by Ann Charles
He glanced sideways at me, the rough edges on his face looking like he was the one who’d been dueling with Lila and her collection of sharp objects all night instead of me. “The scars come with the job.”
“I hope you got paid a bonus for each one.” I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, second in line for caffeine.
He focused back on the coffee maker.
The hiss and sigh as the coffee brewed filled the room as we waited.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked, snuggling into my sweater.
He shook his head. “I keep my house in the low 60s.”
Of course he did. My hazy morning brain had forgotten he was half-machine.
The coffee maker hissed and sighed some more.
“What was the nightmare about?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Lila.”
“You screamed because?”
“Two men wearing potato sacks with cutout eyes held me down while Lila sliced my neck.” The nightmare was a real-life blend of Prudence’s death scene and my experiences in the Carhart house months ago.
“Damn. You have these sort of dreams often?”
“Often enough ever since Wolfgang Hessler’s tea party. I think waking up in that room with those poor girls cracked my brain.”
“You mean cracked it wider.”
“Careful, Cooper. Word on the street is that you’re seeing ghosts. That’s not exactly sane behavior.”
He snorted.
Hiss. Sigh.
I stared out the kitchen window into the dark backyard. The weatherman was calling for snow flurries this afternoon. I wondered if Cooper would be going to Doc’s tonight for their weekly poker game, leaving me alone.
“I don’t know how Nyce does it,” Cooper said.
“Does what?”
“Puts up with you and that crazy hair.” He dodged my jab, a rare grin making an appearance for a split second. “I meant how can he talk about finances and retirement portfolios one minute and fend off ghosts another?”
Last night, after Cooper made me promise to stay home with Natalie and keep my ass out of trouble, Doc had driven him up to the Golden Sluice bar in Lead. The idea was to give Cooper an opportunity to drown his ghost-spurred frustrations in whiskey at a location Doc was relatively certain was free of the wispy folks.
“For one thing,” I told him, “Doc’s been dealing with this shit since he was a kid, whereas you’re only a week or so into it.”
He smirked. “True.”
“For another, I’m not sure if you’ve caught on yet during the séances you’ve witnessed, but the man is a master of ceremonies when it comes to supernatural phenomena.” I didn’t bother adding my accolades for his mastery between the sheets, but paused for a few seconds to smile about it. “Doc has spent his life studying the paranormal world as well as living within it.”
“It’s fucked up.”
“I know.” I rubbed my eyes. “Without him around to explain what in the hell is going on, I’d be in a padded cell pulling my crazy hair out.” Cornelius wasn’t helping the matter either, which reminded me that I needed to tell Doc about that hole in the floor under Calamity Jane’s.
“I felt like I was steering in that direction until I blew off some steam last night.”
Hiss. Sigh. A gurgle followed, the brewing process wrapping up.
I crossed my arms, leaning my hip against the counter. “How late were you two out?”
“Nyce dropped me off after midnight.”
I looked at Aunt Zoe’s Betty Boop clock. No wonder Cooper’s eyes were red-rimmed. It wasn’t quite five.
“Did Doc help?” I hope he planned on mentoring Cooper. The idea of Cooper with a screw loose and a house full of guns made me cringe.
“He fed me drinks until I couldn’t see straight and then drove me back here.”
That was one of my favorite ways of taking off an edge. “You should go back to bed.”
“So should you.”
I looked down at my hands. “I’m afraid I’ll dream again.”
“Maybe you should pull that tequila bottle down from above the refrigerator and try Nyce’s remedy.”
“I’d rather spend several hours alone in his company, but I doubt you’ll allow that until Ms. Wolff’s killer is found.”
The coffee maker beeped.
Cooper filled my cup and then his. I moved to the table, dropping into a chair. “So, what’s next?” I nodded when he held out the milk with raised brows.
“You go to work and find me a house while I go to work and find us a killer.” He poured milk in my cup and then his, returning the jug to the fridge.
