by Ann Charles
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated again. “Hold on.” I pulled out my cell phone since Jerry wasn’t there, scowling down at Zelda’s name. Prudence needed to learn the art of patience, dang it. “I’m going to have to take this, you guys. I’ll be right back.”
I slid out of the booth and headed for the ladies’ restroom, answering the call as I pushed open the bathroom door. “Hi, Zelda. Is everything okay?”
“No,” she whispered, which didn’t surprise me one iota. “There’s someone here.”
Why was she calling me about a visitor? I bent over and peeked under the bathroom stalls to make sure I didn’t have any eavesdroppers. The coast was clear. “You mean besides the bossy ghost you live with?”
“Yes. There’s a man standing outside on my porch.” It sounded like she was cupping her hand around the microphone now. “He looks super freaky, Violet.”
Huh. Maybe she was calling because her visitor was a certain detective I knew and daydreamed about hexing semi-often. But why would Detective Hawke be looking for me there? Was that why there’d been sirens heading up to Lead?
“Is your visitor sporting pork chop sideburns and a unibrow on a face that only Bigfoot’s mother could love?” I didn’t mention Hawke’s usual 1970s-style corduroy jacket because he was probably wearing a coat over it.
“No. He’s very pale with a thick crop of white hair, but he doesn’t look old—just sort of rough. Like he’s been out in the weather for too long.”
Oh! I frowned at my reflection in the mirror, pretty sure I knew exactly who she was describing. “Is he tall and lanky with dark eyes that are kind of bulbous?”
“Yes!”
Bingo. Mr. Black was back. I hadn’t seen the Timekeeper/sentinel/big white enigma in a few weeks now. The last time he’d basically appeared out of nowhere, he’d shown up in Aunt Zoe’s workshop with a ticking time bomb for me—actually, it hadn’t been ticking at the time of delivery—and then spilled the beans about my boyfriend being an Oracle. That day I’d found out that I might have initially latched onto Doc for reasons beyond just being warm for his form. It turned out that Oracles were like very rare lucky charms, and an Executioner such as myself could benefit from mating with one on several counts. And here I’d thought the multiple orgasms were the bonus gift.
Anyway, what in Hades was Mr. Black doing up at Zelda’s house? Why didn’t he knock to go inside? It was freaking cold out today. Then again, maybe the cold didn’t bother him like it did us plain-jane mortals.
“So, he’s just standing on your porch?”
“Well, he’s smoking a cigarette right now.” A shuffling sound came from her end of the line. “Prudence says you have to get up here right now.”
“Why me?”
“She says the pale man is here to talk to you. That’s why she had me call you.”
“Why would he show up on your doorstep if he’s there to see me?”
The line went quiet.
After several beats, I pressed the phone even closer. “Zelda, are you there?”
“Executioner!” Prudence’s harsh tone nearly broke my eardrum. Apparently, Zelda wasn’t getting the job of summoning me done right. “Your presence is required post-haste!”
I switched to my other non-ringing ear, scowling at the checkered floor. “You know I don’t like it when you boss me around, Prudence. Now put Zelda back on.”
“No. There is no time for such foolishness. You will come here now. We have a visitor.”
We? “Why don’t you open the door and see what he wants, then I’ll decide if I need to rush up there and look into your creepy white eyes again.”
A snarling sound came through the line. “I know what he wants, you fopdoodle! He’s arrived with dire news.”
I wasn’t sure what a “fopdoodle” was, but I would hazard a guess that it wasn’t some superior breed of dog known for its high intelligence. “How do you know it’s dire?”
“Because Mademoiselle Zuckerman has sent her favorite Hund.”
Zuckerman? As in the partner of Ms. Wolff, aka the Timekeeper whose role I’d taken after her death—which happened to be by my hand, but that wasn’t my fault.
“Her Hund?”
Prudence sighed loudly, my vast stupidity apparently knocking the wind out of her. “Yes! Her Hund. Her dog. Or as you call him, Mr. Black.”
