Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  “And Masterson joined Coop at the party, huh?” Harvey shook his head. “That seems a bit like a prostitute showing up for Sunday school.”

  “I agree. Either Dominick knows the imp is free or he’s looking for someone else.” We both pondered that in silence as I pulled into Zelda’s drive. “There’s something I didn’t mention about our visit here today.”

  “What’s that?”

  I pointed out the windshield. “We have a special guest.”

  Mr. Black stood on the porch dressed in a long dark duster, staring back at us.

  The curtain in the downstairs window swayed, a shadow moving behind it.

  Harvey leaned forward. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Yep. Mr. Black needs to talk to Prudence and me.”

  “Then why’d ya bring me along?”

  “Because I’m not going in that house alone.”

  “Couldn’t you have wrangled another sucker to drag inside?”

  “No. You’re the one I want by my side.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Prudence has never made you hurt me.” Unlike several others, including Cooper. I killed the engine. “Are you ready?”

  “Hell no.”

  “Me neither. Let’s go see what’s got Mr. Black looking like he’s about to cloud up and rain on our heads.”

  Chapter Ten

  “That there porch ghost of yours looks mean enough to hunt bears with a hickory switch,” Harvey said, still staring out the windshield. “You sure you’ll be needin’ a bodyguard in that badger’s den? Might be better if I wait out here in the getaway car.”

  “You’re going in that house with me, old man, even if I have to drag you by the beard.”

  He lifted his hands as though I had him at gunpoint. “There’s no need to bare your teeth at me, curly wolf. It was just a notion. I’ll go in with you, but you need to buy me lunch if we make it back out with our hides still in one piece.”

  My cell phone rang as he was reaching for the door handle.

  “Hold on a minute.” A glance at the phone’s screen made me cringe. “Shit.”

  “Who is it?” he asked.

  “Your nephew.”

  He made a pained face that probably matched mine. Calls from Cooper were often unpleasant yet necessary—much like routine pelvic exams and colonoscopies.

  Harvey pointed at my phone. “You better take that or the boy will hunt you down here and join our little fright fest. You remember what happened the last time Coop paid Prudence a visit with us.”

  Yeah, I’d left with more bruises.

  “Okay, I’ll make it quick. Let Mr. Black know that I’ll be a few more minutes.”

  “Will do.” Harvey raised one finger in the windshield, apparently using the game of charades to send Mr. Black my message.

  “I meant go up there and tell him.”

  “I ain’t gonna go shoot the shit with your ghosty-lookin’ pal on crazy Prudence’s front porch. You think I’m studyin’ to be a half-wit?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him and then hit the answer button. “Hello, Detective Cooper.” I made an effort to sound polite being that he’d probably been up since zero-dark-thirty, not to mention that he was secretly dating my best friend. “How can I help you?”

  “Who is this?” Cooper sounded suspicious.

  “You know who it is. You called me.”

  “You’re being way too nice. If someone is holding you hostage, cough twice.”

  “Nobody is holding me freaking hostage. What in the hell do you want?”

  Harvey grinned at me, giving me a thumbs-up.

  “Ah, that’s more like it,” Cooper said. “Where are you?”

  “Who needs to know?” As far as Detective Hawke was concerned, I was working on my tan up on the moon.

  “I do.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. I wasn’t sure if Cooper checking up on my location was a good thing or bad. “Am I in trouble?”

  “If you don’t answer my fucking question, you will be.”

  When I still hesitated, he growled. “Would you just tell me where you are, Parker?”

  I glanced out the windshield. Mr. Black was still watching us as blasts of wind ruffled his white hair. Harvey was looking out the windshield, too, but his focus appeared to be centered on a tan rectangular rock that was stuck in the snow near the base of my wipers.

  I came clean. “I’m about to pay Prudence a visit.”

  There was a pause on Cooper’s end, and then, “Weren’t you just there yesterday?”

  “Are you keeping a diary on my whereabouts, Detective?”

  “Christ, woman. Why do you have to be so damned prickly all of the time?”