I circled the rim of my coffee mug with my finger, my lips pursed as I debated my situation. I could search on my own for Ms. Wolff’s killer and risk getting caught by Hawke, or I could do what I know Doc would want me to do and come clean here and now.
Doc won.
“Yeah,” I said, “about that.” I looked up to where he still stood at the counter.
He stared at me over his coffee cup, his eyes narrowing at whatever he saw on my face.
“I’m going to try to find Ms. Wolff’s killer,” I said.
“No.”
“I’m not asking for your permission.”
He lowered his cup. “Don’t be an idiot.”
I didn’t say anything.
“You’re going to get yourself in even deeper shit.”
I circled the rim of my cup again with my finger.
“Christ, Parker. You don’t know the first thing about detective work.”
“Then teach me.”
“I’m not a teacher.”
I lifted my mug. “With or without your help, Cooper.”
“Don’t make me throw you in jail again.”
“You gave me your word you wouldn’t threaten me with that.”
He cursed, crossing over to the table. He took the seat next to me for some reason, probably planning to intimidate me with his big shoulders and multitude of scars. I sat up straighter, bracing myself for battle.
“Don’t you get it, Parker? If you start messing around with Ms. Wolff’s apartment, you’re going to look even more guilty, like you’re trying to hide something from the police.”
“I’m not going to sit here and wait for those test results to come back. If it is my hair, it was planted there by one of your officer buddies. I need to figure out who is behind this. I need to know if the reason Ms. Wolff was killed was only to set me up for a fall, or if there is something bigger going on that I need to prepare for up here.” I pointed at my temple.
“Jesus. I don’t know who’s worse—Nyce or you.”
“What did Doc do?”
“He offered me a deal—he’ll teach me how to block out ghosts in exchange for my help.”
“Your help with what?”
“Getting him inside that apartment again so that he can try to save your ass.”
I grimaced, even though it warmed the cockles of my heart that Doc was trying to save me. “We can’t let Doc go under again in there. Cornelius was sure we’d lost him the last time. There’s something in that apartment that’s the equivalent of a revolving door. Sometimes the door stops revolving, leaving you stuck on the wrong side.”
“I don’t want either of you back in that place. Like I said before, it’s too hot. If either of you are caught in there, Hawke will press charges and probably keep you under lock and key for as long as he can. The same goes for Natalie now.”
“What about Natalie?” a voice said from the dining room.
The woman in question shuffled into the room, her eyes half-closed with sleep. Massaging her lower back, she went straight to the coffee maker. “Why are you two up so damned early?”
“I had a nightmare.”
“Oh, man. You didn’t pull your wake-up-screaming routine again, did you?” She poured herself a cup of coffee, spilling a little in her sleepy state.
“Guilty. Addy got Cooper to com
e and give me hell because I wouldn’t wake up.”
I glanced over at Cooper. He was too engrossed in the sight of Natalie’s butt in yoga pants to participate in the conversation, let alone lower his cup back to the table. When she turned around, coffee in hand, Cooper’s eyes widened. His flinch made me look over at Nat again.
Ohhhhhh. No wonder Cooper had checked out of the conversation. In her half-asleep state, Natalie hadn’t remembered to throw on a bra under her pink thermal shirt. She walked over to the fridge, still blinking awake, and leaned over to grab the milk.
Poor Cooper was a goner. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to be caught with his tongue hanging out.
I nudged his arm, trying to get him to come back from whatever wet dream was probably playing in his head.
Milk in hand, Natalie walked over to the counter. She set the jug down and paused to rub her back. It must be bothering her after a night on the couch. Her profile shot included a slice of bare midriff when she raised her arms to the ceiling and arched her back for a deeper stretch.
Cooper sucked air between his teeth.
I poked him in the ribs hard enough to make him spill his coffee onto his hand.
“Damn it, Parker.” He growled at me, wiping his hand off on his sweatpants as Natalie dumped milk into her cup.