I took a step back in surprise at this revelation, bumping into the wall and almost knocking a framed picture of the old town of Pluma in its heyday off the wall. “So Mr. Black knows Ms. Zuckerman?”
“Did I not say as much?” Prudence snapped. “Now hurry up and join us.”
“I’m in a meeting right now.” Actually, it was pretty much over, but Prudence needed to understand I was not at her beck and call. “Why can’t he just tell you his dire news and then you can have Zelda call and fill me in?”
“The Hund will not speak until we are both present. That is his way.”
Jiminy Cricket! It appeared today was going to be full of impromptu meetings—first Cooper at Doc’s; then Jerry here, now Mr. Black up at Prudence’s. With a séance on my schedule for tonight, I could hardly wait to find out who and what came next.
“If you are not here within a quarter hour,” Prudence continued, “it will cost you a tooth.”
I winced at her threat, knowing she meant it and would take pleasure in the bloody process. Prudence was prone to violence first and foremost. It was probably due to her Executioner blood. I understood that tendency all too well. Violence was my middle name these days.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Do not delay.”
“Didn’t I just say I’d be—”
The line went dead.
“Son of a peach pit!” I pocketed my cell phone and slipped inside a stall to take care of business now so that Prudence wouldn’t scare the piss out of me later.
After a quick pep rally in the bathroom mirror, I headed back out front. Jerry had returned and was pulling a credit card out of his wallet. I asked if the meeting was over, mumbling Cooper’s name and throwing out “a potential house in Lead” as an excuse to leave. Jerry gave me a thumbs-up while Mona nailed me with a suspicious squint and Ben wished me good luck. With a fake smile and a “Thanks for breakfast,” I was off, stuffing my arms in my coat as I raced out the door.
My cell phone rang as I crossed the parking lot.
Crikey! What in the hell did Prudence want now?
A glance at the screen made me breathe in relief. It wasn’t Prudence or Zelda this time.
“Hey, Harvey,” I answered.
“I need your help,” he shot back.
An idea floated my way. It was actually more like a lifesaving ring “I’ll be your huckleberry, but you have to do me a favor first.”
He hesitated. “Maybe I’m barkin’ up the wrong tree. How about we hang up and I call your aunt instead?”
“Too late.” I unlocked my Honda and slid inside. “You’re on the hook.”
“More like I’m snake-bit,” he grumbled.
“Where are you?” I started the engine.
“I’m where I’m always at when I’m not serenadin’ the pretty ladies at the senior center—your stallion’s place.”
“Good. Grab your coat and wait outside for me. I’ll be there in two shakes.”
“Wait! Where are we goin’?”
“I’ll explain when I pick you up.” Before he could buck any more, I hung up and shifted into gear.
A few minutes later, I pulled into Doc’s drive.
Harvey was waiting in the driveway with his favorite shotgun in hand. He opened my back door, sliding Bessie under the back seat, and then climbed in front next to me and closed the door. His stiff canvas coat rustled as he settled into the seat.
The smell of sweet baked chocolate had me sniffing his way. “Why do you smell like brownies?”
“I’d just finishing makin’ some when you called.”
“You called me.”
“Right, and I’m thinkin’ that was my first mistake.”
I backed out of the drive. “Why are you bringing your shotgun?”
“In case this so-called favor of yours ends up bringin’ about my second mistake.”
“You don’t need a gun for this.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. When it comes to you and favors, things get pretty dicey. Settin’ on a powder keg while smokin’ a cigarette is less risky.”
“Come on now.” I started down the street. “I’m not that bad.”
“Sure ya ain’t,” he said, nodding that I was. “So, where are we headin’ then?”
I hit the automatic door lock. “Lead.”
His gaze narrowed. “Where in Lead?”
I waited until we were back on the main road out of town. “A beautiful house.”
“Sassy-frassy! We’re headin’ up to see that goldurn, ring-tailed tooter, ain’t we?”
