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

by Ann Charles

  “That damned chicken always has a leg up on me.”

  “You didn’t miss much, just a lot of swearing and a bit of tire kicking. I watched it while hiding behind a truck across the parking lot. The bastard had to stick his head out the window to drive home. All of that wet snow and sleet couldn’t be good for his car’s leather interior, let alone that expensive suede coat he was wearing.”

  I giggled in spite of the knockdown fight this would undoubtedly inspire between the asshole and me. I drank more rum and Coke. It might be the rum talking, but fuck Rex and his threats. Maybe when I finished using that creepy war hammer on Wanda’s killer, I’d plant the pointy end of it into the hood of his Jaguar. I thought about how he must have looked when he tried to use his newly cut, windshield wiper nubs and my giggle turned into a laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Cooper asked.

  I squeezed my lips together. Natalie and I reached for the wipers at the same time, but Cooper beat us to them. He inspected them. “Did someone cut your wipers off?” he asked Natalie, his detective skills sharp even after almost two glasses of whiskey.

  “Ahhhh.” Natalie licked her lips and then looked at me.

  I glanced left and right, searching for an escape route.

  His gaze dipped to the bolt cutters on the seat next to Natalie and then narrowed. “What’s going on here?”

  “Uhh …” my rum and Coke brain scrambled. We needed something to distract the detective. I looked across at Natalie with her damp hair, flushed cheeks, and wet lips. “Nat needs someone to teach her how to play pool.”

  A little flirting with Cooper during pool could work in our favor.

  He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Do you really think you can fool me so easily, Parker? Besides, I know Natalie is a pool shark. She and I have played together before.”

  Shit, that was right. It was that night years ago that Natalie had told me about. What had started out with a shared drink had moved onto shared kisses. Then Cooper had rejected her invitation to go somewhere else, telling her he didn’t mix it up with locals, and walked out. Period. End of attraction … or not.

  “I’ll tell you what, Coop,” Natalie said, setting the bolt cutters on the table next to the wipers. “Let’s make a little wager over a game of nine ball.”

  He watched her as she took off her coat and finger-combed her damp hair, his face set in that hard-core detective mask he so often wore. “I’m listening.”

  “If I win, you pretend you never saw these wipers.” She picked up his glass of whiskey and took a sip. “Damn,” she said with a slight grimace and handed him the glass. “This could use more ice.”

  He took the glass and downed the last of the amber liquid, setting the glass down with a clink. “And if I win?”

  “I’ll confess.”

  “And?”

  “And …” she turned to me for help.

  I had an idea of what else he’d want with his spoils, and nothing I could offer would satisfy.

  “And a kiss,” I tossed out, and then blinked in surprise at what had come from my own loose lips. Damned rum!

  Everyone seemed to have frozen solid except for me. I reached for my drink while three pairs of eyes nailed me to the booth. “It just kind of flew out, you know.” I shrugged and sipped from my glass. “Seemed like a good idea in the heat of the moment.”

  One of Cooper’s eyebrows rose. “A kiss from Natalie, Nyce, or you?”

  “Natalie,” Doc answered for me, grinning at Coop. “I’d try to kiss you myself, but you’d probably shoot me.”

  “There’s no probably about it.”

  Natalie tittered. I did a double-take at the awkward sound coming from her mouth. “Coop isn’t interested in kisses from local girls,” she said. “But I bet he’d take me up on an all-expenses-paid trip to the shooting range.”

  “Sure,” I agreed in between sips of what seemed to be mostly rum at the bottom of my glass. “Especially if you tag along.”

  I glanced up to find both Natalie and Doc giving me what-the-hell looks again. Cooper’s glare, on the other hand, had more of a shut-the-hell-up smack to it.

  Oh, hell. I reined in my big mouth and tried to fix my blunder yet again. “What? Everyone knows that shooting is more fun with friends.” I turned to Doc. “Don’t you think?”

  “I think you should take a break from the rum.” He took my glass from me and set it out of reach.