“Oops,” I lied when he glared at me.
Nat returned to the fridge, giving me a few seconds to scowl at Cooper, point at Natalie and then him, and then mimic slicing my throat. That gesture reminded me of my nightmare and made me scowl even more.
“What’s with that face?” Natalie asked, dropping onto the chair next to me.
“I was thinking about what Cooper said before you joined us.”
She glanced over at Cooper, and then did a double take. Her eyes lingered south of his stubble-covered chin. “Damn, Coop. Did someone use you for target practice?”
“Scars come with his job,” I told her.
“I hope the chief at least offered to kiss them better.”
Cooper stood and left the room, returning seconds later wearing the red flannel jacket Doc kept here. “Sorry about that,” he said, lowering back into his chair. “I’m not used to sleeping with women.”
Natalie’s eyebrows rose. A grin played at the corners of her mouth. “And here I’d figured you for a regular playboy with a different woman hanging on your arm each night.”
He shrugged off her teasing. “Women don’t usually like cops. We keep shitty hours.”
“True, but you probably make them feel safe when they’re in your bed.”
“Safe?” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his steely eyes locking onto hers. “Safe is the last thing I want a woman to feel when she’s in my bed.”
Wow! That was a good one. I would have clapped had I not been stuck playing monkey in the middle.
The tension in the room cranked up several notches.
I glanced at Natalie to see if he’d hit the mark. From her slightly parted lips and flushed face, I’d say it was a bull’s-eye. She shook her head slightly, then chuckled and made a show of fanning herself. “Whew, Coop! You need to take it easy on us poor local girls. We can only swoon so much before we keel over from a broken heart.”
He took a swallow of coffee, his eyes still eating her up. “Have you looked in a mirror this morning, Beals?”
“No, why? Do I have something on my face?”
I looked back and forth between them. This was the shit I was talking about when I’d warned him last night. Here was his opportunity. He clearly had her attention. Now all he had to do was make his move.
He lowered his gaze, focusing on his coffee cup. I could practically feel the big chicken retreating.
“Yeah,” I answered her in his place, grinning. “A big fat nose.”
She flicked me on the shoulder.
“How did you sleep?” Cooper asked her, back to boring old questions now that the heat of the moment had cooled.
She rubbed her back again. “The couch is not my favorite place to crash in this house. I should have moved to the recliner, but I was too sleepy.”
“Next time you stay,” he said, “take Addy’s bed. I can sleep on the couch.”
Yawning, she shook her head. “I’ll just crawl in with Vi and make an Addy sandwich.”
“Better yet,” I said, “you two can have my bed and I’ll take the couch.” Maybe I could convince Doc to spend the night on the torture device with me if I offered to rub away his aches throughout the night.
A high-pitched, choking laugh came from Natalie. “I’m sure Coop doesn’t want to share a bed with me, Violet. I snore, remember?”
Cooper and her? She’d misunderstood what I was saying.
“Not to mention,” she continued, challenging Cooper with a glare. “He doesn’t sleep with local girls.”
Cooper stared right back. If she’d made a dent in his armor with that jab, he didn’t show it. “I believe Parker meant you and Addy could share her bed.”
“Oh.” Her face turned bright red. “Of course.” She hid behind her coffee cup.
Dear Lord, if this conversation grew any more squirmy, I’d slip right out of my chair. I scrambled for something to fill the awkward silence that had joined the three of us. “Hey, Nat. Cooper and I thought it might be a good idea for you to join us on our next house hunting trip.”
Both of them looked at me as if I’d sprouted a daisy from the middle of my forehead.
“Me?” Natalie asked. “I’m not looking for a house.”
“But you’re as good as having a home inspector with us. You can assess the structure and let Cooper know if it has any potential problems.”
Her gaze swung from me to Cooper. “What’s in it for me?”
I followed suit. “What’s in it for Natalie?”
Cooper’s forehead wrinkled. “What would you like, Beals?”
