Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6)

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Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) Page 22

by Ann Charles


  The phone on the kitchen wall rang, breaking up the cookie wrestling match going on at the table. I waved Aunt Zoe back to her corner and answered it. “Hello?”

  “Parker.” It was a statement from Cooper, not a question.

  “Well, if it isn’t Little Miss Sunshine.” I covered the mouthpiece and told the three eyeballing me, “It’s Cooper.”

  I said, “To what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your melodious voice?”

  “Did you have pot brownies for dessert tonight, Parker?”

  “Nope. Your uncle made apple dumplings sans marijuana. But if you want to grab some joints from the evidence room for an after dinner toke …” I purposely let that comment trail off, not trusting Cooper to catch the jest in my voice about doing something illegal in his jurisdiction.

  “Real funny, Parker. You can practice your stand-up routine some more tomorrow at the morgue.”

  “I can what?”

  “You need to meet Detective Hawke and me at the Mudder Brothers morgue first thing in the morning.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were the last known witness to go in there the night Eddie and the body disappeared.”

  “But you already took my statement three times during breakfast at Doc’s.”

  “Detective Hawke has some new questions to ask you.”

  “Come on, Cooper. Can’t you help me with a get-out-of-jail-free card on this one?”

  “Nope, and if you don’t show up, I can guarantee Detective Hawke will come to your place of work with a warrant. He’s picked up your scent now, and there’s no shaking him.”

  “My scent?”

  “Yeah, like a hunting dog. Get it, Parker? Or do I need to draw you a picture with stick people?”

  I blew a raspberry in the mouthpiece. “Draw a picture of that, Coop.”

  “Your level of maturity astounds me some days. And it’s Detective Cooper to you.”

  I sighed. “Fine, what time do I have to be there?”

  “What time do you start work?”

  I didn’t have to be in super early since I had been on camera today, but Cooper didn’t need to know that. “Eight-thirty.” I padded the time so they’d think I had important work to get to right away in the morning and not drag out the interrogation any longer than necessary.

  “Be there at seven,” Cooper said. The line went dead.

  I hung up the phone and then flipped it off for good measure. “Harvey, someone needs to teach your nephew some phone etiquette.”

  “Give him a break. His mama fed him castor oil for constipation when he was just a babe.”

  What in the world did that have to do with him being a dick to me on the phone?

  “What was that about?” Doc asked, hanging the dish towel on the rack.

  I told all three of them about my appointment at the morgue first thing tomorrow. When I finished, Aunt Zoe’s frown matched the one lining Doc’s face. Harvey scratched at his beard, working Oreo cookie crumbs loose.

  Aunt Zoe was the first to speak. “Why can’t they ask you these questions at the station?”

  “Probably because Cooper knows the only way he’s going to get me inside that station is by dragging me in handcuffed and kicking.”

  “This here sounds like one of Hawke’s ideas, not Coop’s,” Harvey said. “I’d bet my left nut that dandy is trying to show off how big and red his rooster comb is in front of ya.”

  “He better be careful flashing his comb around,” I griped, “or I just might blast a hole through it with ol’ Bessie.”

  “Someone had better warn Cooper that you’ll be carrying tomorrow, Tiger.” Doc checked his watch. “I need to go. Walk me out?” he asked me.

  I nodded, following him into the dining room.

  Doc grabbed my sheepskin coat from the wall hanger and held it out for me.

  “Is it going to be a long goodbye?” I slipped my arms in the sleeves.

  “I need to talk to you alone for a moment.” His tone made anxiety flap its wings in my chest.

  He held the door, shutting it firmly behind us, and then led me past his car to the sidewalk.

  I shivered in the cold night air, buttoning my coat as we strolled along. “The frost is going to be thick in the morning.”

  He captured my hand, his palm warm. “They’re calling for a chance of snow later this week.”

  Weather talk, great. That was a sure sign that a thundercloud was coming my way.

