Deadwood Mystery 11 - Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

Doc replied: Keep your phallic fest urges in your pants, Killer.

  I frowned at his message. My what?

  Then I looked up at the line I’d texted to Cooper and cursed at what was supposed to be the words phallic gesture. Stupid freaking autocorrect!

  Cooper: Parker! Don’t make me come over there.

  Harvey wrote again: Hoo, baby! This is better than getting one-eyed willy pics from the blue-haired babes at the senior center.

  Me: And that’s our show today, boys. Over and gout!

  Me: Over add our!

  Me: An hour!

  Me: Gahhhhh. Never mind.

  I set my cell phone facedown on my desk, glaring at it. “I don’t like the words you put in my mouth.”

  A gust of wind whistled outside, making the silver maple trees across the street at the courthouse whip back and forth. Small branches tumbled along Sherman Street, caught in the flurry, as the building around me creaked and groaned. I sat up, lowering my boots to the floor, and frowned toward Jerry’s office. Light spilled from his open doorway into the hall, no creepy blinking lights or weird shadows to be seen.

  My shoulders still tense, I sat back in my chair and picked up my phone again. Another half hour and I could skip on home, change out of my wool dress pants and silk blouse, and slip back into my loose and comfy yoga wear.

  I pulled up Natalie’s phone number. I could call her and ask for the juicy details on what had happened with Cooper last night after they left Aunt Zoe’s house. Well, maybe not the real “juicy” stuff, since it was Cooper we were talking about and I didn’t want to ruin my appetite for whatever bacon-flavored dish Harvey might be making for supper.

  A gunshot banged behind me—at least that was what it sounded like.

  I screeched and nearly fell out of my chair. In my haste to scramble to my feet, I dropped my phone, which slid under my desk. Leaving it be for now, I tiptoed to the end of the well-lit hallway. The old oak floorboards creaked under my boots, tattling about my whereabouts.

  “Who’s there?” I called, sounding a little croaky since my mouth had gone dry. My pulse throbbed in my ears, making it hard to hear much over the whooshing sound of blood rushing this way and that in a panic.

  Nobody answered me, but it looked like Jerry’s door was closed now. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad. Chewing on my lower lip, I tried to decide if I should investigate further or just pack it up and call it a day.

  “Don’t be such a chicken,” I whispered to myself.

  “Kiss my ass,” I whispered back.

  Common sense told me the slamming door was a combination of the wind and the heating vents causing weird drafts. It wasn’t the first time a random door had closed in this place. In the summer, when the air conditioning kicked on, the bathroom door would shut on its own sometimes, too.

  But still …

  I listened for footfalls or floorboard creaks coming from Jerry’s office, but heard nothing.

  Yeah, it must have been the wind. But just in case it wasn’t, I decided to clear the air. “Jane, if that door slam was your doing, please stop messing with me. I’ve had enough scares already for one day.”

  Trying not to think about the Hellhole or that red-armed monster with the sharp talons, I returned to my desk and picked up my mug to wet my dry mouth. The tea was cold now, tasting more like hay than mint. Outside, twilight filled the sky with soft but chilly shades of pink. Another gust knocked ice and small branches from the trees. A snowplow rolled up to the three-way stop out on Sherman Street, its bright yellow lights flashing through the front plate windows and bouncing off the whiteboards.

  Dropping onto my hands and knees, I reached under my desk for my cell phone. On the way back up, I bonked the back of my head on the underside of my desk. Cursing, I returned to my chair and stared down at the screen.

  I pulled up Natalie’s number. My thumb hovered over the screen, but then I glanced up at the video camera again. Calling Natalie for details on last night would have to wait until I got home. I didn’t need Cornelius listening in via the fancy microphones he had stashed all over the office. Cooper would shoot me for sure if he found out Cornelius had the inside scoop on any of his makeout stakeouts.

  I glanced back at Jerry’s door again. Should I text Cornelius about it closing on its own? Check if he saw anything in Jerry’s office before the door slammed shut?

