by Ann Charles
“For what?” I watched as she fished out two more ice cubes, tossing them aside as well. What was her issue with ice? “The mythical hunter after my hide or der Nachzehrer?”
She stopped mid-fish. “What? What did you say?”
Ah-ha. Something she didn’t know. How was it she knew about Slagton but not the flesh-eating ghouls? Was it because it was too soon for her ghost radar to detect them?
“Der Nachzehrer.” I mumbled more this time, since I wasn’t sure I was pronouncing the name correctly.
“Has it consumed the flesh of another?” At my nod, she pulled her hand from the glass, drying it on Rosy’s napkin. “How many are there now?”
“Two, maybe more.”
“This is not good. They are exceptional at subterfuge.”
“Are they tougher to catch than a lidérc?”
“Why would you bother to catch a lidérc? You need to execute it.”
“I sort of made a deal with a devil.” Two deals, actually.
She threw down the napkin. “Must you complicate what should be a simple task? In our line of work, it is slay or be slain. There is no catching, not with these fiends. One misstep and they will slice your throat.”
I glanced down at Zelda’s throat, grimacing. Was that what had happened to Prudence? She made a mistake and had her throat sliced open because of it? While in her ghostly form, she still wore the dress she was murdered in, the blood staining the high collar.
“I didn’t intend to complicate things. Not everything is black and white in my world, Prudence. Sometimes I have to work in the gray.”
“With whom did you make a deal?”
I took a sip of iced tea, looking down at my half-eaten salad. “I’d rather not tell you.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’ll just insult me again.”
She leaned over the table. “Who?”
“Someone non-human.”
She reached for me, but I dodged her hand. “Tell me!”
“Stop trying to hurt me and I will.”
Folding her hands together, she lowered them into her lap. “Who?”
“He currently goes by the name of Dominick Masterson.”
She sat back, inhaling her gasp. “That coxcomb? You Dummkopf!”
“See, I knew you’d insult me again.”
“Do you understand the ramifications of dealing with a guardian?”
Obviously not, because … “What’s a guardian?”
“They take pride in their ability to appear gallant when they are truly knaves, a peccant larcener of souls.”
Peccant? I was going to need to look that word up if it meant something other than what Addy’s chicken did to my coat buttons.
“What is this deal you made?” she asked.
“Information on who killed the Timekeeper in exchange for catching his lidérc.”
“But you said that you slew the Timekeeper.”
“I did, but this was before I knew it was me.”
Zelda’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before she spoke, as though Prudence was oiling her jaw hinge. “How could you not know it was you?”
I chomped on another fry. “There was a time loop. I had to complete the second loop to see the whole replay of events.”
“You are like a child with a delicate flower, crushing and tearing it apart before you realize what you have in your hands.”
I pointed the last half of my French fry at her. “Oddly enough, your words aren’t helping.” I shoved the rest of the fry in my mouth, pushing aside the plate. “If you insult me one more time, we’re done talking.”
“I will tell you when we are finished conversing.”
“Fine, insult away, but answer me this—how do I catch a lidérc alive?” With Aunt Zoe’s future on the line, I needed to figure this out fast.
She sat quietly for several moments, long enough for me to finish my iced tea.
“You need to devise a trap.”
“And use a human as bait,” I finished for her.
She sighed at what was apparently a stupid answer. “No.”
“Why not? They attach to human hosts.”
“Had you been locked in a cage for over a century, what would tempt you more? An innocent bystander or the one who jailed you?”
“The jailer.”
“Precisely. You want to lure the lidérc? Offer up the one who sealed it away in the dark long ago.”
I let that settle in my thoughts before moving on to my next question. “How do I catch one of those mutant griffins in Slagton?”
“Mutant what?”
“Chimeras,” I said, using Dominick’s word to see if that worked better for her.
