Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  Her free hand shot out and seized mine, bending it backward hard and fast. I cried out and dropped to my knees, pain shooting up my arm.

  “Do not attempt to free this rascal until I am through exposing his secrets, Scharfrichter.” She pressed closer to Cornelius, her lips pulled back in a fierce sneer.

  “Okay! Okay!” I hollered, still on my knees. “Just don’t hurt him. He’s a friend of mine.”

  “A competent Executioner has no need for colleagues. We are bred to annihilate unaided.”

  I never claimed to be competent. Heck, there were many days that I relied on my Magic 8 ball to see me through until sundown and tequila to smooth over my nights.

  I tried to extricate my hand from her grip. “And he helps me in the dark realm.”

  The whites of her eyes turned my way. “What do you know of the dark realm?” Her question was overflowing with contempt.

  “If you let Cornelius live, I’ll tell you.”

  “I’m not going to slay him, you fool.” She pulled on his ear, dragging him down to her level. “I only want to take a peek at what he’s concealing.”

  “Violet,” Cornelius rasped. “Tell her I’m not … concealing anything.”

  “Prudence, he’s not—”

  She shushed me.

  “Would you at least—”

  She shushed me again, tightening her grip on my hand. Then she leaned close to him and licked along the curve of his outer ear.

  Cornelius squeezed his eyes closed. “Violet, don’t let her … eat my ear.”

  Prudence sucked air between her teeth. “But ears are so crunchy.”

  I scowled up at her. “Prudence, would you stop messing around and do your little parlor trick so we can be done with this? You’re being extremely rude to my friend, who came along to help you.” I was stretching the truth a bit there about Cornelius’s intentions, but this territorial display was getting old. “And let go of my damned hand.”

  “I do not take orders from the likes of you,” she said, but she let go of me just the same. “Now, let’s see what you’ve secreted away between your tasty ears.” She placed both hands over Cornelius’s ears, raised her chin, and closed her eyes.

  Cornelius shuddered for a moment, and then his eyes rolled upward, the whites shining back at me.

  “Prudence,” I said, my voice loud in the hushed foyer. “That’s enough.”

  Neither of them moved.

  “Hey!” I poked her shoulder. “Let go of him.”

  Zelda’s body began to tremble.

  What the hell? This was a new version of an old trick. Was Prudence switching bodies right before my eyes?

  I reached over and tried the light switch next to the door again. The overhead chandelier and wall sconces lit up the scene, the sight of which was even more chilling in the light.

  “Stop it, Prudence.” I tried to pull Zelda’s body away from Cornelius, but it was like they were glued together.

  Zelda began to cough and gasp, sounding as if she were choking.

  My pulse rocketed. Years of being on alert for my children choking on small toys or gobs of pizza cheese propelled me into action. I grabbed Zelda by the hips and tried to haul her backward, but she wouldn’t budge.

  “Damn it, Prudence!” I slid my arm around Zelda’s waist and put my weight into pulling. “Let … him …”

  Suddenly, Zelda broke free.

  Like a pair of conga dancers in reverse, we stumbled backward together and tripped over each other’s feet, crashing into the wall and tumbling to the floor. Zelda fell on top of me, her elbow ramming into my cheek near my eye.

  Pain shot through the right side of my head. “Ouch!”

  I pushed Zelda off of me and looked up at the ceiling while lightly tapping the area around my right eye. My cheekbone throbbed like a son of a bitch and my right hip ached from using it as a landing pad.

  The sound of groaning filled the foyer.

  Oh wait, that was me.

  “Violet?” Cornelius leaned over me, his blue irises facing front again. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “What am I doing?” I scrambled to my feet. “I was trying to pull Prudence off of you, that’s what.” I reached up and palmed his face, turning his head one way and then the other while searching for any leftover effects of Prudence’s possession. “Are you okay?”

  “Prudence says the Collector is fine,” Zelda said from where she sat slouched against the wall—and this time it was actually Zelda’s normal voice.