  After mulling it over, I looked up at the camera in the corner again and decided not to text him. Cornelius would have let me know if he’d seen anything in Jerry’s office or picked up anything strange on one of his expensive ghost-monitoring devices.

  Sitting back, I tapped my knuckles on the desk. It had to be the wind. Those old windows in Jerry’s office weren’t the most efficient. If I went in there, I’d probably hear them whistling away.

  After shifting in my chair several times, I pushed up and out of it and walked over to the coffee station. I started tidying the area around it, thinking about our return to Aunt Zoe’s house after leaving Prudence’s …

  We’d dropped off Harvey at Doc’s house on our way back. He was feeling a bit stuffed and sleepy after all of those honeybuns. No surprise there. That was a lot of sugar in one sitting. The carb fallout would be zombifying. If I’d eaten as much as he had, I would’ve gone home and face-planted onto my pillow for a few hours.

  Natalie had met us at the front door, taken one look at my face, and then motioned for Doc and me to follow her out to Aunt Zoe’s workshop. Once there, I’d filled in my aunt and her on what we’d learned about the mirror, which was still in the back of my Honda even now.

  Aunt Zoe had been particularly interested in what Doc had “seen” while he was under and picked his brain for details. I’d already heard some of his story when he’d given Cooper a quick rundown before the detective headed back to work with Cornelius in tow. I sat on Aunt Zoe’s worktable and listened as Doc shared his adventure into the looking glass—or should I say on the other side of it.

  Prudence had been more friendly with him this time, allowing him to sink “under” instead of practically running him over in her haste to communicate—if that’s what she was doing with Doc back before Zelda came and provided a clear channel for her. Actually, I thought of it more as a spine-chilling possession with the way she’d bombarded Doc in the past and held him prisoner.

  Anyway, Doc had shared how he’d been able to see into the thoughts of whoever was peering over my shoulder into the mirror, but only information relating to whatever Prudence had requested. For Cooper, that meant seeing the ghost that had been in the courthouse basement this morning. For Harvey, it was some sort of R-rated scene involving some impressive acrobatics on Harvey’s part and two painted ladies—and by that he meant actually coated in a silver paint—that still made Doc’s cheeks a shade pinker than normal.

  As for Cornelius, it had been a chaotic scene visible through a crack in a door. Doc had described it as some sort of frenzied demonic rave—those were his words, not mine. When I asked him what the entities behind that door looked like, he grimaced and told me it would take some time to make sense of what he’d seen in there, adding that a single peek had scared the hell out of him. Cornelius had apparently been exposed to some dark shit in his past.

  When Doc had finished, Aunt Zoe asked if he felt that the mirror could be used to help me with the lidérc.

  His face lined again. “Maybe, but there were other entities in the mirror with me.”

  I shivered at that idea. “Did you see any?”

  He shook his head. “I felt them.”

  “Were they able to actually touch you?” Natalie asked.

  “No,” he told her, scratching the back of his neck. “I think Prudence was shielding me somehow, but I could feel slight variations in temperature as they came and went.” His gaze shifted to me. “And I could smell them.”

  Of course. He was a bloodhound, after all. “How many?”

  “I think I counted six. I could sense their agita
tion, making the air feel electrified.”

  Aunt Zoe and I shared troubled glances.

  “So, it’s a well-used mirror, apparently,” Natalie said. She shuddered and rubbed her upper arms. “Sort of creepy, considering how many times I’ve looked in that mirror.”

  “You can’t really see out,” Doc told her. “At least I couldn’t until Violet opened the channel. Then I could see her and whoever was looking in with her. Their thoughts came as flashes of images in my head.”

  “Jeez, Doc.” Natalie’s frown looked worried. “That’s trippy.”

  He shrugged. “Just another day on the job.”

  “Maybe, but I’ll stick to fixing shit and kicking ass.”

  I chuckled. “Kick Cooper’s ass while you’re at it, would you?”

  “For you, babe, I’d wear my pointy-toed witch shoes.”

  She was full of it, but I played along. “I think Cooper would like that.”

  “I hope so.” She scrubbed her hands together. “I have some particularly naughty spells saved up for him.”