“Must I do everything for you?” Zelda’s mouth moved several times with no words following. Then Prudence appeared to regroup. “I am tired now. I must rest.” She reached across and clasped my wrist, squeezing hard enough to make me squirm. “Remember, do not let them see your strengths. Distract them with your weaknesses.”
“But what about …” I trailed off when Zelda’s head drooped forward. Her grip on my wrist slackened. “Prudence?”
Zelda lifted her head, looking around. “Why is it so dark in here?”
“You’re wearing sunglasses,” Rosy said.
I looked over at the camerawoman, who was staring at Zelda like she’d seen her somewhere before but couldn’t place her.
“Hi, Violet,” Zelda said, lifting her sunglasses. Her beautiful green eyes stared back at me. “Did you have a chance to speak with Prudence?”
I nodded. “I’m sorry you had to come down here on my account.” Actually, it was on Prudence’s account.
“Oh, it’s no problem.” She waved me off. “Prudence is always gentle with me. In fact, when I come back from my little Prudy naps, as I like to call them, I feel extra energized. I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight.” She smiled, her usual bright and sunny self again. “Maybe I’ll make a batch of Christmas cookies for Zeke. He’ll be pulling in tomorrow afternoon.” She turned to Rosy and held out her hand. “I’m Zelda, by the way. What’s your name?”
“Rosy.” She shook Zelda’s hand. “I work with Violet.”
“So you live around here?”
“Yeah.” Rosy pulled her hand free, frowning down at her plate. “Did I spill my water?” She lifted her burger. The bottom bun fell apart in her hand, waterlogged from Prudence’s ice fishing.
“We should have coffee together sometime,” Zelda said to her and then slid out of the booth. “If you two will excuse me, I need to run to the post office and mail some last-minute Christmas gifts.” She slid on her gloves. “Stop by sometime, Violet. Prudence is always much happier after your visits.”
Happ-ier? No way. That would require the haughty ghost to actually be happy first.
Zelda bebopped toward the door, waving at the bartender on her way out.
I turned back to Rosy. “Are you okay?”
“I think so.” She rubbed her forehead. “What in the hell happened? Did I pass out?”
I wasn’t sure where to start, but I was relatively certain that leading with her being temporarily possessed by a ghost was not the way to go.
“Uhhhh, what do you remember?”
“Your friend standing over our table. Then it all went dark.”
I debated how much to spill, not wanting to go into the long version of Prudence’s ghost story. “Zelda has an entity attached to her. It tends to draw energy from others in the vicinity, leaving them feeling like they’ve awoken from a deep sleep.”
“A parasitic ghost?”
Prudence would be offended by that description, I had no doubt. That made me smile. “For lack of a better word.”
Rosy touched her fries. “My food is cold. How long was I out?”
“A little while. How about I order you a fresh plate of food. We still have another half hour before I need to return to work.”
Shaking her head, she pushed her plate away. “I
don’t really feel like eating anymore.”
Another side effect of temporary possession, I imagined. Cooper hadn’t mentioned feeling sick to his stomach afterward, but he’d rejected going to lunch with his uncle and me.
She sniffed. “I keep smelling blood.” She lifted her burger, sniffing it, and then dropped it. “It’s weird. Can you smell it?”
I shook my head.
“When I blacked out, it was really strong, like I was lying in a pool of it.” Her eyes widened. “Wait!”
“What?”
“I remember something else from the darkness. I was gagging.”
I cringed. I’d had enough gagging for a month after my adventures with Addy last night. “On what?”
“Blood, I think.” She touched her neck. “Someone had slit my throat, and I was drowning in my own blood.”
Prudence.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosy returned to the office long enough to grab her camera case. On her way out, she told Jerry she would be back tomorrow to film Ben and Ray. She claimed to be feeling under the weather, but I knew it was from being under Prudence’s thumb.
I walked her out, apologizing for our lunch interloper.
“It’s okay, Violet. It wasn’t your doing.” She placed her case in the back seat of her Subaru.