  We walked along in silence for a few steps, the stars sparkling overhead in the cold mountain air. Our breath steamed around us. The scent of wood smoke mixed with pine trees, making me want to go home and snuggle under the covers with Doc beside me. I peeked at him out of the corner of my eye, noting the stiffness in his shoulders and gait that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  “Would you like me to go to the morgue with you in the morning?” he asked.

  Of course. “Thanks, but no. Cooper didn’t invite you, and I’d hate to cause any tension between you now that you’re roomies.”

  “If you change your mind, let me know. I’m happy to tag along and hold your hand so you don’t use it to punch Detective Hawke in the nose.”

  “Ah, how sweet.” I hugged his arm. “You know me so well.”

  The silence between us returned, worry filled on my part. Our footfalls on the sidewalk echoed in the quiet coldness. A car door slammed further down the road.

  Two houses away from Aunt Zoe’s place, I pulled him to a stop. “What’s wrong, Doc?”

  He looked up at the stars, and then his dark gaze locked on me. Under the orange streetlights, his eyes looked black. “I have something to show you.”

  “What?” Anticipation had me fidgeting with my coat buttons. It wasn’t like him to be apprehensive when we were alone. That was usually my song and dance.

  Pulling out his phone, he tapped the screen a couple of times and then held it out to me.

  I took it, frowning down at the glowing screen. Tiffany’s name was listed on the screen over and over. He reached out and made the screen scroll down. Tiffany’s name continued to fill the screen.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “My voicemails.”

  Then I noticed the timestamp on each call, some spaced every fifteen minutes, others every five minutes. “What the hell?”

  “You wondered yesterday why my voicemail was full,” he explained. “This is why.”

  Criminy, the bitch was persistent, I’d give her that. I looked up at him, my gut boiling. “Let me guess? She wants you back and is willing to do anything if you’ll kick me to the curb.”

  “I haven’t listened to them.”

  No way. “Not even one?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m not interested in hearing what she has to say.” He jammed his hands in his coat pockets, leaning back on his heels. “You’re welcome to listen to them, though.”

  My finger hovered over one of the more recent recordings, curiosity overflowing. What would Tiffany offer in exchange for his attention once again? For his touch? For another stay in his bed? I stared at her name until the letters blurred. How desperate was she? Did she offer to fulfill every single one of his sexual fantasies? Did she promise never to bring up marriage again? How pathetic and low would she go for him?

  I looked at him, meeting his shadowed gaze. What would I offer if I were in her shoes and Doc were no longer frequenting my doorstep? Would I beg? Would I cry? Or would I have too much self-respect to show any emotion? How strong was my pride when it came to losing the guy I’d fallen head-over-heels for? I hoped never to find out.

  Returning to the screen, I tapped the option to select all of the messages and deleted them in one fell swoop. “Here.” I handed his phone back.

  He glanced down at the screen, then back up at me. “You deleted them.”

  “That’s her business, not mine.”

  He nodded and stuffed the phone in his jacke
t.

  “But I will say that you have one psycho ex-girlfriend there. You’re going to have to deal with her at some point.”

  “I keep hoping she’ll just go away.”

  “The thing about ‘crazy’ is that it doesn’t ride away into the sunset. It just hides in the closet and keeps jumping out to scare the crap out of you when you least expect it.” I smiled without meaning it. “My sister taught me that.”

  “The bitch from hell?”

  “The one and only.”

  He pulled me close, kissing my forehead and then nuzzling my hair. “You smell like apple dumplings.”

  “You should see what I taste like.”

  Tipping my chin, he did just that, his tongue teasing mine. “You taste like apple dumplings, too.”

  “You should see what I feel like?”

  He chuckled low and sexy, his mouth hovering over mine. “Harvey’s right. You’re all heated up tonight.”

  Laughter bubbled up from my chest, ruining the moment. I stepped back, shaking my head. “Harvey is going to pay for embarrassing me in front of you and Aunt Zoe.”

  He put his arm around my shoulders and started leading me back toward Aunt Zoe’s. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like it when you’re in heat.”

