Gone Haunting in Deadwood (A Deadwood Mystery Book 9)

by Ann Charles

  My cell phone rang as I keyed my Honda to life. I stared down at Eddie Mudder’s name, my heart skipping a couple of beats. Oh, crap.

  I accepted the call. “Please tell me Mr. Haskell is still chilling in the morgue,” I said in place of a greeting.

  Eddie chuckled. “Mr. Haskell is actually in my basement getting prepped for a viewing this evening.”

  “I thought you were going to keep the casket closed thanks to that missing ear.”

  “I attached a fake one for now.”

  Really? “You can do that?”

  “I can do a lot of things with dead bodies, Violet.”

  An awkward pause filled the line.

  Eddie cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  I chuckled in relief. “You had me a little nervous there for a moment, Eddie. What can I do for you today?”

  “I have a visitor here who is requesting your presence.”

  “Is the visitor alive or dead?” I joked but was kind of serious.

  “I believe he’s alive, but I’d have to search for a heart to be sure, and I wouldn’t assume the organ is where mine is located.”

  Were we talking about Cooper? Or had Detective Hawke returned to Deadwood to resume pestering me, his favorite number one suspect? “Intriguing. Who’s come calling for me at a funeral parlor?”

  “Mr. Black.”

  Another pause, this time inspired by my surprise. “Mr. Black is at your place looking for me?”

  “He’s actually waiting out behind the morgue for you. I hope you’re nearby. He makes my hands shaky, and I need steady hands while working on Mr. Haskell. The poor man has had enough post-death trauma already.”

  “I’ll be there in under five minutes,” I told Eddie.

  “Great. Head straight back to the garage. I’ll leave you two to your business.”

  After he hung up, I pulled out of the lot and dialed Mona’s desk phone, leaving her a voicemail about Jerry’s absence this afternoon, claiming I had to make a side trip before returning to work.

  True to my word, I pulled around the back of Mudder Brothers Funeral Parlor not quite five minutes later, cutting the engine. Mr. Black stood half-hidden in the trees off to the side of the building, his long white coat and pale skin blending in with the snow. He stepped into the sunshine as I approached, his expression grim, and held open the door to the morgue.

  “Do we have to talk in there?” I asked.

  “I cannot risk being seen with you, Scharfrichter.”

  Dang. I led the way into the morgue, stopping inside the doorway. If he wanted to hang out in the dead body cooler, that was too damned bad. This was as far as I was going.

  “What’s going on?” I asked the pale-faced juggernaut. “Do you have another clock for me?”

  “Nein.” He leaned against the door, his huge body blocking my escape. “I have a task for you.”

  “A task?” Was this going to become a thing? Others hiring me to clean up their messes?

  “Ja. You must go to Slagton.”

  “I was planning to head back there later this week.”

  “You must go now.”

  “You mean right this moment?”

  “Ja.”

  “I can’t.”

  “You must.”

  “It’s not possible.”

  He raised his thick white eyebrows.

  “I need to go back to work.” That came out sounding pretty lame.

  He scoffed, confirming the trivialness of my excuse. “This is far more important than you realize.”

  “Why do I have to go right now?”

  “I received word this morning that a battle is about to erupt. That territory in the Black Hills has remained neutral for centuries. As of late, however, there have been several factions striving for control.”

  “What’s that have to do with me?”

  “You have slain multiple enemies in broad daylight for all to witness.”

  “None of those killings were my fault.” Okay, maybe they were a little bit my fault, but they’d started it.

  “That is no matter. You have shown you are a competitor in the battle for leadership in Slagton. You must finish the job. Establish control.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Control will fall into dangerous hands. This cannot happen. Der Scharfrichter must intercede to ensure neutrality is maintained.”

  I crossed my arms. “Let me get this straight. I need to go back to Slagton and do what exactly? Stand in the middle of the road and declare I’m the new queen?”