“Well, if by ‘tooter’ you mean Prudence, then yes.”
“Pull over.” He unlocked his door.
I hit the lock button. “No. Last night you said that the next time I go to Prudence’s place I should take you with me, remember?” There might have been a “probably” in there somewhere, but there was no use dwelling on the past. He was coming along.
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Too bad. I can’t handle going up there alone.”
He knew how skittish that house made me ever since I’d nearly been sacrificed by a whack job with a wish to use my womb to help spawn a pustule-covered demon named Kyrkozz. Prudence and her human ventriloquist acts had only made me want to cower in a corner even more.
Half of his face pinched in a cringe. “I don’t like the notion of bein’ that fireball’s puppet.”
“Neither do I, but I need you to help me deal with whatever monkey poo Prudence is going to fling today.”
He harrumphed.
“And in exchange, I’ll deliver on the favor you were calling about.”
I glanced out his window as we passed Bighorn Billy’s. Jerry’s Hummer and Mona’s SUV were still in the lot, but Ben’s Subaru was missing. I wondered what the two ex-love birds were chatting about inside.
“What was the favor you were going to ask from me, anyway?”
He crossed his arms. “I didn’t want a favor. I just wanted your help.”
“Same difference.”
“It ain’t.” He glared at me. “Besides, you swindled me into this favor of yours. I was openly asking for help, no trickery involved.”
We passed under the old trestle and started winding up the gulch toward Lead.
“I didn’t trick you. I just omitted one tiny detail.”
“Girl, do you think I just fell off the back of a turnip truck?”
I knew better than to reply to that. “So what did you want my help with?”
“Coop’s birthday is coming up next week.”
I snorted. “That makes total sense.”
“How’s that?”
“Cooper’s a Capricorn.”
“Yeah, so?”
“Capricorns are die-hard worker bees. They like to make their own rules, and they will give up everything to achieve a goal.” And by everything, I was thinking of Cooper’s rendezvous with Natalie behind the Purple Door Saloon years ago when he’d given up a night of sex with her to chase down crooks. “They also tend to live behind walls they build to protect themselves, since they struggle to express their feelings.”
“How do you know so much about Capricorns?”
“Back before I had kids, I dated a guy who touted his Capricorn-ness. His name was Theodore and he worked in the IT department at a big accounting firm down in Rapid.” I chuckled at the memory of the few dates good old Theo and I had. “He liked to plan our dates down to how long we would take for appetizers, the main course, and dessert. Unfortunately for him, I tended to be pretty impulsive and rarely showed up on time, skipped the appetizers, and ordered dessert first.”
“How’s that different from now?” Harvey teased.
“Theodore also liked to plan out any after-dinner foreplay. I learned this little truth nugget after our third date when he handed me a schedule listing how long he wanted to spend kissing, and which order and direction I should rub his nipples.”
“You’re pullin’ my leg.”
“Nope. I still remember—it was counter-clockwise three times on the right and then clockwise three times; then repeat the cycle on the left one.” I could only imagine his numbered instructions for full-on sex. He probably counted thrusts and retreats, too. “That printed schedule was why we never made it to a fourth date.”
“Your Capricorn tale sort of reminds me of a gal I used to run up to North Dakota to visit twice a year.”
“Was she pretty regimented?”
“Nah, she was feisty, a real bobcat in your bedroll kind of girl, but she’d wear these tassels on her hooters and could make them circle in opposite directions at the same time. Sort of looked like one of those spinnin’ Chinese firecrackers when she got them whirlin’.”
I backhanded him in the chest, making him grunt.
“What was that for?” he asked, his two gold teeth shining back at me through his wiseacre grin.
“Because your bawdy tale had nothing to do with the subject at hand. You told me that story on purpose to make me blush.” And he’d succeeded. My cheeks were good and toasty.
