Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  Holy ravioli! “Were you just making a joke, Prudence?” And here I’d thought any funny bone she might possibly have possessed had probably withered up and turned to dust when the rest of her body had given up the ghost.

  She harrumphed. “I do not joke. It was merely a play on words.”

  Cornelius moved lightly over the carpet compared to Harvey and Cooper. I heard his nose whistle in my ear. The dry winter air must be getting to his sinuses like it did mine some days. I sniffed in sympathy without meaning to, then settled in for him to play his part in this song and dance.

  “What would you have me think about, milady?” he asked her in a languid tone.

  I rolled my eyes behind my closed lids.

  “Focus on the door.”

  “Which door?”

  “You know which one. Where you hide away the demons that haunt you.”

  I turned in her direction, eyes still closed. That was the same place that had knocked Prudence for a loop last time and drained her of energy, as well as Zelda. “Isn’t that putting Doc at risk?”

  “We shall only take a peek, Scharfrichter. Now, hold onto that mirror firmly.”

  Oh, shit. I gripped both the mirror and Doc’s hand tight, ready as I could be. “Do it, Cornelius.”

  I waited, counting in my head, every muscle holding tight. My hand was locked onto Doc’s like he was dangling off the edge of a building, but my palm was getting sweaty.

  Come on, baby, you can do this.

  I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Doc or myself. Or maybe he was putting those words in my head.

  He flinched, yanking on my hand a little.

  That wasn’t so bad.

  I pulled his hand my way, re-gripping quickly.

  His whole body seized then. I could feel it in the strength of his tug on my hand. The couch creaked under him.

  “Do not let go of him!” Prudence shouted.

  “I know!” But my fingers were slipping.

  He was pulling so hard. I braced my feet against the couch, using my legs to keep from being hauled on top of him if he heaved harder.

  “Now open the door, Mr. Curion,” Prudence said.

  What?!! The door wasn’t even open yet? Fuck!

  “I don’t think this is a good—” I started.

  Doc yanked hard, lifting me clear off the table as he thrashed.

  I pushed my feet against the couch while pulling back with all of my strength. Damn it! He was too strong for me. All of those hours he spent at the gym were not helping me here. I couldn’t hold him much longer. The mirror started to tilt in his direction, my hold on it slipping as well.

  “Prudence!” I yelled.

  “Hold steady, Scharfrichter!”

  “I can’t! That’s enough!”

  “Close the door!” she ordered Cornelius.

  Doc stilled so quickly that I almost toppled over backward and pulled him with me. Thankfully he was no lightweight, so I only pulled him several inches toward the edge of the couch. I struggled to sit upright, not letting the mirror touch him.

  In spite of our sweat-slicked grip, I stayed clamped onto his hand, afraid of what would happen if I let go to dry off my palm. My heart pounded in my ears, bouncing up and down on a pogo stick in my chest.

  “You can step back now, Spirit Miser.”

  The floor creaked behind me, same as when Cooper had left my side. There must be a loose board under the carpet.

  “Open your eyes, Violet.” Again, her tone was less bitchy with me. Maybe I’d passed some test in her Executioner book. Or maybe Zelda was in there somewhere taking pity on me.

  I peeked out of one eye first, making sure the non-bloody version of me was in the mirror. The coast was clear. I opened the other eye, happy to see my beat-up face and wild hair no worse for the wear.

  “Constable, take the mirror from her.”

  Cooper relieved me of that burden. I stared down at Doc’s hand that was still gripped in mine. “Can I let go of him now?”

  “Ask him yourself.”

  I looked up. Doc’s dark eyes held mine, his forehead triple-lined.

  “Well?” I asked him, trying to smile and succeeding. Mostly. Please don’t let Prudence’s voice come from his lips.

  “You could scare children with that smile, Tish.” His voice was the same deep, velvety baritone as always.

  “Oh, sweet lollipop land,” I said, my breath shaky with relief. I let go of his hand and shook the tension out of both of mine before scrubbing them on my pants. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders one at a time, then stretching them back. He swung his feet to the floor and took my hand again, cradling it while he inspected it. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, it’s fine.” I flexed it to show him. Although my arms felt a little shaky yet.