  The what?

  “You’re back,” I said, looking down at her bowed head. Her auburn hair shielded most of her face. I was afraid to touch her, though, not trusting Prudence. She might take control of Zelda once more and bend my hand backward again.

  She nodded, pointing at the dark kitchen entryway. “But Prudence is still here with us.”

  “Why isn’t she doing the talking anymore?” And pulling the puppet strings?

  Zelda raised her head and stared toward the kitchen for a moment. “Prudence says the Collector sapped her energy.”

  There was that word again. “What does she mean by ‘the Collector’?”

  Zelda repeated my question to the kitchen. After a few seconds, she looked at me. “Prudence says to tell you that your ability to hear is as lacking as your fighting skills.”

  “Fuck her.”

  “She doesn’t approve of your vulgarity or your grumbletonian temperament—those are her words, not mine.” Zelda’s forehead creased. Her eyes widened with concern. “Violet, what happened to your face?”

  I touched my throbbing cheek below my eye. It felt swollen and hot. “Prudence happened.”

  Cornelius began to whistle “Old MacDonald Had a Farm” while settling his Cossack hat back on his head with the help of the hallway mirror. One would never guess he’d been crushed against the door a short time ago by a possessed woman who’d licked his ear.

  “Prudence, what did you do to Cornelius?”

  Zelda pushed slowly to her feet. “She says she merely took a closer look at your friend.” Her petite form wavered a little. She held onto the wall for support. “Oh my, what happened while I was out? I had such an unusual, horrible dream.”

  “Is that normal when Prudence takes over?”

  “Not at all. She always leaves me feeling full of warmth and energy. Well, until today.”

  Cornelius did a little jig in front of the mirror and tittered. “Violet, let’s go dancing.”

  I gaped at him. “Did you just titter?”

  “Do you know how to tango?” He did a spin on the foyer rug. “I haven’t bitten on a rose stem in ages, but I’m sure the steps will come back to me once we hit the dance floor.”

  I looked back at the kitchen entryway. “You broke my friend, Prudence.”

  “She says you are in error.” Zelda rubbed her elbow—the one that had connected with my face. “On the contrary, he nearly broke her.”

  How could that be? She was the one who was manipulating him and Zelda.

  “Prudence, what makes you think he’s hiding anything?” I glanced at Cornelius, who was now inspecting one of the glass wall sconces while humming. “You’re not hiding anything, are you, Cornelius?”

  “Only my lucky cannon.” He tapped on the sconce. “Is this really Tiffany glass?” Before Zelda or I could answer, he turned to me and said, “Violet, we’re going to need to stop for a shake when we leave here. I have a craving for vanilla ice cream—the French custardy kind, made with eggs.” He blinked and leaned closer to me, reaching toward me with his bony fingers. “Hey, what happened to your face?”

  I slapped his hand aside. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Cornelius?”

  “Prudence says that your friend doesn’t appear to realize what he has locked away in his mind.” Zelda hobbled toward the sitting room as if each step hurt.

  “What does she mean?” I asked her backside. Did it have to do with the death of his cousin? “Tell her that i
f this is about what went down in Louisiana years ago, I already know—”

  “She says this has nothing to do with the loss of the other channeler.”

  I exchanged frowns with Cornelius. Prudence must have found his memory about the exorcism his cousin had tried to assist in as a channeler. The poor girl had ended up possessed herself and died a short time later when Cornelius and several others attempted to free her from the entity’s hold.

  “Prudence, what the hell is going on?”

  “She says that when your friend arrived,” Zelda called out from the other room, “he brought guests.”

  “What guests?” I could swear we’d come alone.

  “Prudence claims they’re waiting outside on the porch at this very moment.”

  I joined Zelda in the sitting room, marching over to the window where she’d been standing when we arrived. I parted the curtains. The porch was empty. The porch light flickered several times as I stared out the window. “I don’t see anyone.”

