by Ann Charles
“Nightmares about live people turning up dead.”
The waitress brought our drinks and took our order. After she left he leaned back in the seat and watched me.
I wasn’t in the mood to have a staring contest. “Why am I here, Detective? Is this about the sale of your house?” I doubted it, but a Realtor could hope.
“Detective Hawke has a theory about you.”
“Uh-oh, this can’t be good.”
His lips twisted in a wry grin, confirming my fear. “He thinks you’re a witch.”
I leaned forward. “Come again?”
“Not the wart-nosed, green-skinned, black pointy hat kind—more of a sorcerer of sorts who dabbles in black magic, voodoo, or other kinds of pagan rituals.”
“He thinks I’m a witch?” I was still having trouble processing that part of his theory.
“I understand his confusion considering your crazy hair.” Cooper sipped his coffee. “But I told him I disagreed.”
“Gee, thanks.” I wrinkled my nose at him. “What is Detective Hawke basing this theory on? Let me guess, he found my flying broomstick. Or was it my jar of frog hearts?”
“He’s gone through all of the case files and your statements and believes there is a reason you have been involved in some manner with all of the deaths.”
“That’s insane. It’s coincidence.”
“Is it?” Cooper’s gaze searched mine.
“What do you think?”
He shrugged. “I think you need to stay away from the Galena House.”
That came out of left field. “What?’
“One of the patrol units called in late this morning and told me he saw you and an Abe Lincoln look-alike leaving the Galena House.”
My cheeks heated. His implicit accusation burned all of the way down, firing up my resentment toward him and his men. “Freesia Tender hired me as her Realtor.”
“I know that, but there is no reason for Cornelius Curion to be in that house with you.”
“He is a client of mine,” I bit out the words.
“He’s already buying The Old Prospector Hotel.”
“True, but maybe he’s interested in more than one property in Deadwood, have you considered that?”
“Is he?”
Rather than lie, I dodged his question, taking a card from his deck. “That’s privileged Realtor-client information.”
The waitress appeared with our side salads and forced our conversation to go nonverbal for a moment. Cooper tried to intimidate me with his squint. I lifted my chin in response.
After she left, he picked up his fork and aimed it at me. “Stay out of Ms. Wolff’s apartment without a police escort, Parker. We’ve left that place taped off for a reason.”
“What reason?’
“That’s none of your business.”
“As Freesia’s Realtor, it is my business. I need to know how soon the apartment will be cleared so that I can take interested buyers through the house without wincing when we walk by your police tape.”
He chomped on a bite of salad. “I’ll remove the tape when I’m done collecting evidence.”
“What’s left to collect? You’ve dusted for prints and taken pictures of everything, and you’re undoubtedly having Ms. Wolff’s body autopsied. Is there something else you are trying to find there? Does it have to do with those shrunken heads from decades ago that you’re trying to tie together with Ms. Wolff’s demise?”
His fork lowered, his nostrils flaring. “Nothing of concern to you. Just an answer or two.”
I didn’t give up that easily. “Like who killed Ms. Wolff and if it’s related to the previous murders?”
“Like why she called you instead of the cops if she knew someone was going to kill her.”
Holy crap. Cooper was actually confiding in me. I lowered my eyes, not wanting to appear to be too much of an eager beaver. I poked at my salad with my fork. “It makes no sense.”
“I’d also like to know what she wanted to tell you that was so damned important.”
“Me, too.” If Cooper didn’t interfere with the séance planned for tomorrow night, maybe Doc would have some kind of answer for both of us. Although I wasn’t sure how I could share anything learned without Cooper going ballistic. “I’d like to know if my son is somehow involved and now in danger.”
“Me, too, Violet.” He lowered his fork, his steely eyes locked onto mine. “Trust me, that’s a top priority.”
“Thanks,” I said, really meaning it.
“Has Conner bothered you since that whole scene on the sidewalk in front of Nyce’s office?”
“No. Why? Can you arrest him for being an asshole?”