  “Good.” He looked over at Prudence, who stared at him with her white eyes and taut-jawed expression. “That last one?”

  “The Spirit Miser has quite a collection squirreled away, wouldn’t you agree?”

  His gaze shifted to Cornelius. “How in the hell are you still alive, let alone sane?”

  Cornelius pulled his furry hat back on and gave Doc his usual crooked smile. “My grandmother used to claim that Lady Fortune was in love with me.”

  Shaking his head, Doc turned to Cooper. “The Hellhole leads to the basement of the courthouse,” he said. It wasn’t a question, although it left plenty of them in my mind.

  Cooper crossed his arms after a brief nod. “I pieced it together after I dropped you two off last night. Parker’s description of the doors, stairwell, boiler room, dumbwaiter, and the hole in the wall, along with the courthouse’s location across from Calamity Jane Realty, all fit into place. I called one of the maintenance guys early and offered him a six-pack if he’d take me down there this morning.” He glanced my way. “I found the hole in the wall that Parker climbed out of.”

  Chills crept up my spine. “That was a real place?” I’d figured it happened on another plane of existence or in another realm or maybe just in my head. The fact that it was right across the street from where I spent hours every day made my hands sweaty all over again.

  “That depends on your definition of real,” Doc said.

  Cooper still watched me. “There was no miner’s lamp, though.”

  So what had happened to the lamp when I threw it at the lidérc? Had I destroyed it in that blast of blue flames? Or was it back at the bottom of the Hellhole below Calamity Jane’s? I wasn’t sure I wanted to go down there anytime soon to find out.

  “We’ll need to go over there with Violet and check it out,” Doc said.

  I grimaced, not sure I wanted to be part of that scouting adventure either.

  “What did the ghost show you?” he asked Cooper.

  “Nothing. He just stood there in the doorway to the boiler room, watching me with those dark eyes.”

  “Do you know who the wispy was?” Harvey asked.

  “No.”

  Doc’s eyes narrowed. “But he knew your name.”

  All eyes turned back to Cooper. “Yeah.” He didn’t look thrilled about it either.

  “What about me?” Harvey asked Doc, switching gears. “Did you like what I showed you?”

  Doc’s cheeks darkened. “Christ, Harvey.” He chuckled, squeezing his eyes closed, as if in pain. “I’ve heard guys talk, but never really believed that could be done.”

  Harvey hooked his thumbs in his suspenders. “I used to be a lot more limber in my youth.”

  Cooper groaned. “I don’t think I want to know what he showed you.”

  “Trust me, you don’t.” Doc opened his eyes and returned to Prudence. My gaze followed his. Only it wasn’t Prudence’s white eyes looking back at us anymore.

  Zelda smiled at me, looking tired but still chipper. “Was Prudence able to help you with your mirror?”

  “I’m not sure.” I looked to Doc for the answer. “Was she?”

  “I
think so.” He caught my hand and stood, pulling me up with him. “Please thank her for me, Zelda.”

  Zelda sighed. “She says you’re welcome.”

  Doc still held my hand. “So, are we going to use the mirror to catch a lidérc?” I asked him.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Prudence says that you will have to use Violet as bait, similar to how she showed you today.”

  “Bait?” I frowned. “Does that mean I have to get the lidérc to stand in front of the mirror with me somehow?”

  “Well …” Doc hesitated, his dark eyes clearly troubled.

  “No, Violet,” Zelda answered for him. “Prudence wants me to make it clear that the mirror will only work as a trap if the lidérc attaches to you first and then you look in the mirror.”

  “Attaches?” That was how the Executioners in my line had died violent, painful deaths in the past. But something didn’t add up. “If that’s the case, why didn’t Cooper or Harvey have to attach to me?”

  Zelda tipped her head to the side for a moment, apparently listening again. “She says that they are human. The rules are different for them. You will have to allow a parasitic embrace if you want to use your mirror to capture the lidérc.”