  Cornelius followed, bumping shoulders with me. “I don’t see anyone either.”

  “Prudence says that you both are blind.” Zelda yawned from the couch. “Do you mind if I lie down for a few minutes?”

  She didn’t wait for our response, stretching out on the burgundy leather couch cushions, her feet not quite reaching the other end of the couch. She covered her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry to be such a terrible host. If either of you would like some butterscotch cookies, I have a fresh batch in the cookie jar on the kitchen table.”

  Cornelius didn’t need a second invitation.

  After he’d left the room, I moved over to the matching burgundy chair next to where Zelda lay and took a seat. My right eye was beginning to throb above my swollen cheek. “Cornelius,” I hollered, “will you bring me some ice wrapped in a towel?”

  “We don’t have any ice,” Zelda said.

  I’d forgotten that Prudence had something against ice cubes. “I thought you were getting that fixed.”

  “The automatic dispenser still doesn’t work and I keep forgetting to buy ice trays when I’m at the store.”

  “Never mind,” I called to Cornelius.

  I glanced toward the window overlooking the porch and chewed on my lower lip. I didn’t know what was more upsetting, the idea that there were a bunch of ghosts standing around on the front porch that might have been piled in the back seat of my Honda on the way here, or that somehow something inside of Cornelius’s head had sucked up all of Prudence’s energy. She was one hell of a strong ghost. What had happened inside his melon? Was there another side of Cornelius that hadn’t shown its face yet? Something sinister? Something that might pop out and surprise me the next time we were alone in the dark?

  “Prudence,” I spoke to the ceiling, not sure where the ghost was hovering since we’d moved to the sitting room. “What happened when you were dabbling in Cornelius’s head?”

  I’d seen her wear herself out before playing puppeteer, but this was the first I’d seen Zelda suffer afterward, too.

  “She says he flummoxed her,” Zelda said.

  “How?”

  Cornelius returned carrying a handful of cookies before she could answer. His cheeks were bulging, too. “These are delicious,” he said through a mouthful of crumbs and offered me one.

  I took it. He was right. The cookie was sweet and moist, butterscotch heaven. How on earth could Zelda bake like this and stay so dang petite?

  “Prudence wants to know if you have any idea what’s in your friend’s head,” Zelda said.

  I swallowed the bite of cookie. “I’d guess oodles of random trivia and ghost-related flotsam.” I looked over at Cornelius, who was back at the window, staring out as he chewed. “Cornelius, what’s in your head?”

  He shrugged. “Mostly mathematical equations and random facts.”

  “She means his subconscious,” Zelda said, covering her eyes with her forearm.

  “How is anyone supposed to know that?”

  Cornelius glanced our way. “My grandmother used to tell me that I had a very chaotic, shadow-filled aura that required regular meditation to calm.”

  “Did you meditate today?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I looked back at Zelda. “It’s all good. He meditated today.”

  “Prudence disagrees. She says there is a small door in there that leads into a room filled with terrors.”

  I shot Cornelius a grimace. “You have a room full of terrors?”

  “Could be.” He walked over to the other window that looked out over the Open Cut. “I’ve seen some things in my time.”

  “What kind of things?” I prodded.

  “Extremely disturbing,” Zelda said, “according to Prudence.”

  “Did Prudence run into any scarecrows in there?”

  Cornelius grunted. “That’s not funny, Violet.”

  “Seriously.” I frowned at him. “How are you able to go into the dark with me if you’ve experienced such horrors?”

  “I told you, I meditate. It’s a trick my grandmother taught me to push away any disturbing thoughts and allow serenity to reign.”

  Zelda lowered her arm, sending me a worried look. “Prudence says meditation cannot shield him from what she witnessed. She believes something else is at play here.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “She wants to know if his grandmother collected his fingernails and baby teeth.”

  Cornelius turned, his brows raised. “How could she know that?”

  “She was in your head, remember?” I said.

