A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7)

by Ann Charles

  Addy shot him a shush-it glare. “It was just the usual stuff, Mom. Nothing major.”

  “What’s the usual stuff entail?” Curiosity had me fishing for information in spite of Aunt Zoe’s narrow-eyed look.

  “Doc showed us how—,” Addy started, but Layne cut her off. “Running and jumping jacks, that’s all.”

  “Rude!” Addy reached across the couch and punched her brother in the arm.

  Layne punched her back. “Stop hitting me, brat.”

  And we were back to normal. I pulled them apart and told them both to behave or I’d send them to a military school in the Antarctic. Addy blamed Layne for making her mad. Layne, on the other hand, informed me there were no military schools down there, only scientific research centers, along with Emperor penguins and several other species of animals that turned into blah, blah, blah before they reached my brain.

  I grabbed a couple pieces of pizza in the kitchen, noticing Harvey was missing. “Where’s the old buzzard?” I hollered. Had he left or was his plumbing giving him grief again?

  “He ran home to grab some clothes for tomorrow since he’s spending the night,” Aunt Zoe answered. “When are you leaving?”

  We’d discussed Doc and me having a night out earlier this afternoon. I hadn’t told her why, only the where part. “In about a half an hour.”

  I had enough time to wrangle my hair into something less wild and frizzy, brush the pizza off my teeth and tongue, and then slip into something sexy that might coerce Doc to take me somewhere private and do wicked things to me … after we finished hashing out Cooper’s questions. My thigh throbbed at the memory of the detective’s painful grip. The bruises were a colorful abstract masterpiece of blues, purples, blacks, and a hint of green. The next time I was in his office, I was going to take the grip-strengthener deal he liked to squeeze and throw it in the trash.

  Thirty minutes later, dressed in a red button-up little sweater that hugged my chest too tight to be worn to work, a black mini-skirt, thick tights, and knee-high boots, I was ready to woo one Dane R. Nyce.

  Harvey whistled as I came down the stairs. “You look like a red heifer in a flowerbed.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “It’s good and bad for Doc. Like smellin’ whiskey through a jailhouse window.”

  “I’m going to take that as a compliment then.” I grabbed my long black wool coat from the closet. “Keep ‘em safe, old man.”

  He grinned. “Bessie and I will do our best.”

  “Bessie’s here?” When he nodded, I pointed at him. “Don’t shoot anyone we like. And if Reid stops by, keep that shotgun away from Aunt Zoe.”

  He snickered and headed into the living room where Aunt Zoe and the kids were watching something about sharks.

  “Have fun,” Aunt Zoe called as I blew her and the kids a kiss goodbye and headed out to my SUV. The sky was still spitting snow, but the ground was melting it as soon as it touched down. I’d have to be careful on the way home, though.

  The Purple Door Saloon was having a slow night. No doubt the threat of snow was keeping the non-locals away as well as a good number of Deadwood’s finest drinkers. The bar was only about half full, if that. The grumpy, blonde-hating bartender wasn’t behind the bar for once, replaced by one of the usual waitresses.

  I took off my coat while I searched the booths and tables for Doc but didn’t see him.

  “He’s playing pool,” one of the waitresses said as she set a tray down on the bar. When I looked at her like she was speaking Chinese, she added, “You’re looking for Doc, right?”

  She knew his name, huh? What else did she know about him? If he wore boxers or briefs? Then I remembered that the owner of the place was a client of Doc’s and smacked down the jealous ogre in my chest.

  Thanking her, I ordered a rum and Coke on the rocks from the bartender. I was in the mood for something different tonight from my usual tequila hit.

  Drink and coat in hand, I made my way through to where Doc was leaning over the pool table, lining up a shot. He looked hot in his faded jeans and gray thermal. I should probably remove them to cool him down. I was only thinking of his health, of course.

  After hanging my coat on one of the wall hooks, I moved to the wall opposite him, keeping the pool table between us. I tried to strike a pose with one knee raised, foot planted on the wall, but my drink slipped in my grasp and almost dumped down my sweater.