  Natalie shot me one last questioning glance and then smiled up at Cooper. “What do you say, Coop? How do you feel about getting your butt kicked at pool?”

  “It’ll be like a regular ol’ night at the poker table,” Doc said.

  “Kiss my ass, Nyce.”

  “I’d sooner take that bullet you mentioned a moment ago.”

  “Okay, Beals. I’ll take you up on that bet.” Cooper thumbed in the direction of the pool table. “Lead the way.”

  Natalie nudged her head at me to follow and then slid out of her seat.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Doc looked at me. “I thought you weren’t going to tell her that Coop’s interested.”

  “My brain says I’m not, but my lips seem to have gone rogue.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He turned my chin his way and kissed me, leaving me licking my lips for more when he pulled away. “They do feel a bit more rascally. You think you can control them over by the pool table?”

  “I’ll try, but you may have to kiss me some more if they turn into scallywags again.”

  “Can do.” He stood and held his hand out for me. “But there are risks involved.”

  I stood, straightening my skirt and sweater. “What risks?”

  Doc’s hand slid down over my backside. “I might take advantage of you in your rummy state, especially with that cherry-flavored lip gloss you’re wearing tonight.”

  “I double dare you to try.”

  Natalie was racking up the balls while Cooper picked out a cue stick when we joined them. Doc settled into a chair at one of the tall tables made for two nearby. I opted to use him as a leaning post instead of sitting in the other chair, resting back against his chest, my hands warming his thighs. If Natalie was playing up to snuff tonight, this beating shouldn’t take long.

  The waitress stopped by with another round of drinks, including a margarita on the rocks for Natalie. Guitar riffs started playing from the speakers in the corners of the room as Bad Company’s Feel Like Makin’ Love cranked up.

  Uh oh. This song wasn’t going to help cool things down for Cooper—or me for that matter. I glanced toward the front of the bar where a twenty-something in a pair of skintight jeans and black cowboy boots was swaying her hips in front of the jukebox.

  “Shall we flip to see who gets to break?” Natalie asked, grabbing a pool stick from the rack.

  Cooper shook his head. “Ladies first.”

  “What a gentleman.” She stretched her shoulders back, rolling her neck, loosening up. Her smile was an equal mix of cockiness and flirting. “That’s your first mistake.”

  “Not my first.” He took a sip of his whiskey. His eyes were locked on Natalie as she bent over and slid the stick back and forth between her fingers a few times. “And not my last.”

  “Poor sucker is going down in flames,” Doc said in my ear.

  “In more ways than one,” I replied after Natalie’s break knocked the one ball and three ball into different corner pockets.

  She strolled over next to Cooper, standing shoulder to shoulder with him as they both looked over the table. “What do you think?” she asked. “Should I take the safe shot and sink the two ball in the side pocket or try the riskier one-cushion bank shot into the corner?”

  “Risky,” he answered without looking at her. “Danger is more exciting.”

  “You would know, Coop.” She stepped forward and bent over, taking aim. “Two ball in the corner pocket.”

  “Watch this,” I told Doc.

  Natalie could sink this shot with her eyes closed
. In fact, I’d seen her do that once in a pool game against a tattoo-covered biker down in Sturgis. An image of Jeff’s bare chested, tattooed girlfriend flashed in my mind out of the blue, making me grimace and shake it and her nipple rings out of my thoughts. What was my brain’s preoccupation with that tattooed babe?

  The ball bounced once and rolled straight into the corner pocket like the table was tipped in that direction.

  Natalie grabbed the chalk and moved back to where Cooper still stood stiff-legged, watching. “I pocketed the three ball when I broke. That leaves the four ball.” She looked over at me. “Where should I put it, Vi?”

  “Let me think.” I touched my cheek, pretending to ponder. “I’m leaning toward a location on Detective Cooper where the sun never shines.”

  Doc swallowed his tea wrong and coughed into his hand.

  Cooper slowly turned my way, his gunslinger squint in place. “Next time you’re in jail, Parker, plan on spending the night before I call your boyfriend to come to your rescue.”