  Aunt Zoe laughed at the face I made. “Speaking of Coop, where is he?”

  “He took Cornelius back to Calamity Jane’s and then he needed to head into work,” Doc answered, sitting on the work table next to me while inspecting one of Aunt Zoe’s squished tree pieces.

  “Good,” Natalie said.

  “Why is that good?” I’d have thought she’d be upset about Cooper’s work being a priority, same as it had been before when he’d chosen it over her.

  “Because you and I are going to go spy on Hawke.”

  We were? “I have to go into work in a bit.”

  “That’s no good. Call in sick.”

  “I can’t. Why are you wanting to spy on Hawke?”

  “Because he’s off work this morning and I suspect he’s meeting up with Tiffany again.”

  “What makes you think that?” Aunt Zoe asked.

  “I heard him insinuate it through the register.”

  Ah-ha. Natalie was back to playing Sherlock Holmes. Hawke better watch out. “Did he say Tiffany’s name explicitly?”

  “No, but he did say Ray’s name and hinted about a previous liaison between him and the person on the other end of the line.”

  Doc set the glass tree on the worktable. “Where are you going to spy on Hawke this time?”

  “They are meeting at Bighorn Billy’s.”

  I harrumphed. “That doesn’t seem like a very clandestine place.”

  The sight of Elvis the chicken strutting out from the back room where Aunt Zoe kept a bunch of her supplies and the couch she slept on during long work nights made me do a double take. “What’s Elvis doing out here?”

  “She’s been cooped up long enough.” Aunt Zoe held her fingers out while she made soft clucking sounds. Elvis ran toward her, clucking back after Aunt Zoe picked her up. “I told Addy she could let Elvis hang out with me for the day. Besides, I can use the company. All of this work has me a little stir crazy.”

  “If you’re looking for friendship from a chicken, I’d say you’re more than a little crazy.” I thought of someone else who would be happy to keep her company. He didn’t come with feathers, though, but I had a feeling his sexy blue eyes and deep voice would do just as well, if not better.

  “How much longer until you’re finished with this order?” Doc asked.

  “At this rate, a few more days.”

  He nodded. “Then what?”

  “Then I sleep for a week.”

  “Alone?” I teased.

  “Violet Lynn, you need to stop playing Cupid.”

  Thinking back on the conversation, I grinned. I couldn’t stop. I liked Reid too much to give up. Besides, if I could figure out how to catch the damned lidérc and fulfill this stupid deal with Dominick, the path would be clear for Reid to make his big move. Then maybe Aunt Zoe would finally relent and …

  The bells over Calamity Jane’s front door jingled, snapping me out of my match-making plans.

  I looked around. The sight of Rex crossing the threshold made my jaw drop. “What are you doing here?” I blurted out, not even trying to be cordial.

  He closed the door and leaned against it. His eyes seemed darker than usual, but maybe that was the black coat and scarf he was wearing. “That is no way to greet your lover.”

  My lover? When I picked my jaw up off the floor, I pointed at the door he was leaning against. “I’m not in the mood to deal with you today, Rex, so slink back to whatever slime pit you call home-sweet-home these days.”

  He reached behind him and locked the deadbolt.

  Well, shit. This night might end with another broken nose. I sure hoped Cooper would be willing to hear my side of the story before he tossed me in jail for assault. I moved to my desk, pocketing my phone, and grabbed my trusty stapler. Damn, I wished I’d brought my mace with me to work today.

  “What are you doing, Rex?” His allergies, along with the hives and red drippy eyes, appeared to have cleared.

  He took a couple of steps toward me, his smile oily. “You were my favorite concubine, Violet.” There was definitely something different about his eyes. They were too dark for being in a room with this much light. “Your hair captured my heart that first day I saw you sitting in the Quad at college. It glowed like spun gold in the sunlight.”

  What was he talking about? He didn’t have a heart.

  I clapped the stapler in my hand, letting him know how I felt about his skin-crawling attempts to woo me this evening. “We met in the class you were teaching, Rex, not in the Quad. You’re getting your history mixed up.”