  Doc made the shot and then stood with his pool cue in hand, watching as I mopped up the dribbles on my sweater with a skimpy one-ply bar napkin. Good thing I hadn’t worn white.

  “So much for trying to be sexy,” I said, wadding up the napkin.

  “Boots, how many times do I have to tell you that you don’t have to try?” He strolled around the table, his attention locked on my face. “You should put that drink down.”

  “Why?” I took a sip from the straw.

  As soon as he was in reach, he took the glass from me and set it on the pool rack hanging on the wall next to me.

  “I don’t want you to spill it again.”

  I stared up at him, my pulse picking up at the heat in his gaze. Batting my lashes, I trailed a finger down his bumpy shirt. “How was your day, Mr. Nyce?”

  “I don’t want to talk about my day right now.”

  “Did my kids behave this afternoon?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about your kids, either.”

  I licked my lips on purpose, luring him in. “What do you want to talk about then?”

  “I don’t want to talk, period.” His mouth came down on mine fast and hard, surprising me into submission.

  I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of his body heating mine through my sweater. He tasted sweet and lemony, a hint of liquor on his breath, blowing my libido clear out of the water. Damn, I’d missed this carnal side of him lately. I buried my fingers in his hair and held his mouth to mine as I took over and kissed him back, pressing my soft curves into his hard edges.

  He groaned and planted his palms on the wall on each side of my head, imprisoning me within his arms. He pulled back enough to trail his mouth along my jawline, concentrating on the sensitive skin below my ear.

  “In case you’re not getting my message,” he said against my neck, “I like this outfit.” He grazed his knuckles down my side, ending at where my skirt flared down over my thighs. “I really like it.”

  “I was hoping you would.”

  “It makes me want to explore.” His hand trailed back up along my ribcage, his fingers tickling over my curves. “And touch.”

  “I know a place we could go,” I said, leaning my head back against the wall as his lips traveled down my neck and along my collarbone.

  “Your skin smells like coconuts.” His fingers moved to the buttons on the front of my sweater, toying with the top one. He ogled my cleavage, making no attempt to play coy.

  I took a deep breath, arching slightly. Looking even semi-perky wasn’t so easy after popping out two kids.

  “Your chest sparkles,” he said, undoing the top button and pulling back the fabric enough to peek down my top. “All of the way down apparently.”

  That was the glitter infused in my new lotion. I slid my hands along his shoulders, craving the feel of his bare skin against mine. “Not just my chest. Want to see where else I sparkle?”

  “I don’t want to just see, Boots.” He outlined the neckline of my sweater with his fingers. Goosebumps rippled in their wake. “How was your day?”

  Now he wanted to exchange pleasantries? I was having trouble controlling my tongue enough to speak in between panting and drooling, let alone make sense. “I’ve had better.”

  He leaned his shoulder against the wall next to me, his broad shoulders completely shielding me from the view of the other bar patrons, giving us some privacy.

  “Did Prudence behave herself?” he asked and unbuttoned a second button so that the tiny satin pink bow in the center of my black lace bra showed.

  I s
tared down at his fingers as they tickled along the top edge of my bra. “Not so much.”

  “But she did actually show up to meet Coop?” He popped the third button, his dark gaze holding mine for a breath, his fingers lingering around the front of my black lace cup, making my body pulse from head to toe and every hill and dale in between.

  Holy hot flash! I was burning up from his little game of public foreplay. I hoped there weren’t any cameras in the ceiling back here. This part of the bar was dark in the shadows beyond the pool table lights, but not that dark.

  “She definitely stopped by and left her mark,” I told him.

  Unfortunately that mark was on me, but I didn’t care so much about that at the moment. I was more interested in the fourth button that Doc had undone and what he was going to do next now that my right breast was catching plenty of air. The lace covering it was little more than a gauzy veil.

  “Is that why we’re meeting Coop here?” he asked, his focus centered well below my chin. His thumb strummed over me, making me moan. My knees were getting loosey-goosey, threatening to give and leave me as nothing more than a steamy throbbing mess of hair and boots at Doc’s feet.