She sipped on her coffee, pondering his question. “How about a guided trip inside Ms. Wolff’s apartment for Violet, Doc, and me.”
“What about me?” Old man Harvey asked, joining us.
I gawked at him. “Where did you come from?”
“The stork.”
“I didn’t hear the front door.”
“The old biddies at the senior center don’t call me ‘mongoose’ fer shits and giggles.” He set a grocery bag on the table, pulling out a carton of eggs and setting them next to the stove. “Yer ex’s Jaguar is parked next door again.”
My shoulders tightened so fast my head nearly popped. “You’re kidding!”
There could only be one reason Rex Conner was shacking up with Aunt Zoe’s neighbor again, and it had nothing to do with Ms. Geary’s famous cherry tarts. That son of a bitch was spying on me and the kids again.
“It’s a natural-born fact.” Harvey grabbed a frying pan from the cupboard, setting it on the stove. “Beatrice must have taken him back. I’d go ask her to be sure, but my britches are ridin’ too high these days fer the likes of her.”
“I thought I saw movement across the street when I checked for the paper earlier,” Cooper said, taking his coffee cup to the sink. “What’s for breakfast?” he asked his uncle.
Harvey held up a package of bacon and a bag of English muffins. My stomach growled in spite of my angst about my ex’s fancy Jaguar.
“I need to put a restraining order on that asshole,” I grumbled.
“I’ll take care of Rex,” Natalie said, patting my hand.
Scowling, Cooper came over to the table, standing over Natalie. “You’re going to end up with a restraining order on you if he catches you near his car again.”
She lifted her chin. “He won’t catch me.”
He placed one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the table in front of her, leaning in close. “But I might,” he warned.
“You could try,” she taunted back. “But I’m not sure you’re that good.”
The air practically crackled from the electricity rippling betwe
en them again. Holy hotcakes! If they didn’t do something about this sexual tension soon, I was going to get zapped.
“We’ll see, Beals.” Cooper pulled back, looking as cool as an ice cube, and then turned to his uncle. “I’ll hop in the shower and help you with breakfast when I finish.” Without a backward glance, he strode from the room.
Natalie watched him go, her eyes burning holes into his backside. When her rubberneck snapped back to Harvey and me, we were both grinning at her.
“What?” she asked, dusting invisible crumbs from the table.
“How’s that there sabbatical workin’ out fer ya?” Harvey asked.
“It’s great.” She pointed her thumb at herself. “When it comes to men, I’ve got an iron backbone and steel ribs.”
He pointed a spatula at her chest. “It’s hard to see all of that iron and steel when yer headlights are shinin’ in my eyes.”
She glanced down, her cheeks paling one second and then flashing red the next. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Shit. I wasn’t thinking this morning.”
Harvey snort-cackled. “Nothin’ like hooters and coffee to git an old boy’s motor hummin’.” He gave me a once-over. “You got yers hidden under that sweater. Doc must’ve slept in his own bedroll.”
“Can it, old man, or I’ll crack those eggs on your skull.”
Snickering, he washed his hands and grabbed Aunt Zoe’s apron from the wall.
Cooper returned ten minutes later. I’d downed a second cup of coffee in the meantime, and sent Doc a text to see what he was up to today. Natalie had put on a bra and Aunt Zoe’s quilted red puffer vest, her chest doubly covered. Cooper glanced her way, but managed not to get his eyes stuck this time.
“Zoe said she’ll be down shortly.” Cooper moved over to the stove. “What do you want me to do?” he asked his uncle.
“Hold this.” Harvey handed him the spatula and hobbled out of the kitchen, returning seconds later with a familiar-looking manila envelope.
“What’s this?” Cooper frowned at the envelope that Harvey handed to him.
I barely held in my gasp as I realized what “this” was. Shit! What was Harvey doing, giving Cooper that right now? Shouldn’t we have discussed a game plan first? Made sure I was out of the room, at least?