  A strangled wheeze leaked out of my throat. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but there’s nothing I like more than embracing soul-sucking parasites.”

  Doc’s worried brow said plenty about his feelings on the matter. “Maybe we can come up with another way to trap it.”

  “Or not. We’re running out of time, Doc.” Chewing my lower lip, I glanced around at Harvey and Cornelius, stopping on Cooper. “Does anyone have any better ideas?”

  When nobody offered up any other solutions that would save me from possibly burning to death from the inside out or tearing off my own skin, I turned to Zelda. “So, I’m the chum bait that we use to lure that smoky bastard into the mirror. Then what?”

  “According to Prudence,” Zelda said, “after the lidérc has attached, you have to try to lock it away with the others.”

  “What others?”

  Zelda looked to Doc for the answer, so I did, too. “He knows,” she said.

  Doc scrubbed his hand down his face, leaving a lot of frown lines behind. “The other entities that are imprisoned inside of your mirror.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Later that afternoon I sat at my desk, holding down the fort at Calamity Jane Realty. Outside, the sun slipped behind the hills, pulling the horizon up over its head for the night. I would have liked to follow its lead, but I had another forty-five minutes to play desk jockey before I could close up shop.

  I checked the clock on my phone for the umpteenth time, hurrying the day along. Jerry and Ben had left a half-hour ago to head to Rapid City and meet up with the producers of Paranormal Realty over dinner and drinks and finalize this coming Saturday’s release party details. Mona hadn’t come in at all today, taking some time off for once.

  My chair complained as I leaned back. Resting my purple boots on one of my open desk drawers, I picked up my cell phone and scrolled through old messages, my thoughts returning to Zelda’s place this morning.

  As we’d headed out to our vehicles, Cooper had pulled me aside.

  “I’ve been thinking,” he said.

  “Uh-oh. Who programmed you to have your own thoughts? Is this a sign that your mainframe has a virus? Should I worry about you short-circuiting and shooting at me?”

  His gaze narrowed. “You should always worry about me shooting you.”

  “I said shooting at me.”

  “Given the opportunity, Parker, I wouldn’t miss.”

  “Ahh, that makes me feel special.” I smiled extra wide and toothy. “You have to be nice to me now, Cooper. You’re sleeping with my best friend.”

  He sighed. “Yeah, she reminded me of that last night.”

  “So what were you two doing together when you called me about the imp? Did you make it clear to fourth base? Or had you already burned down her she-shed?” I wiggled my eyebrows at him, having fun messing with him, trying not to laugh. I knew how much Cooper hated me snooping into his private affairs, and now thanks to Natalie, I had an all-access backstage pass.

  He stared at me straight-faced. “Fourth base is a home run.”

  I knew that. What did he take me for? A neophyte? I leaned in and whispered, “So, did you two take a break during the seventh-inning stretch, or just push on through to the end? I mean, you are getting older, Cooper, but who doesn’t love an extra inning or two?” I held my hand out for a fist-bump on that last bit, trying not to laugh at his harsh squint.

  He knocked my fist aside. “What in the hell are you doing, Parker?”

  Picking on him for a much-needed break from my grim reality. “Isn’t that how you guys talk in the locker room? All sex and sports in between towel snaps? Or do you cops focus on sex and guns instead?”

  A small grin played at his lips—finally. “Violet Parker, you are under arrest for being a royal pain in my ass.”

  “The feeling is mutual, Detective.” I gave him a playful slug to the shoulder. “Now, what’s going on in that Terminator brain of yours?”

  “I’m not a robot.”

  “Gotcha. What’s going on in your cyborg brain?”

  He let out a heavy sigh, but continued with, “I want you to create a group text on your phone that includes Nyce, Curion, Uncle Willis, and me.”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “To serve as a network.”

  “Oh, I like networks. They’re like secret clubs. Better yet, a paranormal posse! Natalie and I used to be in one with her cousins when we were kids.”

  “No, we’re not doing the posse shit again.”

  What did he mean “again”?