  “We need your help.”

  He popped the penultimate button. My sweater gaped, both sides of my bra now visible. He reached up and took my drink down from the pool cue rack, offering me a sip. I took it, my throat a desert from the panting brought on by his teasing.

  “My help with what?” He took my drink and rubbed the cold, dew covered glass over the front of my bra. A jolt of pleasure spiraled deep into my core. The chilly dampness should have cooled the fire burning through me, but it only cranked the heat higher. Spontaneous combustion was a finger stroke away.

  I tried to gulp but my mouth had dried up.

  “You need my help with what, vixen?” he asked again.

  What were we talking about? Oh, yeah. “Your help with how Prudence could manipulate two puppets at once.”

  “Let me think about that.” He leaned down and blew on the damp lace. I tipped my head back, my eyes closing at the heady sensation his breath sparked. Stars dotted the back of my lids.

  His hand slid down to my waist. He leaned into me once more as his mouth came down on mine. His lips were soft this time, tenderly turning me inside out, upside down, and every which way.

  I kept my eyes closed, letting my other senses rule. The scent of his cologne made me quiver. His muscles tensed under my palms as I stroked and gripped, encouraging me to grow bolder, more aggressive. His breath came fast and hard, matching mine.

  “Doc,” I whispered when we pulled apart, my lids still lowered. “What are we doing here?”

  “Playing with fire.”

  “Let’s go somewhere private.”

  “We can’t.” His hand brushed along the underside of my bra.

  “Why not?”

  His knuckles bumped me again. My eyelids fluttered open. I frowned down at the sight of his fingers buttoning up my sweater.

  “Because Coop’s here.”

  A glass of ice water dumped down my underwear would have been less jarring. I knocked Doc’s hands aside, buttoning up the last three buttons while peeking over his shoulder to search the room. “Where?”

  “He’s at the bar.”

  Sure enough, there he was ordering a drink. Cooper had traded his dress pants and tie for a black long sleeve T-shirt and jeans. His spine was as stiff as ever, though.

  I smoothed my sweater down over my chest, frowning at my headlights stuck on bright and clearly visible through the fabric.

  Doc sucked a breath through his teeth, his gaze on my headlights, too. “Damn, that’s sexy. I’m going to need a cold shower tonight.”

  “Or you could join me in my bed.”

  His eyes lifted to mine. “Have you thought about what I said?”

  Thought? More like obsessed about it in between worrying about Caly, Wilda, Prudence, and more. “I’ve thought about the things I’d like to do to you with my mouth, does that count?”

  A mixture of pleasure and pain passed over his face.

  “Break it up, you two,” Cooper’s voice interrupted us before Doc could answer. “Enough of this PDA shit.”

  Doc dropped one last kiss on my lips and then turned to face the detective. “Your timing sucks as usual, Coop. I hear you had some fun with Prudence today.”

  Cooper looked at me, his gaze dropping to my leg for a moment. “More like Prudence had fun with me.” He pointed his glass of amber-colored liquid at me. “You missed a button.”

  I glanced down. Sure enough, the third one down was buttoned through the second’s slot. Damn his detective eyes.

  “Oops.” Doc stepped between us, blocking me from Cooper’s view. “I get all fingers and thumbs when Violet’s around.” I could hear the laughter in Doc’s voice as I fixed my sweater.

  My skin warmed again, but only on my cheeks and neck this time. It was one thing to play the sultry sex kitten when Doc and I were the only two back here. But getting busted screwing around with my boyfriend made it tougher for me to match Cooper nip for nip when it came to our usual teeth-filled banter.

  “Aren’t you afraid Parker will bite your fingers off?”

  Speaking of teeth, I leaned around Doc and flashed mine at Cooper in a lip-curled snarl.

  “Let’s get a booth,” Doc said, catching my hand and leading the way through the tables. With so few patrons, it wasn’t hard to find a corner of privacy. I slid into the booth first. Doc followed, his right shoulder bumping my left as we settled into the seat.