  I elbowed him playfully.

  He kissed my temple, running his palm down over my backside as we strolled along, warming me from the bottom up.

  “Doc, do you remember when I showed you Lily Devine’s house?”

  “Was that the one with the blinding wallpaper in that one bedroom?”

  “Yeah. Remember how you didn’t like me standing down in the basement there?”

  “That’s right. There was a bad smell down there.”

  “But the story goes that Lily was killed in that wallpapered bedroom by her john, not the basement.”

  “Maybe she was. Maybe what I picked up wasn’t Lily.”

  Hmmm. I hadn’t thought of that. “The camerawoman on Dickie’s crew found two eyebolts embedded in the wall under the basement stairwell. She has a theory that Lily was chained under the stairs by her killer, possibly tortured before he finished the job.”

  Doc was quiet for a few steps. “Interesting. Disturbing if true, but interesting.”

  “You want to go find out?”

  “Not tonight. Unlike you, I prefer to visit houses of the dead long before or after the witching hour.”

  I poked him in the ribs through his coat. “Smart ass.”

  “Tell you what, let me look into what information I can find on Lily’s death first, and then we’ll take a field trip.”

  A cold breeze whipped down the street as we crunched up Aunt Zoe’s gravel drive, pelting us with dry leaves from the few deciduous trees on the street.

  “Natalie asked us to go with her to the Purple Door Saloon on Wednesday night.”

  “On Halloween? A costume party?”

  “Yes. You interested? It’s short notice on a costume, I know.”

  “You’re going?”

  “Probably. Nat loves Halloween. It’s her favorite holiday, and Aunt Zoe said she’d watch the kids for me.”

  “If you’re going, I’ll go. What costume are you wearing?”

  I had an idea. Something I thought would be fun. “It’s a surprise.”

  He pulled me to a stop next to his car door, wrapping me in his arms. “I like surprises when it comes to you and what you’re wearing … or not wearing.”

  “Good. I’ll take the kids trick-or-treating first, then I’ll come home and change before we head out.”

  “You want company with the kids?”

  My heart swelled at his willingness to tag along. “Sure, if you don’t mind putting up with my obnoxious spawn for yet another evening.”

  “Violet,” he tucked some curls behind my ear. “I like your kids. You don’t need to keep apologizing for their actions. I don’t expect them to love that I’m dating their mom right out of the gate, and I get that I’m a threat to the status quo.”

  I leaned my forehead against his chest. “I just wish they’d return to being the fun-loving kids they used to be when I first moved in with Aunt Zoe last spring.”

  “They will. You and I both know that hidden behind their dirty looks and smart attitudes are two scared children. It’s going to take time for them to understand that I’m not here to take you away from them.”

  “Thanks,” I unzipped his coat partway and slid my hands inside, seeking out his warmth for more reasons than the cool October night. “But I’m probably going to keep apologizing for what they say or do. Humility comes as part of the parenting package.” At least they weren’t as bad as Wilda Hessler poisoning local pets and her father. Oh, that reminded me of something I’d been wanting to ask Doc since the night we’d visited Cornelius’s suite. “Whatever happened with Cornelius that night when I heard Wilda’s voice on the recording and ran out?”

  “If that recording is legit, he wasn’t kidding. There are a lot of voices constantly all around him.”

  “What were they saying?”

  “Mostly nonsense.” He unzipped his coat the rest of the way, wrapping it around me so I was cocooned against him. “It sounded like a dozen different conversations going on at the same time, like a cocktail party minus the music.”

  “Weird.” I rested my cheek against him. “Why do you think they’re talking so much? Is it something we caused with those séances?”

  “Could be. Or maybe it’s something else.”

  The way he said that made me think he had something particular in mind. “Like what?”

  He hesitated, stroking my hair.

  “Come on, Doc.” I pulled back and smiled up at him. “After all we’ve been through, you’re not going to play shy now are you?” When he frowned down at me, still not speaking, I added, “I’ve seen you naked.”