  I held up my hands, trying to maintain a straight face. “Kidding, Cooper.” A giggle bubbled up my throat, ruining my honest-Abe expression. “Nat, put the four ball in the corner pocket after a two-cushion bounce.”

  As Natalie sized up the shot, Bad Company’s lusty riffs wrapped up. She moved around the table, lining up for the shot. “Four ball in the corner.” She nudged her head toward the intended pocket.

  The sound of cymbals came from the speakers, followed by a bass guitar and drums buildup.

  Oh, shit.

  I winced as the Divinyls’ hot and sexy song, I Touch Myself, throbbed to life. What was next? The long and dirty version of Strokin’ by Clarence Carter?

  After shooting a scowl at the woman now dancing alone in front of the jukebox, I turned back to the sparks flying at the pool table.

  Natalie closed one eye, her focus unwavering, and hit the cue ball. It smacked the four ball, which banked twice off the side cushions before sinking into the corner pocket as called.

  “Damn, she’s good,” Doc said.

  “Nat and her cousins have been playing pool since they were kids. The Morgans had a pool table in their basement.”

  Returning to Cooper’s side with her drink in hand, Natalie swayed to the sultry song. “Hold this, will you?” She handed him her drink, singing along with the Divinyls about loving herself as she rubbed the chalk over the end of the pool tip.

  Cooper watched her chalk up with the concentration of a brain surgeon. His chest rose and fell visibly.

  “She’s playing dirty,” Doc whispered.

  I shook my head. “Her focus is on the table. She’s in the zone, sizing things up.” I’d seen Natalie flirt with guys more times than I could count, and this was definitely not one of those instances. “Her mind is on winning the game, not sex.”

  She exchanged the chalk for her drink, studying the table as she kept swaying and singing. I danced along with her while sipping on my fresh rum and Coke.

  Doc palmed my hips, lightly holding onto me as I moved to the music. “How can she not know what she’s doing to him?”

  “It’s this damned song. It makes your hips move on their own.” I spun around and sang the chorus to him about not wanting anybody else.

  He watched me as I mimicked Chrissy Amphlett’s sexy moves from the video, his gaze molten.

  I danced closer, rubbing over his inner thighs as I swayed “See what I mean?”

  “No, show me more.” He reached out and popped the top button of my sweater. “Let me help you with this touching business.”

  I knocked his hand away, waving my index finger in front of his face. Returning my attention to the pool table scene, I backed up into Doc, still swaying against him.

  He grasped my hips, pulling me back even closer. “Vixen,” he said in my ear and pushed my hair aside, nuzzling my neck. Electricity crackled along my shoulder blade.

  At the pool table, Natalie danced over to her next shot while Cooper scrubbed his hand down his face. Sweat glistened on his forehead.

  “Five ball in the side pocket,” she sang.

  “Where’s the challenge in that, Beals?” Cooper’s voice was huskier than usual.

  “Side pockets are always a challenge for me, Detective,” she said, bending down to take the shot. Her v-neck shirt dipped, allowing a peek of cleavage as she focused on the ball.

  Cooper flinched, looking away sharply.

  The balls cracked together, the five ball nosediving into the side pocket.

  She danced back over to Cooper, doing a spin on the way, singing along with the Divinyls as the song wrapped up.

  “Whew,” she said with a brash smile. “I’m beginning to feel like I’m playing with myself here, Coop.”

  He stared down at her. The heat blasting from his gaze would’ve turned Natalie to ashes in a flash if she hadn’t been busy scrutinizing the layout on the pool table. “I’ll join the game as soon as you give me the green light.”

  Doc and I exchanged knowing grins. “She really doesn’t see the way he’s watching her?” he whispered.

  I leaned back and said in his ear, “He rejected her and she’s accepted his rule about local girls. Aside from those two reasons, she’s really taking her sabbatical seriously.” I grazed my lips along his cheek. “Besides, you didn’t see the way I used to watch you either.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I did.”

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Remember that day at the Rec Center pool when we played Marco Polo with Addy and Kelly?”