  “That’s rich, coming from you, Mr. Cactus Pants.”

  “That’s so lame. You’re slipping on your insults.”

  I huffed. “Is there a reason you called, or did you get bored in between painting little pistols on your toenails and carving hearts in your desk with ‘Cooper + Hawke’ in them, and decided now was as good a time as any to harass innocent Deadwood citizens?”

  He chuckled. “That’s more like it, Sparky.”

  I pulled my phone away to scowl down at it, then held it back up to my ear. “Did you just call me ‘Sparky,’ Coop?”

  “Okay, let’s call a truce now, Parker, before one of us pushes the other too far and winds up in jail wearing my handcuffs.”

  While Cooper was making his vague threat, Harvey opened the passenger door and stepped outside.

  Where was he going?

  Harvey shut the door, leaving me alone with his nephew’s sunshiny personality.

  “Cooper, I don’t have time to listen to your law-dog barking. I’m hanging up.”

  “Parker, wait!”

  “What?”

  “I believe we have another ‘sticky’ situation up in Lead—a mix of shoplifting and vandalism at the minimart.”

  “So, that’s why there were so many cop cars parked willy-nilly when I passed through downtown a few minutes ago.”

  Harvey leaned across the windshield and plucked the tan rock from the snow.

  “You didn’t do anything stupid and go take a closer look, did you?”

  “No. I run away from the cops, not toward them.”

  “I noticed that.” The sound of paper shuffling came through the line. “The crime occurred in broad daylight this time, no slinking around in the dark.”

  I wondered why Cooper was feeling so chatty about this. Usually when I prodded him for any kind of information on a crime scene, I hit his “none of your business” brick wall repeatedly.

  “Were there any witnesses?” I asked.

  “Nope. The store was empty except for the clerk, who was in the back using the bathroom at the time.” More paper shuffling came through the line. “The thief knocked over a standalone floor shelf near the cash register, broke the glass doors on two refrigerated merchandiser units, and made a royal mess of the candy aisle.”

  Outside my windshield, Harvey frowned down at the tan rock in his gloved hand, inspecting it up close.

  “Was any money missing?”

  “The money appears to be all there, but there were some gnawed-on honey taffy bars left in its wake.”

  More honey products? “That’s weird.”

  “No, you’re weird, Parker. This shit is bananas.”

  Harvey lifted the rock to his nose. I grimaced out the windshield at him, but he was too busy sniffing the rock to notice my scrunched-up face.

  “You should probably lay low for a while,” Cooper said, “so that nobody tries to tie any of this back to you.”

  Hold up. Was Cooper actually watching my back? I pinched myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Nope, this was the real deal. Apparently, sex with Natalie had oiled his rusted heart.

  On the other side of my windshield, Harvey licked the rock. Why would he …? I leaned closer to the windshield. Maybe I’d seen that wrong.

  He licked the rock again.
/>
  Cheez whiz! Had Prudence taken over his gray matter?

  “Did you hear me, Parker?” Cooper barked in my ear.

  “Yes, sorry.” I sat back, picking my jaw up from the floor mat. “Your uncle is distracting me.”

  “You took Uncle Willis with you to the Carhart house?” There was no missing the displeased tone in that question.

  “Of course.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s my bodyguard.”

  Cooper let out a machine-gun spray of curses, two of which mentioned my “wild hairs.”

  “Nothing is going to happen to him, Cooper. And you need to take back what you said about my hair.”

  “You can’t guarantee his safety, and my comment about your hair stands until you stop dragging innocent bystanders into that fucked-up freak show of a house.”

  “It’s a beautiful house,” I said, staring at its two-story loveliness. It just had an ugly history. “Listen, Detective Crybaby, I am ninety-nine percent certain that Prudence is going to be too distracted today to mess with your uncle.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Mr. Black is here to talk to the two of us.”

  His end of the line went silent.

  On the other side of my windshield, Harvey held up the tan rock for me to see and pointed at it, mouthing something. Unfortunately, I was as bad at reading lips as I was at wiring rocket engines.