He shrugged. “If he becomes a problem, we can discuss a restraining order.”
“Well, well, don’t you two look as cozy as bugs in a rug back here in the corner,” a voice I loathed intruded on our conversation. “I hope I’m not interrupting your little liaison.”
I slapped a smile on my cheeks and directed it up at Tiffany Sugarbell. She looked extra voluptuous today in her black seersucker dress and white silk jacket. A pearl pendant necklace rested perfectly at the top of her cleavage, reminding me of an upside down exclamation mark.
“What brings you to Deadwood, Tiffany?” I pretended I didn’t want to flick her perfectly upturned nose.
“I have a one-on-one with an old flame.”
With Doc, you tramp? She was trolling for a reaction from me, but I wasn’t going to get snagged in her net this time. Been there and done that too many times since falling for him. It was time to cling blindly to some trust.
She leaned closer, palms down on the end of our table. “I promise not to tell Doc that I caught you two back here all alone,” she said with a glint in her green eyes, “sharing whispers and googly-eyed stares.”
Cooper and I exchanged sidelong glances. He raised one blond eyebrow at me; I rolled both of my eyes in return. Someone had been reading too many romance novels lately and it wasn’t me—I hadn’t been reading enough thanks to the utter chaos going on in my world. Maybe I should skip the books and make Doc reenact some hot sex with me.
“Ms. Sugarbell,” Cooper said, turning his cop stare her way. “Is there something you need from us this afternoon?”
She stuck out her lower lip, all flirty and pouty. “Ah, Coopster, don’t be such a frowny face.”
My lips trembled from holding back my grin. “Come on, Coopster,” I couldn’t resist, “turn that frown upside down.”
“Shut it, Parker,” he snapped.
“So, Violet,” Tiffany turned her high-wattage smile on me. Her fangs looked recently sharpened and shined.
I winced in preparation for her bite.
“I saw your billboard out on Interstate 90.”
Many, many responses passed through my brain, most badmouthing my boss. I settled on the safest. “You did?”
“That’s an interesting brand you’re putting out.” Her laughter couldn’t sound any more canned if I’d opened her lips with a can opener. “Get it, ‘putting out’?”
Here came the claws. I’d been waiting for this since she’d caught Doc kissing me in the parking lot.
“Yep,” I said, going with safe-mode again. I stabbed a grape tomato, wishing it was her ass.
Cooper shot me a mischievous look over the rim of his coffee mug. “What are you putting out, Parker? It’s certainly not fires. You keep starting those. Do I need to arrest you for something else?”
“The next time you handcuff me,” I played along, “use the fur-lined ones, please. Last time you left me bruised.” I wasn’t kidding. The cuffs he’d made me wear on the way to jail had left my wrists dotted with black and blue spots.
“I’m surprised Doc likes to share you, Violet,” Tiffany said. “He was rather possessive when we were together.”
More phony baloney crap. “I’m not much for being caged.”
Cooper snorted. “Your feathers were pretty ruffled that time I tossed you behind
bars.”
I thought about kicking him under the table, but figured he’d use it as an excuse to lock me up and keep me away from the Galena House. “No comment.”
“I ran into Ray Underhill the other day,” Tiffany told me. “He mentioned the strategy you’ve been using to lure clients.”
If I were a betting woman, I’d put all of my money on Ray telling her I was prostituting myself. I hoped that was all he’d told her. Don’t let her see you sweat! I clasped my hands together on the table, trying to appear casual and chit-chatty. “Oh, yeah? What did my good buddy Ray have to tell you? I hope he didn’t give away all of my secrets.”
“It was enlightening. I can see that I’m going to need to up my game now in the realty business.” She rubbed her hands together. “I do love some good competition.”
Oh, I knew all about her competitive nature. Too much, actually. There were some things about Doc and Tiffany that I would like to untack from my brain and blow out my nose.
“Especially when it involves using feminine wiles,” she said with an exaggerated wink.
