Optical Delusions in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  He was going to let me borrow Pigpen? Oh, that’s what he meant by wheels. It was really sweet of the old buzzard, but I didn’t think my reputation could handle the added stink. I pushed the keys back toward him. “Thanks, Harvey. That’s very kind of you to offer, but I can’t.”

  “If this is about her looks, most of that shit will wash right off her. She’s just been sittin’ in the barn for the last few days.”

  That explained the smell. “It’s not that. I don’t want to risk losing another vehicle until Cooper catches whoever is behind this.”

  He grunted and stuffed the keys in his pocket. “You know where to find her if you need her.”

  Aunt Zoe joined us at the table with her coffee cup. “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “You two aren’t going to do anything. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

  She squeezed my hand. “Honey, I love you, but shut up. We’re here to help. Now, you can either take our help willingly, or we can twist your arm until you relent. What’s it going to be?”

  “I’m hoping for a struggle,” Harvey said, cracking his knuckles.

  I looked from her smiling eyes to Harvey’s crumb-crusted smirk. “Fine. But if anything happens to you two—”

  Harvey snorted. “Girl, we’ve been gettin’ in and outta trouble since you were still pissin’ in your britches. Now, what’s the plan?”

  I took a bite of brownie, wallowing momentarily in the warm chocolate goo, feeling a little lost at sea. “I don’t really have one yet, but I want to get Addy and Layne out of here. You haven’t told Dad yet, have you?” I asked Aunt Zoe.

  She shook her head. “I know my brother when it comes to you and the kids. Just the mention of a splinter and he’ll come racing up the mountain with tweezers.”

  “Good. I’ll send Addy and Layne down there for a mini-vacation. We can let everyone think it’s one last hurrah before school starts.”

  “Addy isn’t going to like leaving Kelly or her chicken.”

  “Yeah, well, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

  Harvey’s smirk spread wider. “That’s exactly what I tell my ol’ flames.”

  “You know, Harvey,” I settled back into the kitchen chair, relaxing in the lemony cocoon of Aunt Zoe’s kitchen, and smiled at the codger. “I don’t understand what these flames see in your ornery ass.”

  “I find ‘em hot and leave ‘em wet.”

  “The firefighter’s motto,” Aunt Zoe said, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I haven’t heard that one in years.”

  That reminded me of a certain fire captain and his inquiry. “I ran into Reid this morning,” I threw out to Aunt Zoe with pretend nonchalance, peeking at her as I broke off another piece of brownie and shoved it into my mouth.

  Her cheeks grew pink. “Reid who?”

  “Reid, the captain of the fire department.”

  “Now there’s a salty dog,” Harvey said. “I could take some lessons from him.”

  I shushed Harvey with my glare. “He asked about you,” I told Aunt Zoe.

  “Did he, now?” Her chair scraped on the linoleum. She strolled over to the sink, dumping her coffee into it. “I can’t imagine why.”

  “I mentioned you were single again.”

  She whirled around, her eyes wide. “Violet!”

  “What? You are.”

  “But Reid doesn’t need to know that.”

  “Why not?” I glanced at Harvey, who was watching with squinty eyes. “Reid seems really nice.”

  “That man is nothing but trouble.”

  “He’s a fireman.”

  “All the more reason to avoid him.”

  “He’s got a nice ass,” Harvey threw in, earning raised brows from both Aunt Zoe and me. “What? Just because I say that doesn’t mean I want to pinch it.”

  “Harvey has a point—about Reid’s body, that is.”

  Aunt Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You shouldn’t keep these things bottled up,” I pressed.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Really, Miss Do-As-I-Say? Then why don’t you explain to me why your black funeral dress smells like men’s cologne?”

  The chicken got my tongue. I stuffed the rest of the brownie into my mouth while I waited for her to waver. When she didn’t, I said, “It’s probably just George Mudder’s cologne. He’s kind of touchy-feely.”

  “I know George’s cologne. He’s been a peppermint Aqua Velva man for decades. This is something else.”