  “That is one option, but I do not recommend it. Your demise would quickly follow. I would suggest a more subtle approach.”

  “Such as?”

  “Executing the opposing leader.”

  “But the Wild Hunt clock hasn’t started yet.”

  “Are you certain?”

  I was until a second ago. “Maybe.”

  “You must leave at once. It is time.”

  I froze at the sound of the three words that had been whispered in my ear first thing this morning. “What did you say?”

  “It is time. You must go now. We cannot risk delay.”

  “Are you coming with me?”

  “Nein. If I am seen with you, the truth about my allegiance would be discovered.”

  The truth? “What are you? Some kind of double agent?”

  “I am a Timekeeper.”

  “What else are you?”

  His dark eyes narrowed. “There is no time for discussion. Go to Slagton and finish what you started. Many are there who need you to save them from a fate far darker than you can imagine.”

  Crappity crap. I wasn’t dressed for another trip to Slagton, nor was I prepared mentally for that shit. “Fine. I’ll go.” But I’d need to go home and change first, and then gather the troops.

  “Excellent. Here,” he held his hand out.

  I opened my palm, frowning at what he dropped into my hand. One end was shaped like a heart, the other a small tube. “What is this?”

  “A key.”

  “Will it open a gateway to another realm?”

  A smile flitted over Mr. Black’s face. “Nein. It is for the first clock I gave you. I forgot to give you the key.”

  “I didn’t think these clocks could be wound.”

  “They can’t. This key is for accessing the inner compartment.”

  “What’s inside the inner compartment?”

  “You must use the key to find out. It is unique to each Timekeeper.”

  I pocketed the key. “Do you have any advice for Slagton?”

  “Ja. Try not to die.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  One white eyebrow inched upward. “I detect sarcasm.”

  “You think?”

  “What could I possibly have to say to a Scharfrichter prior to battle? I am not of your kind.”

  “I don’t know. You’re hundreds of years old. Don’t you have some words of wisdom stored in your big ancient brain?”

  He tapped his pale chin, his face wrinkling in thought. “Ja.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  “You are capable.”

  Sheesh! That’s it? “Did you get that off one of those motivational posters with a kitten on it?”

  “Nein.” His lips curved upward. “There was no kitten. I believe it had a chimpanzee wearing a tie and reading glasses.”

  Cursing, I started to leave.

  “Scharfrichter,” Mr. Black called when I opened the door.

  I looked back. His expression was downright gloomy. “What?”

  “Take das Orakel with you. He will be able to see when all is dark.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Step One—Rally the Troops

  I called Doc on the short drive back to work, putting him on speakerphone as I pulled into the parking lot behind Calamity Jane’s.

  “Hey, Tish.”

  “I need you,” I said as I parked near the back door. The Picklemobile sat i
n its normal parking spot.

  “A man likes to be needed. What kind of need are we talking about and what are you wearing?” He reverted to our usual flirting game. “More important, what are you not wearing?”

  I would love to sneak over to his office and hand him my underwear in a paper bag again, but I had sharp teeth to face off with in Slagton ASAP. “I have a problem.”

  “I do, too, after thinking about you in nothing but that blue coat and your boots.”

  “Hold that thought,” I told him, stepping out of my Honda into the cold breeze. “And let me talk to the Oracle.”

  Silence filled the line as he switched gears. “What’s wrong?” All flirting was gone from his tone.

  “I just met with Mr. Black in Mudder Brothers’ morgue. It seems I have to make an emergency trip to Slagton.”

  “What’s the emergency?”

  “Oh, nothing much.” I shut my door. “Just a tiny turf war taking place this afternoon that will cause unspeakable doom if I don’t slay the opposing leader and declare myself the queen of Slagton.”

  “What?” His chair creaked. “Did you drink tequila at work?”

  “I wish.” I crossed the slushy lot, heading for Calamity Jane’s back door. “I need to stop by the office, then I’m going to Aunt Zoe’s to change into battle gear. Can you cancel any afternoon appointments?”