  “That is not true. I saw you weeks before class started. You were sitting on a bench with your friends. It was a warm autumn day and you were wearing a blue sundress covered in daisies that made your skin look positively creamy.”

  I remembered that sundress, but not him.

  He came closer. “I wanted to drip strawberry juice over your flesh and lick it clean.”

  My gut tightened. The cramp had little to do with his sickening attempts at seducing me.

  Cooper’s words from yesterday replayed in my thoughts: His eyes seemed darker. Dilated maybe. Makes me wonder if he’s on something.

  There was definitely something off about Rex, and not only his eyes. It was in the way he moved, too. His usual confident stride had been replaced by a swaying sort of stroll that made it look like his joints were looser in their sockets.

  Now that I thought about yesterday, it was after Rex had come and gone that the lidérc had led me on a merry race through the Hellhole and into its trap under the courthouse.

  He took another step closer, and a wave of nausea rolled over me.

  Shizzlesticks. Rex had brought me some devilish company once again. Dominick had been right. This smoky son of a bitch wasn’t wasting any time hunting me down.

  The sharp smell of whiteboard markers made me sniff several more times. Why was I smelling that? I heard a squeak coming from the other side of the room.

  Rex looked in that direction, his body stiffening.

  I followed his gaze. Two words were scrawled across one of the whiteboards where there was no writing before: NOT ALONE!

  Movement near the end of the hallway drew my eye. I turned and my breath caught.

  Jane, my old boss, stood staring at me.

  Partially transparent, she was wearing one of her favorite striped sweaters, a red scarf, and black pants. While I gaped at her, soaking up the sight of her, she pointed at the words she’d written, and then her finger aimed at Rex.

  “Yeah, I just figured that out myself, Jane,” I told her. I glanced up at the camera with its steady red light. “You seeing this, Cornelius?” My fingers were crossed that he was indeed watching and already calling the posse to get their asses here with my mirror.

  “You are not needed this time,” Rex the lidérc told Jane. “Run along now.”

  She wiggled her finger for me to follow and then faded away completely.
>
  Where’d she go? How was I supposed to follow her if I couldn’t see her?

  “Jane?” I called, keeping my eyes on Rex, who was angling toward me. “I can’t follow you there.”

  Rex shifted closer, his arms held wide as if waiting for me to run into his embrace. Tiny sparks of fire drifted from the tips of his fingers. His black eyes drew my gaze. Something mesmerizing glittered in their depths, tugging at me to step closer, look deeper. “Come to me, Violet. I can make this quick.”

  He was blocking the path out the front door, leaving me only one other way out. I stepped back from my desk, keeping it as a barrier between us. “Stay right where you are, asshole.” I held up the stapler, trying my best to look threatening. Christ, I needed my mace.

  His laughter was richer, more velvety than Rex’s usual tone. Something about the lidérc reminded me of Dominick—maybe it was the same slick charm they both used to lure their victims.

  “You are an unworthy adversary without your war hammer, Scharfrichter,” he said.

  “Don’t count your ducks lucky, devil.” I threw out one of Addy’s favorite mixed metaphors, trying to distract it with words rather than weapons.

  Rex paused, his head tilting slightly. “Fate plays no part in what I have planned for you.”

  “Why are you coming for me instead of Masterson? He’s the one who held you captive for years.”

  “You are in the way.”

  I inched closer to the hallway. If I could just make it out the back door and to my SUV, I could grab the mirror and see if I could catch it somehow on my own. “In the way of what?” Or should I say of whom?

  “We have plans for greatness the likes of which you have never witnessed.”

  What was this “we” business? Was Dominick involved?

  “What makes you think I don’t want to join with you in this greatness endeavor?” I eased another step toward the back door.

  One of Rex’s blond eyebrows arched. “It is not in your nature. Your kind have only one goal in mind.”

  I took another step, almost to the hallway. “And what is that?”

  He shrugged. “To slay without prejudice.”

  “I beg to differ. I’m partial to some more than others.”