“I’ll bring you a coffee in the morning.” I knew her favorite.
Her smile was a shadow of its usual self. “It’s a deal.” She slid in behind the steering wheel, frowning up at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” I cringed in anticipation of a Prudence question.
“Why did my house’s previous owner install a lock on the inside of the walk-in closet?”
Whew! That was an easy one. “He’s a cop.”
“A safe room. That makes sense.” She started to ask something else and then stopped. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“You will.” I stepped back, watching her drive out of the lot.
I’d been back at my desk for twenty minutes when Cooper walked in the front door in plain clothes, no firearm or radio. At least not as far as I could tell. I didn’t doubt for a minute that he carried concealed 24/7.
He didn’t dilly dally with conventional greetings to my coworkers, barging straight at my desk. “Parker, I need you to show me a house.”
I stared up at him. His eyes were still red rimmed, tired around the edges. What was with this sudden need to see a place? Last time I’d asked him about going house hunting, he’d told me that he wanted to wait until after the holidays were over and his work schedule returned to normal.
Aware that my boss was sitting two desks away, I pasted on a cheery smile. “How about we go tomorrow, Detective Cooper?” I was dragging ass myself and didn’t feel like walking through a house while he listed everything that was wrong with it.
“Tomorrow is no good,” he said without hesitation. “I’d like to go right now.”
What in Sam Hill? Had Coop been taking lessons from Prudence? Why was he being so pushy about doing this right now? Wasn’t our breakfast date looking at a chewed leg enough of my company for one day? Usually he preferred to take twenty-four hour breaks from me.
“I just returned from lunch.” That sounded feeble as soon as it left my lips, but damn it, a long night filled with a sick kid followed by an early morning at the morgue made me dig in my heels. Not to mention spending my lunch hour getting reamed by a pompous dead woman.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Perfect, then you’re available,” he said. “My truck is out back.”
What truck? He didn’t have a pickup. Maybe he meant one of the Deadwood police vehicles. I turned to Mona, who was watching the two of us closely, especially Cooper. Was she seeing what I was seeing? A pushy detective who wouldn’t take no for an answer?
“Jerry?” I looked at my boss. “How do you feel about me stepping out for the afternoon to show Cooper a house or two?”
I tried to use mental telepathy to make him reject the idea and insist that I stay and go over my “game tape” with him.
He glanced my way, gave me the thumbs-up, and then went back to his computer.
I sucked at thought transference. I’d have better luck knocking Jerry over the head with my war hammer next time.
“Grab your coat, Parker,” Cooper ordered, leaving no room for discussion. “We need to hit the road.”
I bristled, mumbling, “Yes, Detective Bossypants,” as I collected my purse and coat. I followed him out the back door. As soon it was closed, I put my foot down, splashing slush on my suede ankle boots and cashmere leggings, which only made me snarl louder. “What’s the deal, Cooper? I’m not in the fucking mood to drag you around empty houses all afternoon and listen to you bitch and moan about how shitty they are.”
“You need to work on your customer service skills.” He grabbed my elbow and pulled me over to Harvey’s idling pickup. “I’ll tell you what’s the deal when you get your ass inside of Uncle Willis’ pickup.”
I climbed into the back seat. Harvey was waiting for me with his hair slicked back. He smelled ripe with cologne. He must have convinced his lady friend to join him for brunch after I messed up their breakfast date.
“Hey, Sparky.” He gave me a thorough once-over. “Yer eyes look a little buggy.”
“Well, it’s been a buggy kind of day so far.” After Cooper belted himself in behind the wheel and backed out of the parking spot, I said, “What’s going on, Cooper? Why is it so important that we go look at a house together right now?”
“We’re going out to Slagton again,” Harvey answered for his nephew, sporting a gold-toothed smile in the face of my scowl.
“No.” I was not going to add a trip to Hell to my itinerary today. “Take me back to work.”
“You’re going to Slagton with us. It’s not up for discussion,” Cooper said, glaring at me in the rearview mirror.