  “Mr. Black is there?” Cooper asked in my ear.

  “Yep.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, Cooper. At this very moment.”

  “What’s he want?” Cooper asked.

  “I don’t know because I’m still stuck in my dang vehicle talking to a pain-in-the-ass detective right now.”

  Cooper snarled at me.

  “That’s some real good dog acting, Cooper. If Detective Hawke gets your detective badge pulled, they could put you in charge of training the K-9 unit.”

  “You’re lucky I’m on your side, Parker. Call me when you’re done there.”

  “I’m sorry, did I miss the word ‘please’ somewhere in that order?”

  “Just do it, damn it! And don’t make me come looking for you.” Without further bossiness, he hung up on me.

  I flipped off my phone. If Natalie was going to continue doing the horizontal boogie on the sly with that man, she needed to teach him some phone etiquette.

  I made sure I had my sunglasses to cover the whites of Prudence’s eyes and then shoved open my door, scrambling out from behind the wheel. “What are you doing, Harvey? And why on earth did you lick that?”

  “You’re not gonna believe what this is,” he said, holding up the tan stone as I rounded the front of my Honda.

  The memory of the imp throwing something at my windshield flashed through my thoughts.

  “It’s a piece of a honey taffy bar,” I said, taking the candy from him and pocketing it. We needed to get rid of the evidence before someone else saw it—someone with pork chop sideburns and a hard-on to see me behind bars.

  Harvey gaped at me. “How in tarnation did you figure that out?”

  I motioned for him to walk and talk with me, speaking quietly as we made our way to the porch. “Your nephew just told me that the minimart down on Lead’s main drag was vandalized by the imp.”

  “That explains the Johnny Law meetin’ downtown.”

  “Other than damaging some shelves and a couple of coolers, the little shit left behind partially eaten honey taffy bars.”

  “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle!”

  I scowled into the freezing wind. “I should have chased after it.”

  “If you had, we’d have been late for this here date.”

  “Right.” Not to mention Prudence’s tooth threat.

  Mr. Black watched us climb the porch steps. His pale face showed no signs of red from the frigid weather, cementing my earlier notion that the cold didn’t bother him much. Although he was wearing a long coat that reminded me of a gangster from the 1940s.

  “Your troubles are multiplying, Scharfrichter,” Mr. Black said in his rich, deep voice as we joined him on the porch. Once again, like the last couple of times I’d talked to him, he spoke in clear English, with not even a trace of the Slavic-like accent I’d first heard him use long ago.

  “You noticed that, huh?” I stared up at him, trying to read how much his being here was going to put a tail spin on my day, but he had an ace poker face.

  The front door opened before we could say anything else. Zelda stood in the doorway—and it was really Zelda, at the moment. I could tell by her clear green eyes and perky smile, both of which matched the big happy-faced daisy on her white sweater.

  “Hi, Violet.” She turned to my partner in crime. “Good to see you again, Mr. Harvey.” Her smile faltered when it landed on Mr. Black, but she held the door wide. “Why don’t you three come in out of the cold?”

  Mr. Black motioned for us to lead the way, so I made a mental effort to steady my nerves and went first. Walking into Prudence’s house was akin to diving into a cold dark pool filled with a bad-tempered shark. Harvey shuffled in behind me, muttering something under his breath about feeling like he was walking into a necktie party.

  The foyer smelled the same as yesterday, sweet with a hint of pain surely to come. The lights were on this time, though, which was an improvement from the hair-raising darkness I’d endured with Cornelius yesterday. I could hear some soft guitar, blues-type music coming from the kitchen. It sounded like Eric Clapton, but the voice didn’t match.

  Zelda closed the front door after we’d all made it inside and locked it. I tried not to let the heavy clunk of the deadbolt spike my blood pressure, taking a deep breath, but my shoulders tightened anyway.

  “Follow me,” Zelda said, stepping around us and heading for the living room.