  “This network is for emergency use only, Parker.”

  “You mean like the Bat-signal?” I planted my hands on my hips in a mock superhero pose. “This city needs me,” I repeated one of the lines I remembered from the dark-caped hero. “Because I’m Batman.”

  His mouth twitched. “That is a light in the sky, Parker. This is just a group text. Bring it down a few notches, Executioner Girl.”

  I blew out a breath. “Fine, Detective Party Pooper.” I took out my cell phone and quickly made the group, asking him, “What about Natalie and Aunt Zoe and Reid?”

  He frowned back at Zelda’s house. “Let’s just keep this among the five of us for now. In my experience, more than five is too many cooks in the kitchen.”

  I would rather have a bunch of extra cooks in my kitchen, especially the likes of Aunt Zoe and Natalie, but this was his idea so I went with it for the time being.

  Now, as I stared down at my cell phone, I smiled at the group I’d created per his instructions. I’d labeled it PP for “Paranormal Posse,” and told him so on the spot. That acronym had spurred a full-face scowl from Cooper, but I’d disregarded his bossy order to change the name from PP to something less asinine and gone on my merry way.

  After another glance at the clock followed by a sigh, I sent the group a message: What’s for supper?

  I took a sip of lukewarm mint tea. Maybe I should swing by the grocery store for pizza on the way home. No, we just had that last night.

  Harvey replied, Johnny-on-the-spot: Something with bacon.

  I replied: We had bacon for breaking … stupid phone … for breakfast.

  Doc joined with: You can never have too much bacon.

  Harvey replied: I agree with your stallion. Same goes for cheese and potatoes.

  Cornelius popped in: EMF meter in Jerry’s office is spiking.

  I checked the hallway. I had every single light on in the place this afternoon, including those in Jerry’s office. Call me Elvis-the-Chicken Jr., but I wasn’t taking any chances with that Hellhole in the closet, which was closed up tight again thanks to Jane.

  Me: What’s that got to do with supper, Cornelius?

  Cornelius: I’m looking at the banana I left on your bo
ss’s file cabinet.

  Harvey: I could make Bananas Flambé for dessert.

  Me: You’ll burn your bear.

  Harvey: Isn’t that code for having sex with an extra hairy woman?

  Me (after cursing at my phone): I meant your beard.

  Doc: Hairy sex aside, I nominate Harvey to cook tonight.

  Me: I agree—about supper, not Harvey’s word for hairy sex. Cornelius, you’re joining us, right?

  Cornelius: That depends.

  Me: On what?

  Cornelius: Your dead boss.

  Harvey: You thinking about bringing a date, Corny? Sex with dead people is called necrophilia, Sparky.

  Me: I know all about sex with dead people!

  Crap. That hadn’t come out the way I’d meant it to.

  Doc’s reply was a laughing smiley face and the words: Do tell, Boots.

  Cornelius added: Violet likes to read the obituaries before making her plans for the weekend.

  I chuckled, wondering if Cornelius was watching the video monitors right now. I flipped off the video camera in the upper corner of the room that faced in my direction.

  Cornelius: Violet, did you know that the phallic gesture you’re making at the camera is one of the most ancient insults still in use.

  Harvey: I thought Sparky said no one-eyed willy pics allowed.

  I groaned aloud in the quiet office. I had told Harvey that rule on the way back to Deadwood after leaving Prudence’s, because he’d mentioned how some of the old dames at the senior center liked to have fun sending pictures of penises back and forth as practical jokes. I didn’t want him filling our Paranormal Posse feed with dick pics. Cooper would probably arrest his uncle for pornography and tag me with handcuffs by association.

  Damn it, Parker! Cooper’s name popped up on my screen, making me cringe. Speak of the devil. I told you to keep this group channel clear except for emergencies!

  My neck warmed. Of course Cooper would have to join our conversation right when the topic of penises was being bandied about.

  I held out my middle finger in the direction of the Deadwood police station and tapped out a reply to Cooper with my other hand: My phallic fest urges is aimed at you now, Detective Spoilsport.