  That made him grin. “What’s that have to do with Cornelius’s ghosts?”

  “Nothing, but I like to think about that fact every so often.”

  “Do you now?”

  I nodded. “Quit stalling and tell me your ‘something else’ theory.”

  “You’re going to think I have a screw loose.”

  “Please, I know you have a screw loose. You have to in order to spend a perfectly good Sunday night with my children.”

  “I like hanging out with your kids.”

  “Not to mention putting up with their mother pawing you left and right, trying to kiss you all of the time.”

  “Yeah, there is that.” He grimaced. “But that’s the price I have to pay to enjoy Layne and Addy’s company.”

  “Why I oughtta,” I said in a mobster voice and mock punched him. “Come on, Doc, tell me.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. “I think Cornelius isn’t a ghost whisperer.”

  “The whole chanting bit and hearing them talk in his walls is a hoax?”

  “No, both of those things are legit. He’s just not a whisperer. More like a ghost magnet.”

  “A magnet for ghosts?”

  Doc nodded. “Think of him as the Pied Piper, only instead of rats or kids as the legend goes, Cornelius is leading around a herd of ghosts.”

  * * *

  Monday, October 29th

  The breakfast crowd at the morgue was dead.

  I’d have preferred to face off with brain-hungry zombies rather than the two surly detectives waiting for me outside the same door I’d entered Saturday night for Eddie’s secret meeting. Only this time, the door knob was missing. The area around where the knob had been was concave, the paint flaking off where the metal was now creased. Criminy, had someone taken a battering ram to it?

  A new latch and padlock secured the broken door on the other side of the crime scene tape.

  “Morning, sunshine,” I said to Cooper as Detective Hawke unlocked the padlock and pushed open the door.

  “Can it, Parker.”

  “Sounds like someone didn’t eat his Wheaties this morni
ng.” I’d have to stock Doc’s cupboards if Cooper and I were going to start having regular breakfast pow-wows.

  I turned to Detective Hawke and his dark caterpillar eyebrows. “Where’s your pen and notepad, Colombo?”

  “Right here.” He patted the breast of his jacket.

  “Good. Pull ‘em out and let’s get to clicking.” Some of us had a desk to jockey in between practicing lines for a television show. “Just a warning, though, before we get going. I’m in no mood for any hair comments, got that, Detective?”

  “Relax, Ms. Parker. Nobody here is trying to attack you. We just have a few questions.”

  I raised my brows at Cooper. “I thought you got your fill of answers during yesterday’s anal cavity search over toast and coffee.”

  “You had eggs and bacon,” he said, his face stiff.

  “Hold up,” Hawke said, turning his back to me. “Are you socializing with one of our suspects?” he whispered to Cooper.

  “I can hear you loud and clear, Detective Hawke,” I said. “It’s a small garage with a concrete floor, remember?”

  “Would you plug your ears for a moment, Ms. Parker?”

  “You’ll need a warrant to make me.”

  Cooper glared over Hawke’s shoulder at me. “Parker, you need to put the brakes on your mouth this morning.”

  “Fine, but I don’t think you’re going to enjoy trying to figure out my answers via a game of charades. I’m willing to try, though, if you two are good at guessing.”

  After nailing me with his trademark squint, he focused back on Hawke. “Not that it’s your business but just to clarify, I’m currently renting a room from Parker’s boyfriend. That is why my interrogation yesterday occurred over breakfast.”

  “What’s wrong with your house?”

  “There’s a squatter living there.”

  “I thought your uncle was moving in with you.”

  “One and the same.”

  “But why … oh, I get it. You’re keeping your distance from him because the chief took you off the murder case.”

  “Yes, something like that.”

  “That’s smart. You need to keep your distance so I can solve this and move on to your next problem case.”

  Cooper’s steely eyes flashed with something scary that made me take a step back from the two cops. “Right as usual, Detective Hawke, which is why I questioned you earlier about needing me to be here with you two this morning. If I’m not on this case, you should be interrogating Parker on your own.”

 

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