  Harvey snickered, earning him another zip it look from me. The old buzzard wasn’t helping one bit. I gulped down the ball of brownie in my throat. “Ummm ... It must have been that guy I danced with at the Purple Door Saloon.”

  “You said you spent the night consoling Natalie.”

  Harvey nudged me under the table. “She doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”

  “She’s a regular Miss Marple.”

  Aunt Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, young lady?”

  “I plead the Fifth.”

  “Was that Doc Nyce who dropped you off a bit ago?”

  Stuck on that one, I nodded and hid behind my glass of lemonade.

  “One of these days you’ll have to introduce him to me.”

  “Doc’s super busy. He’s hard to catch.”

  Her head cocked to the side. “Really? You seem to have done a good job of snaring him.”

  “He’s just a client.”

  “Suzy Sherman said she saw you driving a fancy black Camaro around town yesterday.”

  Son of a peacock! I told Doc that driving his car was a bad idea. “Suzy must have confused some blonde tourist for me. You know how thick her glasses are.”

  Aunt Zoe eyed Harvey. “Have you seen any other fancy black Camaros in town lately?”

  I nailed him with my gunslinger glare.

  He shrugged and stuffed two more brownies in his mouth.

  “Willis”—Aunt Zoe’s tone had a ring of threat to it—“cough up what you know, or the brownie and cookie supply will dry up.”

  Harvey froze mid-chew.

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get that,” Harvey mumbled and skedaddled out of the room, breaking up the showdown.

  I avoided Aunt Zoe’s gaze and changed the subject. “I’m worried about your gallery.”

  “What about it?”

  “What if whoever is pissed at me takes it out on your store?”

  She strolled over and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m covered. You, on the other hand, appear to be a sitting duck. You can use my pickup to get around town until we can find you another vehicle.”

  “No way.”

  “Violet, don’t be stubborn. Just use it.”

  “I’m not. I meant what I told Harvey. Until we figure out who is behind this, I don’t want to risk anyone else’s vehicle.” I rested my head on the table the way I used to during kindergarten naptime. “What a nightmare.”

  Aunt Zoe rubbed my back. “You seem to be full of them lately. I wish you’d consider seeing a therapist about all of this.”

  “I am, right now.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not much help.”

  “You are. More than you know.” The backrub alone was worth the cost of a professional consultation. And the brownies made great sedatives.

  “Violet, what’s going on with you and—”

  “Look who’s here,” Harvey interrupted, strolling into the kitchen, sporting a banana-wide grin.

  I heard Aunt Zoe’s intake of breath as Fire Captain Reid waltzed in. This time, his suspenders were gone, replaced by faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt.

  “I smelled a fire,” Reid said, laughter in his voice. “So I thought I’d look for you first this time.” He aimed his comment at me, but he had Aunt Zoe in his sights.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just gaped at him, mimicking Aunt Zoe.

  “Hey, Zo.” He shortened her already short na
me. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yes,” Aunt Zoe squeezed her hands together and kept her smile shallow, barely bending her lips. “It sure has.” Then she snapped back into hostess mode. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Reid hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’d love some of that lemonade you always keep in the fridge.”

  He knew about Aunt Zoe’s lemonade? I traded raised brows with Harvey, who’d dropped back into his seat, front and center for the Zoe and Reid show.

  “So, Reid,” Aunt Zoe said as she poured a glass. “What brings you to my doorstep?”

  “Your niece.”

  I piped up. “I have an alibi.”

  Reid’s deep laughter filled the silence. “I like you, Violet. You remind me of another spunky girl.”

  I didn’t miss the look that passed between him and Aunt Zoe. What it meant, I had no idea, but I filed it away to bring up later over more brownies.

  Reid took the glass she offered. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Aunt Zoe returned to the counter—keeping the width of the kitchen between her and Reid, I noticed. “Is this about Violet’s Bronco or the Hessler house?”