  “Prudence believes your grandmother was more than a seer. That she wasn’t teaching you to push away your terrors, she was showing you how to lock them away for the time being.”

  I leaned forward, wishing I had another cookie so I could “eat about” this bizarre turn of events (to use one of Natalie’s favorite sayings about stress eating). “Why would his grandmother do that?”

  “Prudence isn’t sure.” Zelda pointed toward the window. “But she suspects that’s why he has a trail of ghosts following him. He’s somehow managed to lock away troubling pieces from their past behind that small door, thereby holding them hostage, if you will.” She lowered her arm and closed her eyes. “She says your friend is a spirit miser.”

  I looked at Cornelius. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “Yes. According to her, it’s dangerous to take him into the dark with you.” Zelda snorted. “She also called you a lubberwort.”

  “She’s the lubberwort,” I shot back, having absolutely no idea what that word even meant. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. A glance at the screen showed Natalie’s name and the words: Where are you????

  Crap! In the wake of everything that had happened this afternoon, I’d completely forgotten about our spying date. I checked the time. I was supposed to meet her in the parking lot behind Calamity Jane’s fifteen minutes ago.

  I stood, gingerly touching my cheek again. I really needed to find some ice. “If Prudence is done insulting me, my specter collector and I need to head out.”

  Zelda sat up. “She says you cannot leave yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she needs to tell you how to catch the Duzarx.”

  I crossed my arms. “What the hell is this Duzarx she keeps talking about?”

  “She says it’s an extremely dangerous beast that escaped from the big pit this afternoon.”

  She must mean the Open Cut. “So it’s some kind of animal?”

  “She called it a stymphalist miscreant fiend.”

  “ ‘Stymphalist’?” I repeated.

  “I believe that means smelly,” Cornelius said, standing next to me.

  “Like some kind of skunk?”

  Zelda cringed. “She asked if a skunk has eight eyes, three layers of razor-like teeth, and a lust for human flesh.”

  I cursed. “Why can’t it be cute and cuddly for once?”

  Zelda’s face lined with wor
ry. “You think there’s really such a creature as she described, Violet?”

  “No,” I lied with a twinge of guilt, but Zelda didn’t need to know anything more about my Executioner business. “Prudence is just messing with me.”

  Zelda stared at something over my shoulder. “She says the Duzarx has escaped from the realm of abysmal darkness.”

  Eek. That sounded hellish. “That Prudence,” I tried to make light of the moment. “She is such a kidder.”

  Zelda’s face paled. “And if you do not slay it by the next blood moon, all hell will be unleashed.”

  Crikey! Wasn’t it enough that I had a lidérc to catch?

  I forced a laugh. It came out with a cackling ring at the end of it. “Dang, Prudence can sure tell a tall tale.” I waved for Cornelius to follow me and headed for the foyer. “Don’t bother getting up, Zelda. We can let ourselves out easy enough.”

  “But she’s not done telling you how to catch this Duzarx.”

  “I’ll come back soon to learn all about it.”

  “Thank you for coming to help, Violet,” she called after me.

  “No problem. Tell Prudence I’ll be in touch.” Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have to find out how to kill a damned Duzarx.

  Cornelius followed me out onto the porch. I tried not to think about all of the ghosts Prudence had said were loitering there.

  I closed the door behind us and blew out a breath.

  “That was certainly an energizing experience.” Cornelius took a flying leap down the steps, landing and twirling around twice before stopping to aim a crooked smile up at me. “How about we go ice skating next?”

  I scowled. “Fucking Mercury in retrograde bullshit.”

  Taking the steps one at a time, I headed for my SUV.

  “I’ll race you,” Cornelius called and streaked past me.

  I shook my head. Dang, that was some potent shit he’d sapped from Prudence and Zelda.

  My phone buzzed. I glanced down. Natalie had texted again: Hurry up!

  “Hold your flippin’ horses,” I muttered and typed: On my way.