“Maybe I did, or maybe I was just sharing nipple yarns with you. The point is, Coop’s birthday is coming up soon and while he doesn’t want to do anything about it, I’m thinkin’ maybe we should throw a surprise party anyway.”
I was thinking maybe we should NOT. Having a party against Cooper’s wishes would be like trying to shoe a wild bronco, sure to leave us kicked and bruised.
But rather than be a party pooper, I asked, “Do you have any ideas so far?”
We weaved through the valley below the Sugarloaf Building, which sat up high on the right.
“We could have Natalie pop up out of a cake.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Let me guess, she’d be wearing a bikini.”
“No need to go that far, bein’ it’s winter and all. A tube top, short-shorts, and a tool belt would work just as well.”
“Tool belt?”
“Sure. You should’ve seen the way Coop gawked at Natalie down in Arizona when she was hammering on that back deck off her grandpa’s house. Hey, you think she could make a pair of tassels twirl, too?”
“No, and I doubt that Cooper the Capricorn would want Natalie doing any sort of burlesque acts for anyone other than him.”
He scratched his whiskers. “You’re probably right. That boy always was stingy with his favorite toys.”
As we neared the store Cooper had paid a visit to earlier this morning opposite the Open Cut, we came upon a line of cars and pickups that were rolling along at a slow but steady pace. I tapped on the brakes, wondering if this backup had anything to do with what had the Deadwood police racing up to Lead earlier.
“To be honest,” I said, “I’m not sure we should have a surprise party for Cooper.”
“Why not?”
“The guy’s blood pressure is already red-lining. He’ll probably end up shooting someone by accident, and with my luck it will be me.”
Harvey snickered. “You do make him mad enough to eat bees some days.”
Traffic started moving along a little faster. Thank the Maker because I was already taking too long to get to Prudence’s place, and I really liked all of my teeth where they were.
“What do you think is going on up ahead?” I asked as we rolled by the old First National Bank building. A block up I could see several cop cars with their lights flashing.
“I can’t tell. There seems to be some kind of commotion goin’ on in front of the mining museum.”
“Looks like they’re detouring us around it.”
Obeying the cop in the middle of the street
directing traffic, I made a left on Siever Street and a right on Julius Street, going around the back of the Opera House. Harvey and I both craned our necks, trying to see what was happening up on the main drag, but the buildings were in the way.
I focused back on the road in front of me. “Let me know if you see anyth—Ahhh!”
I hit my horn and slammed on the brakes as the imp from the Sugarloaf Building loped across the road right in front of us.
“Ho!” Harvey shouted, using the dashboard to brace himself.
The imp screeched and jumped straight up, coming down on my hood.
My jaw fell open. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
The imp looked through the windshield at me, its lips pulling back in a snarl. It hissed and threw something small and hard at the windshield.
Before I could blink, the sucker shot off the hood and scurried off to my left, dashing around several trees, running along a wooden fence, and disappearing behind an apartment building.
“What in tarnation, girl!”
“I just saw the imp. It headed up that way.” I thumbed out my window.
“I didn’t see a thing.” He peered around me. “But I heard a stone hit the window.”
“It threw something at me.” I tried to catch a glimpse of the imp again, but it was well hidden—or gone. “Should I chase after it?”
A horn honked long and loud.
“The guy behind us doesn’t think so.”
Neither would Prudence. “Damn it!” I hit the gas, cursing at the bad timing of all of this.
Three blocks later we were back on track to pull into Zelda’s drive within a few minutes. “I could have had that son of a gun.”
“Maybe, but probably not. The way your aunt talks, they’re slippery devils, like your lidérc.”
“The lidérc is slippery and smoky. That imp is just a pain in my butt.” I frowned into the rearview mirror. “I sure hope that whatever is going on back there with the cops has nothing to do with that little shit, or your nephew is going to be coming my way to deliver another ass-chewing.”
“What are you talkin’ about?”
I told Harvey the story about the store that was broken into early that morning and about the honey products that had been partially destroyed.