  I nodded. “You were wearing dark blue swim trunks and a lot of bare, wet skin.”

  “You kept sending me invitations with your eyes.”

  “I did not.”

  “You definitely did, Boots.” He toyed with a curl. “I was having trouble not taking you up on them at the time, especially with you in a swimsuit.”

  My cheeks warmed. I must have come across as a desperate, horny single mom. “It’d been a while for me. I was out of practice.” I lifted my drink to my lips.

  He ran his lips along the shell of my ear, rattling my poise. “The way the water trickled down your smooth skin haunted me all night long.”

  The Divinyls self-touching finally came to an end. It was a good thing, because all of that singing about touching on top of the rum and Doc’s words was not helping to cool my core temperature. Neither was the feel of his lips grazing the side of my neck.

  I took a sip of my drink only to nearly choke when the erotic guitar strums of Darling Nikki reverberated from the speakers.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cooper muttered, scowling at the woman now dirty dancing with a cowboy in front of the jukebox. I half expected him to pull out his gun and fill the jukebox full of bullet holes.

  “Not a fan of Prince?” Natalie asked, moving her hips to the suggestive beat.

  “Where are you going to plant the damned six ball?” he said between clenched teeth, sounding remarkably like Dirty Harry.

  Natalie glanced his way, examining his granite expression. “You know, Coop, a little more of Prince’s version of ‘grinding’ in your life might mellow you out.”

  One blond eyebrow crept up. “Are you offering, Beals?”

  She laughed. “You’re full of it tonight.” She punched him in the shoulder, kidding around with him like she often did my brother, Quint. Her focus returned to the game. “How about you pick this shot?”

  “Far corner pocket.”

  “That’s too easy.” She moved over to the table and sank the ball without effort. Turning, she leaned back against the table, half-sitting on the edge.

  Cooper checked his watch as Prince went on about Darling Nikki’s expertise in the bedroom.

  “You got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asked.

  “Nope.” He took a swig of his whiskey. “Just getting tired of watching instead of joining in.”

  Natalie raised her brows. “Tired, huh? Okay.” She turned a
nd hit the cue ball so it banked around the table but didn’t knock any balls into the pockets. She waved her hand over the table. “Your turn, Detective.”

  “I don’t want a pity shot.”

  “No pity,” she said over the sound of Prince’s grinding words. “Playing alone isn’t much fun.”

  “I agree.” He leaned down next to her to take his shot. “Seven ball in the corner pocket.” His arm brushed her hip.

  “Did you see that?” I said in Doc’s ear. “Ten bucks says he did that on purpose.”

  “Of course he did that on purpose. Don’t you remember how many times I brushed against you?”

  Cooper sank the seven ball and stood slowly, his face inches from Natalie’s when she looked up from watching the ball drop into the pocket. Her gaze widened a fraction at how close he was, her eyes dipping to his mouth.

  “That was an easy one,” she said, her voice sounding breathy. Then she seemed to blink out of her temporary stupor. “You’d better work harder to impress me with the eight ball.”

  Cheap Trick cranked up I Want You to Want Me, picking up the beat.

  “Easy, huh?” Cooper said, stepping back. “How about a two-cushion bank shot?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “You sure you can handle two?”

  “Watch me.”

  We all did as he lined up his shot, aiming for the side pocket. He struck the cue ball. It bounced twice off the bumpers and then struck the eight ball, which rolled slowly toward the side pocket, almost stopping. I held my breath as it reached a tipping point, cheering as it fell into the pocket. Then I remembered that I didn’t want Cooper to win because Natalie would have to come clean about the windshield wipers.

  “Ha!” Natalie clapped. She seemed to have forgotten she was playing to win, too. “What are you going to do for the last one?”

  He leaned over the table. “Nine ball in the side pocket,” he said and sank it without a big production, winning the game.

  “Well, hell.” Natalie hopped off the edge of the table. “Looks like you won, Coop.”

  She’d given him that win and we all knew it. But why?

  Cooper walked over and took her pool stick from her, his hand brushing hers.

  “See?” Doc said. “Classic.”