“Parker has wiles?” Cooper asked, and then took a bite of his sandwich. His eyes roved back and forth between Tiffany and me as he chewed.
Tiffany touched his shoulder, tipping her head back and letting out a big, breast-bouncing laugh that stressed the seams of her dress. “Oh, Coopster. You’re so cute. That must be one of the reasons Violet agreed to sell your place.”
Cooper was cute? Sure, if you thought sharks, electric eels, and water moccasins were adorable. I peeked over at Cooper to see if he’d fallen for her eye-catching boobie-trap. He was watching me with a small grin at the corner of his lips, clearly enjoying the show. The bastard.
“Cooper’s no different from any of my clients.”
“Oh, Jeff Wymonds filled me in on your Realtor-client policies. You really know how to close a deal.”
Undoubtedly, Jeff’s conversation with her did not help my professional status in any way, shape, or form.
“Anyway,” Tiffany said, her expression hardening. So much for the nicey-nices, I guessed. “I stopped by to say ‘hello’ and see if there is anything else needed by my client to make the sale of the hotel go smoothly for Mr. Curion.”
“Nope, we’re good.”
“That’s what he told me last night when we went out to dinner.”
She what? With Cornelius? Why didn’t he tell me?
“Don’t worry, Violet. It was a spur of the moment thing. I happened to be in the hotel lobby when he came downstairs looking for somewhere to go grab an elk steak. Instead of giving him directions, I drove him there. That man has some interesting ideas.”
And a broken down rental car. She didn’t know the half of Cornelius’ lore. Actually, maybe she did after having dinner with the infamous ghost hunter. I hoped he’d kept his big mouth shut about the séance—about all of our séances for that matter—and waxed on about his dislike for elk over the after dinner wine.
“Mr. Curion really gets around,” Cooper said.
“He did mention he’s considering looking for another property to purchase.”
“See,” I told Cooper, silently thanking Tiffany for inadvertently helping justify my actions with Cornelius at the Galena House.
He grunted and took another bite.
“Of course I left him one of my cards in case he needed a more experienced Realtor for his next purchase.”
I lowered my hands under the table to hide my balled up fists. The red-haired bitch was moving in on my client. That made me wonder how things with Jeff had gone. Was she playing the puffed out breasts and pouty lip game then like she was here with Cooper? Wait a second, was Tiffany the “field” Jeff was plowing these days? Heat crawled up out of my collar.
“It was good to see you again, Tiffany,” I said, blowing her off as kindly as possible. I wasn’t in the mood to circle and take swipes at each other any longer. “If you don’t mind, Detective Cooper and I have a few more things to discuss about his house before he needs to get back to work.”
“His house? If you say so.” She leaned down and whispered something in Cooper’s ear.
He stared across the table at me as he listened, his face its usual stony mask. I was pretty sure she wasn’t conspiring with him to get me a surprise “we love you, Violet” gift.
“You two have fun now.” She waved her fingers at us. “I’ll be in touch, Violet. Give Doc my love.”
She could take her catty love and go flush it down the men’s urinal. I watched her sashay all of the way out the door. When I turned back Cooper offered me a French fry. “She sure is something, isn’t she?” he said, his poker face on.
“Oh, she’s something all right.” I took the fry and crammed it in my mouth, thinking of all of the adjectives I’d use for Tiffany.
“Uncle Willis would’ve loved hearing that conversation.”
“What did she whisper to you?”
“That’s police business.”
“You can shove your police business where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“Now, now, Parker, there’s no need to …” he trailed off, his gaze locking onto something behind me, his eyes widening. Then he sat up straighter and finished with, “get all pissy.”
“I’m not getting pissy,” I growled.
“Hi, guys,” Natalie said as she dropped into the booth seat beside me. She glanced at me and did a doubletake. “What’s got your face all puckered up like that?”
I scooted over, making room for her. She looked much more comfortable in her blue jeans and red flannel shirt than I felt in my dress pants and cashmere sweater.
