Sadie's Spirit by CB Samet (reading books for 6 year olds .TXT) 📖

“Where are we going?” Sadie asked, staring at the blackness around the vehicle. She could barely discern the trees as they sped down the highway.

Sadie hadn’t been out in rural Georgia at night since she had stopped dating Asher. She had forgotten how all-encompassing the darkness could be without city lights. She looked up and could just make out Orion and the Big Dipper.

“We need to brainstorm, and I need food,” Asher said.

Sadie wasn’t hungry or cold or in pain; even sitting in only an itch of fabric didn’t bother her.

As he drove, he began talking. “So, assuming they didn’t find what they were after, we have the opportunity to get ahead of them or catch them in the act.”

“If we can figure out what they were looking for.”

“Yes, we'll get to that. First, we need to acknowledge what we’ve learned so far—”

“That he is a sadistic murderer?”

“No, quite the opposite. Whoever’s behind your murder sent someone else to kill you. They either don’t want to get their hands dirty, or they’re incapable of committing the act themselves, or they need to ensure anonymity. Or any combination of the above. What? Why do you look so surprised?”

“You’re good at this.”

“I spent a year as a psychic detective. We closed eight active cases and four cold cases.”

She was already aware of his success rate, having saved every newspaper clipping she had found relating to his work. She also knew his thirteenth case—the one he hadn’t mentioned—had ended in ruin.

“Would you ever do it again?”

“No.”

“Are you still a paramedic?”

“Once a paramedic, always a paramedic. But I do like to rotate jobs between local EMS and the county fire department.”

Sadie remembered how he looked in uniform. She remembered his appearance when he had brought sick patients into her ICU from other hospitals. He had intentionally shaken her left hand as he introduced himself, subtly turning it over to look for a ring.

“When is your shift over?” he had asked.

“Seven a.m.”

“Can I pick you up for coffee?”

From that morning onward, they had coordinated their time off together for beach trips, hiking excursions, and ski vacations. Every adventure began with excitement and ended in toe-curling, panting, orgasmic intimacy. She loved his energy and his enjoyment of wood crafts. He spent most of his downtime at the fire station whittling wooden figurines of bears or horses.

“Sadie, are you okay?”

She looked over at Asher and noticed the car had stopped outside a diner. Below a purple awning, a red neon sign glowed with the word ‘OPEN.’

“You were glowing,” he said.

“I was? Oh, must be some weird ghost thing.”

He stared at her.

“Shall we?” She disappeared, then reappeared outside his car on the driver side.

He startled, composed himself, and opened his door. “No, that’s not creepy at all.”

“Bring your earbuds.”

“What?”

“Your earbuds. You can pretend you’re talking on the phone so no one thinks you’re crazy.”

Asher turned and dug around inside his gym bag, pulling out white earbuds and slipping them into his ears. He plugged the other end into his phone.

They walked into the diner, and he headed toward a booth in the back corner, far from any other patrons. When the waiter arrived, Asher ordered water and a cheeseburger without looking at the menu.

Sadie watched the waiter walk away to place Asher’s order.

Asher leaned across the table and looked her in the eyes. “Let's start with your last months of activity. Every human contact you’ve had: in person, by phone, on email, and via social media.”

Slowly, Sadie delved into the weeks before her death. Since she had been granted research funding, only half her time had been spent in providing direct patient care. She had lost patients in the ICU, but there were no irate family members as far as she knew. She could recall various interactions with colleagues, but nothing that was less than amicable. She had been too busy to spend time butting heads with people she didn’t like. She mostly avoided them.

She talked about her personal time. She’d had a long phone conversation with her mom one evening, but nothing out of the ordinary. “She’s on me about finding another boyfriend, and how, at this rate, I’m never going to give her any grandchildren.” Sadie squirmed in her seat. “For a year after we broke up she demanded I fix things and get you back.”

“We didn’t break up. You left me.”

“Fine.” Sadie continued with her recounting of the past month, half wishing she had a tale of some sordid encounter with a man so Asher wouldn’t have the satisfaction of knowing she had been alone all this time.

Sadie’s two sisters lived in Florida with their families. They spoke once a month, mostly about her nieces and nephews. She thought of all the family she would never see again. She would never get to bounce little Beth on her knee again.

She finally got to talking about her last week, and a sense of emptiness filled her. The week leading up to her death had been spent analyzing research data and talking to colleagues about a national study. Her life sounded amazingly dull.

What does any of it matter now?

“Why did you stop talking?”

Sadie gave a long exhalation. ”Just . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind.” She didn’t need him reiterating that she had created her own loneliness. All she could see was a sudden death preceded by an unfulfilling life.

“I crunched research numbers over the weekend. We’re six months into the trial, so it’s standard to evaluate the data. Monday afternoon I reached out to Ben Holland in Portland, and Yoshi Fuki in St. Louis.”

“Who are they?”

“They’re principal investigators at their respective sites, so they have access to their institutional data.”

“But you’re a co-investigator and not the principal investigator?”

“For a study this big, the principal investigator needs to have stacked up years of study experience. Louie Lebeau is my PI, and the main PI over the entire study. We both knew I’d be doing the lion’s share of the legwork at our university. This was supposed to be the big breakthrough study I’d get my name on, but it’s a dud.” She had worked hard to ensure that her hospital had become one of the top accruing sites for the study.

“What about your relationship with Louie?”

Sadie shrugged. “Professor Lebeau? Great guy, very personable. He hand-picked me for this project. I was the right type of hard worker in the right place at the right time.”

“What’s his relationship with other people like?”

“He’s well respected, nationally known. I think he’s had a few assistants quit because they didn’t pull their weight. His wife’s a cardiologist. His kids are grown and in college.”

Asher leaned back and crossed his arms. “Back to Monday. You talked