  Cooper finished his drink and ordered another from a passing waitress before he took the bench seat across from us.

  “All right, fill me in on your visit with Prudence.” Doc’s right hand slid under the table, locking onto my lower thigh.

  I jerked in pain, bumping the table hard enough to rattle the salt shakers and tip over a plastic menu holder.

  He drew his hand back, his forehead creased. “Did I hurt you?”

  “I sort of have a bruise there.”

  Cooper swore under his breath.

  Doc crooked his head to the side. “That was more than a sort-of-bruise reaction. What happened at the Carhart house?”

  Cooper and I exchanged frowns.

  “That’s what we need to talk to you about,” I said.

  Doc scrutinized our shared frowns. “Did Prudence do something to hurt you?”

  “It wasn’t Prudence.” Cooper beat me to the punch. “I’m the one who hurt her.”

  “You did not hurt me,” my pride snapped back.

  “Bullshit, Parker. Nyce nearly sent you through the roof a moment ago.”

  “That bruise was not your doing.”

  “It was my hand on your leg doing the squeezing, remember?”

  “His hand was on your leg?” One of Doc’s eyebrows crept up his forehead. “You two had better be careful or you might accidentally start being nice to each other. Worse yet,” he draped his arm along the booth seat behind me, “you may actually become friends.”

  Cooper snorted. “Not gonna happen. I’m allergic to Parker. It’s probably all of that crazy hair.”

  I flipped him off. “It was Prudence,” I explained to Doc. “She manipulated Cooper, using him as a puppet.”

  “Did she speak through him?” Doc’s hand warmed my shoulder, his fingers stroking, calming me.

  “This was different. She spoke through Zelda.” I went on to tell him what had happened. However, when it came to the part about my having to be the one hunting down Wanda’s killer, I kind of skipped over that—as in not mentioning it at all.

  Judging from the dark clouds hanging over Cooper’s brow during my playback, I doubted he’d be receptive to my butting in on his case. At least not until he had a few more drinks in him. As in a few more than the single glass the waitress brought him while I finished my tale.

  Doc’s fingers stilled. “I knew Prudence was strong, but I had no idea she was capabl
e of this.”

  “You should feel how hard she can squeeze,” I grumbled.

  “How can a ghost be strong?” Cooper asked. “They’re wispy and … what’s the word? Ectoplasmic.”

  Grinning, Doc said, “A ghost’s strength is not a physical ability, like weight lifting—something we both know you suck at compared to me.”

  Cooper chuckled. “Fuck you, Nyce.”

  Doc’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “It’s more a combination of mental energy and its receptivity to the medium in the room.”

  “But you’re the medium, and you weren’t there.”

  “No, but Violet was.”

  “What do I have to do with Prudence?”

  “I have a theory about you two,” he told me, “but first, Coop, do you remember anything during that period of altered state?”

  Cooper stirred the ice in his glass. “I remember feeling dizzy and queasy, needing to sit down before I fell down. Parker led me to the couch and then everything sort of faded to black.” He looked up from his drink, his gray eyes hooded. “Like I was stuck in a dream. I was fighting against something that had me pinned down. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get up. Then it was over and I was free, sitting on the couch next to Parker. I didn’t realize my hand was on her leg until she pointed it out.”

  “Which is why I keep saying it wasn’t you who hurt me,” I told him.

  “So you have no memory of seeing anything during your altered state?” Doc pressed Cooper. “Any images of other people or of Prudence herself? Any voices or smells?”

  Cooper shook his head. “The whole thing was a long, dark struggle.” He scowled down at his glass. “I don’t remember ever feeling so weak. So defenseless.” His wrinkled upper lip mirrored his apparent self-disgust.

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” Doc said. “Prudence is one of the strongest ghosts I’ve ever come across. Most don’t even have the ability to make you aware they’re standing right next to you.”

  “Or inside of you,” I muttered, thinking of the dead prostitute in the stairwell of The Old Prospector Hotel. She’d manifested in my shoes, using my face as a mask without my knowing it.

  “How is it possible for a ghost to take over someone like that?” Cooper asked.