“Are you kidnapping me, Detective?”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” he replied.
Maybe I was, but I really was not in the mood for whatever Slagton had to offer today. “I’m not dressed for a hunting trip. The snow out there will ruin my suede boots, and I don’t want to get a tear in my cashmere leggings.”
“We’re not hunting today, we’re scouting.” Cooper turned onto Sherman Street. “As for your clothes, Uncle Willis stopped by your house and grabbed something more appropriate for the trip.”
I shot Harvey a wary look. “You picked out my clothes?” That meant he’d gone into my closet, which looked like a tornado had torn through it, leaving a dusting of chicken feathers behind.
“I’ve seen cleaner chicken coops than yer bedroom.”
“My bedroom is clean.” Mostly. I made a point of trying to keep it semi-clean because Doc was sleeping in there with me now and I didn’t want to scare him away with my lousy housekeeping. “My closet is simply a little untidy.”
He snorted. “Yer not shootin’ square. Why on Earth do ya have so many frilly bloomers?”
I gasped. “What were you doing in my underwear drawer?”
“Lookin’ fer yer war hammer.”
“Why would it be in my underwear drawer?”
“Most skirts tend to hide things in with their unmentionables.”
He was right. I did tend to hide things in with my underwear. “Not a war hammer.”
“How was I to know that?”
“And for the record, my underwear is not frilly.” Doc preferred lace and satin in a multitude of colors, the skimpier the better. “And what I wear under my clothes is none of your beeswax, old man.”
Harvey glanced down at my pea coat, chortling. “I reckon we know now why yer stallion gets hot to trot and already a-saddled when yer in heat.”
I leaned forward and tugged on his beard. “Keep it up, you old goat, and I’ll pull you through a knothole and back out again.”
“Hey, that’s my line.”
I held up my fist. “Come and get it, crybaby.”
“ ‘Crybaby’?” Harvey looked at the back of his nephew’s head. “Watch out, Coop. Sparky’s huntin’ trouble with a big gun again.”
“Good,” Cooper said. “I like big guns.”
“Why am I being kidnapped and dragged to Slagton?” I asked, wondering why Cooper had turned into the Presidential district instead of heading out of town toward Strawberry Hill.
“Because I got a call about my missing informant.”
“A call from whom?”
“A concerned citizen of Slagton.”
“Real funny. Who really called?”
Cooper pulled into Doc’s driveway and let the pickup idle. He turned in his seat. “He wouldn’t give me his name.”
Doc’s front door opened. He walked out, dressed in jeans, snow boots, and a thick winter coat. His movements were still stiff from the waist up, so his ribs must still be tender. Rounding the front of the pickup, he climbed into the passenger seat with a small grunt of pain. He clicked on his seatbelt and then lowered the visor, looking at me in the mirror there. “Hey, Killer. I hear you had a hair-raising morning.”
I had to think back to what had happened before my lunch with Prudence. Oh yeah, the chewed-on dead guy. “My morning was relatively tame compared to my lunch.”
Cooper shifted into reverse, backing out of the drive. “What happened at lunch?”
“Prudence took Zelda out for a walk.”
“What in tarnation does that mean?” Harvey asked.
Cooper glanced at me with a wrinkled brow in the rearview mirror. “That doesn’t make any sense, Parker.”
Doc made the effort to turn in his seat so he could look me eye to eye. “Out where?”
“The Golden Sluice.”
“The ol’ gal just moseyed inside The Golden Sluice?” Harvey asked.
“Well, officially Zelda’s body walked up to the table. I believe she drove down to the bar, but somewhere between exiting her car and stepping inside The Golden Sluice, Prudence took over the controls.”
“Were the whites of her eyes showin’ again?”
“She was wearing sunglasses, but after she got to the table, she raised her sunglasses, which I’m pretty sure freaked Rosy out.”
“Rosy who?” Cooper asked.