  “I have none.”

  “You want to join me for a fun-filled, hunting trip to Slagton?”

  “Lead the way, Killer. Pick me up at my house after you change.”

  “We need Cooper and Harvey.”

  “On it.” I heard the sound of papers shuffling. “Don’t forget your war hammer.”

  “I won’t. See you soon.” After hanging up, I stepped inside Calamity Jane’s, not bothering to take off my coat. What I needed to do would only take a minute.

  I followed the sweet scent of Mona’s jasmine perfume to the front office where she was clacking away at her desk while Ben stared at something on his computer screen. Both of them looked up when I walked into the room. I clasped my hands together.

  It is time, I heard in my head.

  “I have to leave for the day,” I announced.

  Ben leaned back in his chair. “Is everything okay?”

  It would be so easy to lie. I glanced over at Ray’s empty desk, steeling my resolve. Mona and Ben had stepped up to help me multiple times. They deserved honesty in return. “Not really.”

  “Vi, what’s going on?” Mona took off her reading glasses.

  I frowned at my good friend and mentor. “I have a problem I need to take care of out of town this afternoon. I need you two to cover for me if Jerry calls in to check on the office.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to confront Ray,” she said, rising.

  “This has nothing to do with him.”

  “What do you want us to tell Jerry if he calls?” Ben asked, apparently already on board.

  “Tell him that Detective Cooper and I are out looking at some properties.” At their narrowed gazes, I added, “That’s not a lie. I will be with Cooper the whole time.”

  Mona crossed her arms. “Is this police business? The kind that ends with you behind bars again?”

  “No. I have a problem that Cooper is going to help me fix. Doc will be there, too,” I hinted to her.

  Understanding widened her eyes for a moment, and then she nodded once. “We have your back.”

  “Thank you.” I pointed at Ray’s desk. “I realize that I played a part in pushing Ray over the edge. While I’m not sorry for standing my ground in the face of his harassment, I am sorry that you two have to help make up for the loss of his financial contributions. I owe you both for your support throughout this ordeal.”

  “We’re a team.” Ben smiled. “We’ll get through this together.”

  Mona lowered back into her chair. “Be careful, Vi.”

  “Will we see you tomorrow?” Ben asked.

  “I hope so.” I said my good-byes and left before I blubbered all over them for being such wonderful friends through thick and thin.

  My phone rang halfway to my Honda. It was my clock-watching buddy, Abe Jr.

  I took the call. “I’m a little busy, Cornelius.”

  “Do you want that trident?” he shot back.

  I slowed, trying to remember what trident he meant. Oh! Layne’s Christmas present request. “I’m not sure.”

  In the background, I heard a familiar sound that made me freeze in my tracks. I did an about-face, staring up at the building’s second-story windows.

  “Let me know soon. The seller will need to ship it overnight.”

  “Cornelius, do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “That cuckooing sound?”

  “Is this a trick question?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Currently?”

  I growled. “Yes.”

  “The planet Earth.”

  Sometimes I doubted that. “Are you in the apartment above Calamity Jane’s?”

  “Not if the CIA has contacted you recently.”

  I was taking that as a yes. “I’ll be at your door in ten seconds. Get dressed.” I hung up and jogged to the door leading to the upstairs apartment, climbing the steps two at a time.

  Cornelius opened the door before I even knocked. “You’re late.”

  I rushed past him, following the cuckooing sound into his small kitchen. The clock boxes sat on the table, both lids off.

  “Shit,” I said, staring at the one depicting the Wild Hunt. How had Mr. Black known? Could he hear the cuckooing clear over at Mudder Brothers? Or had something else alerted the Timekeeper?

  “What is it?” Cornelius joined me.

  “This one is cuckooing.” I pointed at it.

  He leaned closer. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Why aren’t your arms moving yet?” I asked the clock.