“Nyce’s ex-girlfriend,” Cooper said.
“I thought I saw that red-taloned bitch filing her teeth on her way across the parking lot.” Natalie grabbed my arm, looking it over. “Did she break the skin this time?”
“No, but she did leave a few indentations right here.” I touched my back.
Natalie chuckled, stealing a tomato from me and popping it in her mouth. She turned toward my booth companion. “Hello, Detective Cooper. Are you keeping this girl out of trouble?” She pointed her thumb in my direction.
Cooper hesitated long enough to make me wonder if he had a French fry lodged in his gullet. I frowned across at him, noticing that his cheeks had a slightly red hue to them, but there were no signs of choking.
“Are you okay?” I asked him.
He shook off whatever had given him pause. “Sure. I just remembered something I need to do back at work.”
“I see you’re still all work and no play, Detective,” Natalie said, softening it with a grin. She shoulder bumped me. “I think I’ve come up with a solution on how to cover that stupid tattoo.”
“Which one?”
“The one on my hip with shithead’s name in it.”
“A big, solid black heart would do it.”
“That’s lame. I was thinking more along the lines of a sun. I saw some cool sun sculptures down in Arizona. They gave me the idea.”
Cooper pushed his plate away and dropped some cash in the middle of the table. “I need to go, Parker. This should cover the bill.”
“I hope I didn’t interrupt any official police business,” Natalie said.
“We were finished.” His gaze slid to mine, warning me. “For now.”
“Do you mind if I finish your fries?” Natalie asked.
“They’re all yours.” Cooper slid out of the booth.
“Thanks, I’m famished.” She pulled his plate her way. “I hope your Cooper cooties don’t fight with my cooties.”
“They’ll probably try to arrest them,” I muttered.
Cooper shoved his arms into his jacket. “I’m sure our cooties would get along fine, Natalie.”
I pointed at Cooper. “Tell Detective Hawke he better watch out or I’ll put a hex on him.”
“A hex?” Natalie asked.
“Be careful feeding that fire, Parker. It could flare up in your face.” He took a
few steps away, but then came back, his focus on Natalie. “Do something different than a sun.”
Natalie chomped on his French fries. “You have a better idea, Detective?”
Cooper pulled a notepad and pen from his jacket pocket. He wrote something down, and then tore the paper off and handed it to her. “Go see her. You’ll love her original work.”
Pocketing the paper, she thanked him. His skin darkened under his rigid expression. After a nod, he strode out the door.
“Was it just me,” Natalie said when the coast was clear, “or was Cooper off his meds today?”
“Maybe he’s upped his dosage.” I bit into my burger. With Tiffany and Cooper no longer antagonizing me, my appetite had returned and then some. “He even warned me about Detective Hawke, totally unprompted.”
“No way. If he’s sharing police business with you, he must really loathe that ex-partner of his.”
“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. I took another bite of my burger, wondering if Jerry noticed how long I’d been gone.
“What are you up to tonight?” Nat asked.
I swallowed. “Wild and crazy sex probably.”
“With anyone in particular or only in your dreams?”
“I have the kids tonight and Harvey’s on Doc’s couch.”
“Your dreams it is then.”
I wished I had been able to sleep well enough to get a few dreams in lately. I’d almost dozed off at work earlier. “I’m hanging out at home. Why? You want to come over again?”
She bit off the end of a French fry. “I was thinking of paying someone a visit and wondered if you wanted to come along for shits and giggles.”
“Oh, yeah?” I wiped my hands on my napkin. “Who?”
“Rex Conner.”
Chapter Twenty
Wednesday, October 10th
It was a beautiful day to talk to dead people.
At least that was what Doc told me when I answered my cell phone way too early in the morning.
“I disagree,” I told him, yawning. After all of the tossing and turning I’d done instead of getting decent sleep, my outlook had a lot less rosiness to it. I squinted at the clock. “Why are you calling me so early?”
“I have to head down to Rapid City this morning and wanted to talk to you before I hit the road.”
