     itself, Sadie plunged into her fish stew along with the topic everyone else had been
     avoiding.
    “I appreciate you’re in a hurry to do your renovations and now there’s this issue
     at the house,” Sadie began, blowing on a spoonful of stew to cool it off before placing
     it in her mouth. “But I’m sure whatever this minor setback is, the Thingvolds can
     take care of it. Rosemary and Rick are really very knowledgeable about . . . this
     kind of thing. You really don’t need me.”
    “Ahhh, but we do need you. The ghost said so, remember?” Owen said, leaning in to
     whisper the comment softly in her ear.
    “More accurately,” his partner corrected, “someone painted that message—nobody said
     it—and although we’re not entirely sure what the hell it’s all about, we’re determined
     not to leave any stone unturned.” She put down her fork and asked Sadie, “You’re aware
     of the previous history of the house?”
    “Very sad.” Owen shook his head.
    “Yes, a crazy mom poisoned her fourteen-year-old in a botched