  Was the leader of the pack stuck at the gate? Unable to get through? Or was the hunter hesitating for some reason?

  “How would you like me to make my arms move?”

  I looked up at my channeling buddy. “You’re dressed.”

  “For the time being.”

  “Grab your coat and one-horned Viking helmet.” I picked up the box’s wooden lid.

  Cornelius raised one black eyebrow. “Am I going somewhere?”

  “Yes.” I closed up the box, muffling the cuckooing sound.

  His cornflower blue eyes held mine. “Will I need clean underwear?”

  I thought about the chimeras’ sharp teeth. “Definitely.”

  * * *

  Step Two—Gear Up

  “What to wear? What to wear?” I chanted while standing in front of my closet.

  What did one wear to battle if no armor or chain mail was available? I needed something that wouldn’t hamper me if I were swinging my war hammer … or fleeing for my life. Whatever I chose would likely end up in the garbage when—or if—I made it back to Deadwood.

  In the end, I went for comfort, choosing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve thermal shirt.

  I grabbed my war hammer and a foot-long tapered candle, along with a spare set of clothes, and headed downstairs where I’d left Cornelius with Aunt Zoe.

  Only Aunt Zoe was missing when I entered the kitchen. I set the bag of clothes and war hammer on the table next to Cornelius, who was enjoying a molasses cookie.

  “You should eat some protein,” Cornelius said, seeming to channel my aunt. “You’ll need your strength from the sounds of it.”

  I’d talked fast on the way to Aunt Zoe’s, explaining the situation into which I was about to drag him, filling him in on recent events in Slagton and my conversations with Mr. Black about the clocks. To his credit, he did not leap from the SUV and make a run for the hills. Instead, he stroked his goatee and suggested I bring a candle and matches along with us, which reminded me that I needed to grab a lighter from the kitchen junk drawer. I hadn’t asked why I sh
ould bring a candle, merely nodded and told him to explain what was going on to my aunt while I changed.

  “Where’s Aunt Zoe?” I stuffed the lighter in my pants and then walked to the refrigerator, grabbing the last piece of ham steak. The bottle of tequila on top of the fridge called to me, but I resisted. I’d need my brain crystal clear for what I was about to do.

  “She exited stage left.”

  “Yours or mine?”

  He pointed a cookie at the back door. “You are not to leave until she returns.”

  “You want some ham?” I held out a forkful toward him.

  He shook his head. “I don’t eat swine before a performance.”

  But cookies appeared to be okey dokey.

  I chowed down the ham, chasing it with a glass of water. Aunt Zoe arrived as I finished off the last bite.

  “Here,” she said, handing me a silver ring and a small sachet tied with gold floss.

  “What are these?” I held the ring closer, trying to make sense of the design carved into the flat oval face of it. “Are these entwined letters?”

  “It’s a symbol. Or rather a crest, if you will.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Scharfrichter. It’s on several of the pages of our family history book, which you’d know if you’d bothered to read it when I told you to.” She took the ring from me and slid it on my right middle finger. It fit like it was made for me. “This ring has been passed down through our line over the ages from one executioner to another.”

  “Why didn’t you give it to me before? Did I have to prove myself to you as some kind of certifiable killer?”

  “No, I couldn’t find it. Turns out it had slipped into a pocket in the trunk where I keep our family heirlooms.”

  I held the ring up in the light from the window. “What will it do?”

  “It won’t do anything, but you will while wearing it.”

  That earned a scowl from me. “Don’t you go turning cryptic on me, Aunt Zoe. I have enough trouble figuring out what Prudence and Mr. Black mean most days.”

  “I have several suspicions about what wearing this ring will do for you, but you’ll have to test it out first to confirm them. Is that better?”

  “Not at all.” I held up the sachet, which was about the size of a tea bag. It smelled like tea, too, only with a musky undertone that made me wince. “What about this?”