  “The former. I’m putting the finishing touches on my report and need to ask Violet something.”

  “Boy, you’re not wasting time on this one,” Aunt Zoe said.

  My chin whipped back and forth between the two of them as if I were straddling the centerline at Wimbledon.

  “Coop’s all buggered up about this one. He’s called me three times since lunch, asking if I had it ready.”

  Why was Cooper so antsy about it? Did he know something? Did he have a suspect already? “What’s the question?” I asked.

  Reid dug in his back pocket and tossed a small plastic sandwich bag on the table with an opened book of matches inside it. I picked up the bag and read the label on the matches—Charles’ Club. Aunt Zoe came up behind me, peering over my shoulder.

  “We found that about fifteen feet from your Bronco in the scrub brush bordering the lot,” Reid said. “Do you recognize it?”

  “Don’t answer that, Violet.” Aunt Zoe took the book of matches from me. “Reid, this could belong to anyone. Surely you don’t think Violet burned up her own car?”

  “Of course not.” Reid focused on me. “Have you been to Charles’ Club lately?”

  “Reid,” Aunt Zoe’s voice hardened, her mother-bear side coming out of hibernation. “What exactly are you getting at here?”

  Reid’s gaze turned steely. “Zo, relax. I’m not attacking Violet. I’m just trying to narrow down whether the arsonist used a match from this book to start the fire.”

  I took the plastic bag back from Aunt Zoe. “How do you know this isn’t just random litter?”

  “There is no sign of weathering.”

  True. The cover was still glossy. Flipping it over, I noticed that the strip on the back looked barely used.

  “There are two matches missing from that book,” Reid continued. “I found what I believe is one of those two matches when I first arrived on scene. If these matches were used to start the fire, Cooper and I have a place to start searching.”

  “This is like findin’ a baby dung beetle in a pile of elephant shit,” Harvey pointed out.

  “Yeah. Welcome to my job.”

  I handed the bag back to Reid. “They aren’t mine, but I was at Charles’ Club two nights ago.”

  Reid’s focus honed in on me, reminding me of Cooper in the heat of interrogation. “Who was there with you?”

  “I met Douglas Mann for dinner. He’s interested in buying the Carhart house.”

  “Really?” Reid asked, leaning back on his heels. “How many houses does that man need?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Never mind. Who else was there?”

  “Well, there were a lot of people there that night.”

  “Name the ones you know.”

  “Natalie Beals, Doc—I mean Dane—Nyce, Lila Beaumont, and Harvey.”

  Reid focused on Harvey. “You were there, too?”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t light up Violet’s car. Hell, I’d just put two of my own tires on it.”

  “Due to the vandalism she’d recently experienced?”

  It appeared that Cooper had been whispering in Reid’s ear.

  “Bingo,” Harvey said.

  Reid aimed his next question at me. “Anyone else there you knew?”

  I thought of the pregnant girl with Lila. She was new to me, so, “No, that’s it.”

  “Okay. That should do for now. If I have any more questions, I’ll be back.” He downed the last of his lemonade and held the glass out to Aunt Zoe. “Thanks for the drink, Zo. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  Her lips were tight. “Probably. It’s a small town.”

  “That it is. Willis”—he motioned to Harvey—“walk me out.”

  I waited until I heard the screen door slam before prodding Aunt Zoe. “What was that going on between you two?”

  Aunt Zoe carried his glass over to the sink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Don’t try to sell me a bunch of road apples. There was so much tension crackling between you two that my fingertips tingled.”

  “You’re making too much of this.”

  “He knew about your lemonade.”

  “So do plenty of others.”

  “Come on, Aunt Zoe. What’s the story with you and Reid?”

  She shot me a stern look. “Violet, drop it.”

  “But he’s gorgeous. And that voice. Whew!”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” she wiped her hands on a towel. “If you tell me what’s going on between you and Doc Nyce, I’ll fill you in on why I don’t want Reid Martin to step inside this house ever again.”