  Mentally crossing my fingers that a second round in the ring with Prudence was not about to take place, I followed her and took a seat at the far end of the couch. What I wouldn’t do to be sitting in Aunt Zoe’s kitchen right about now with her Betty Boop cookie jar clutched in my arms and my cheeks full of chocolate-anything cookies.

  Harvey plopped down on the other end of the couch, keeping a safe, out-of-reach distance from me. After the wacky shit we’d witnessed at Prudence’s hands in this very room, we both preferred to keep a planet-sized circle of safe space around us if possible.

  Mr. Black didn’t sit. Instead, he walked to the front window where I’d seen the sheer curtain sway upon our arrival and stared out into the snowy world. His back was ramrod straight. The side of his face had hard edges under a layer of pale skin. Something about his stance made me think that he didn’t want to be here anymore than I did.

  Zelda stood clutching her hands behind the leather chair, shooting worried glances in Mr. Black’s direction. “Can I get you anything to drink? Tea or coffee?”

  “I’ll take some warm whiskey if ya have it,” Harvey said. “Three fingers’ worth.”

  “I’m good,” I told Zelda, frowning at Harvey.

  He frowned back and whispered, “What? This occasion calls for some bottled courage.”

  Zelda turned to Mr. Black. I could see her indecision on her face. She was probably debating on pressing him for a drink order or leaving him to his rigid post at the window. In the end, she opted for the latter and disappeared.

  I shifted on the couch, trying to ease the tense muscles burning in the middle of my back. I wondered if Prudence was in the room with us, and if so, was she standing over me calculating how to bruise me next.

  I looked at Harvey. He was staring straight ahead, opening and closing his mouth, like a fish out of water.

  I cleared my throat. When he turned my way, I gave him a what-the-hell look. He mouthed something back, but I had no idea what he’d said.

  What? I mouthed back.

  He waved me off, continuing with his fish impression.

  When I returned to Mr. Black, his dark eyes were locke
d on me—wary in his scrutiny. I felt as if he were trying to see something behind my eyes that only he knew was there, but what? A nugget of subconscious truth maybe, or evidence of a secret I hadn’t realized yet.

  I shifted again, glancing toward the kitchen. Where was Zelda with that dang drink? Was this one of Prudence’s games—rushing me here and then forcing me to sit quietly and wait until she was good and ready.

  I focused back on Mr. Black, squaring my shoulders. Enough of this silence. “How long have you known Ms. Zuckerman?”

  “A long time.” He spoke succinctly, offering no further explanation.

  But I wanted more. “As long as she knew Ms. Wolff?”

  Rumor had it that the dead Timekeeper and Ms. Zuckerman had been thick as thieves for many, many, many moons.

  “Longer.”

  I looked over at Harvey. He motioned me to continue.

  I pointed at him and flapped my fingers and thumb together, wanting him to join in the conversation.

  He shook his head and zipped his lips, the big chicken.

  Zelda returned with a small glass half-filled with amber liquid and handed it to Harvey. “It’s not the most expensive whiskey, but it’s Zeke’s favorite and packs a strong punch.”

  He took it. “Much obliged.” Without pause, he downed half of it in one swallow. Then he coughed, gasped, and coughed again before smiling at her. “Good stuff,” he said in a strained voice.

  Zelda sat stiffly in the burgundy leather chair, casting cautious glances all around.

  Okay, enough with whatever game Prudence was playing today. It was time to get this show on the road. “I’m sorry to be rude, Zelda, but could you please tell Prudence to come out and play. I’m sure Mr. Black has limited time to offer us today.”

  Zelda gave me a strained smile. “Prudence is already here.”

  I looked back at Harvey, expecting to see the whites of his eyes, meaning Prudence was using him as her puppet today. But his blue eyes stared back at me. He opened and closed his mouth twice more.

  “What is that you’re doing?” I asked, loud and clear.

  “Seein’ if I’m still runnin’ the strings or not.”

  Apparently, he was.

  To Zelda I asked, “Is there some reason Prudence isn’t using you to channel?”