  * * *

  I didn’t spill my guts about Doc. Instead, I went upstairs to soak in the tub with some strawberry-vanilla scented bath bubbles and a much-needed steamy romance novel. There was no rush to talk to my insurance agent about the Bronco since I had gambled with liability coverage and rolled craps.

  Several hours later, the kids were on the way down to my parents’ place with Aunt Zoe, who’d insisted that I stay home because my parents knew all my “tells” when it came to lying.

  I sat up from where I’d sprawled on the couch, nursing my wounds with a pint of peanut butter fudge ice cream. On the television, John Wayne and Fabian agonized over a French prostitute. On the couch, I’d agonized over a certain matchbook. Was it just a coincidence, or had my nemesis been sitting in Charles’ Club with me the other evening? And did she have long black hair, sharp teeth, and pointy boobs?

  I picked up the Magic 8 Ball Addie had left sitting on the end table and shook it. “Is Lila to blame for the death of my Bronco?”

  Signs point to yes, it showed through the window.

  I knew it. I asked again, just to confirm.

  It is certain.

  There it was, clear as could be in blue fluid. I imagined taking the 8 ball to Cooper as evidence and chuckled. His head would probably explode.

  My cell phone rang. I grabbed it and looked at the number. My little heart pitter-pattered. “I thought I was supposed to call you,” I said to Doc.

  “You were. What are you doing?”

  “Asking life’s questions. What about you?”

  “Coming up with the answers. What do you need to know?”

  “Whether Lila burned up my Bronco.”

  “Is there a reason you suspect her beyond your general dislike of the woman?”

  “She was at Charles’ Club the night I was.”

  “Is this about the matches?”

  “Yes. Did Reid come to see you, too?”

  “Detective Cooper stopped by with Harvey at his side. Who’s Reid?”

  So that’s where Harvey had disappeared to in such a hurry after Reid left. “Reid is the fire captain. He was there the night of Wolfgang’s fire.”

  “Oh, right. The Sa
m Elliot clone. Is that John Wayne’s voice in the background?”

  “The one and only.”

  “Is someone there with you?”

  “Nope, just me and the Duke. Aunt Zoe took the kids down to my parents’.”

  There was a pause on the other end, then, “What are you wearing?”

  I looked down at dark stains on my T-shirt. “Peanut butter fudge ice cream.”

  Doc’s low laughter made my ear tingle. “Sexy.”

  “If you like that, you’ll dig my ice-cream-cone pajama pants.”

  “You sound very lickable.”

  “How far does your tongue reach?”

  “Want me to come over and show you?”

  My ice-cream-heavy stomach flip-flopped. “Tempting.”

  “Yes, you are. That’s one problem. The other is that I’m stuck here at the moment.”

  I was the one without wheels. “What’s wrong with your car?” I remembered Aunt Zoe’s comment about her friend seeing me driving Doc’s car yesterday. Dread tightened my spine. “Has something happened to it?”

  “My car is fine. But your loveable co-worker is hanging out next door, and I have a feeling he’s looking for trouble.”

  “Ray?” What was he still doing there? Was it something to do with the Mudder Brothers? “What do you mean he’s looking for trouble? Does he have a big crate?”

  Another pause. “Why would he have a big crate? And how would I know if he did?”

  “Never mind. Tell me about the trouble.”

  “He stopped by last night after you dropped me off.”

  “At your office?”

  “Yes. He said he was working late and heard me come in. He claimed to be just making sure I wasn’t a burglar, but the way he kept peeking behind me made me wonder if he was on to my living situation.”

  The dick-cheese needed to mind his own business. “Maybe he was just curious about your office.”

  “Well, that was my thought, but then this afternoon, he stopped over again and asked to use the bathroom. He claimed the one at Calamity Jane’s was out of order.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Let him use it. Denying him would have looked more suspicious, I figured.”

  “Did he see the back room?”

  “No, I had the door closed. But I did have my shaving cream and razor in the bathroom.”

  “That could be easily explained.”