Devil Days in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  “Howdy, Coop,” Harvey called to his nephew, who looked about as happy to see us as he would a proctologist donning latex gloves.

  Cooper had on the same police coat he’d worn last night, but his jeans were black this morning. His hair was slicked back until a puff of wind had fun with it. His jaw was whisker-covered and his eyes were red-rimmed. I wondered how much sleep he’d gotten after last night’s fun and games at the grocery store, not to mention the report that Hawke had pushed off on him to write regarding the B&E at the bank. I hoped he’d managed to get enough sleep to make him less growly, but knowing Cooper, I expected to get nipped a few times this morning.

  “What are you doing here, Coop?” Doc asked. “I figured you’d still be curled up in bed with your little blankie and toy pistol after the long hours you put in yesterday.”

  I grinned in spite of the glower Cooper aimed at Doc.

  “I’m going to shoot at your feet later, Nyce, just to watch you dance.”

  Doc laughed.

  “I got a call,” Cooper explained, hunching deeper into his coat as another rush of cold air rocked us.

  “From Natalie?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “From Zelda Britton.”

  What? Zelda called the cops? “Did somebody try to break into the house again?”

  A few months ago, while Wanda Carhart was still alive and owned the place, somebody had broken into the house looking for a certain book—one that I had snuck out with me after the showdown I’d had with Lila Beaumont and Wanda’s daughter, Millie. Doc had stashed the book in his closet for me, which was where it was when the robber had come looking for it here. Prudence had been in the house alone at the time and witnessed the scene, which she later relayed to me through Wanda. I’d filled Doc and Cooper in about the break-in, so we were all up to speed.

  “No,” Cooper said, scowling up at the sky as it started to pepper us with snow. “Zelda called me about a half hour ago. She told me that Parker was going to be up here with my uncle soon and said that Prudence insisted I join them here.” He focused on Doc. “She didn’t mention anything about you, though.”

  “I’m the surprise guest star,” he said, looking toward the house. I wondered if he could sense anything from Prudence yet. All I was picking up out in this wind were goose bumps, and they had little to do with the unnerving ghost waiting for us inside.

  “So Zelda calls and you jump,” I said to Cooper. “I’m surprised you didn’t tell Prudence to go to hell.”

  “I did, but Zelda swore that this was a life-or-death sort of conversation. After I complained about Parker interfering with my sleep yet again, Prudence came on the line.”

  “Prudence?” I asked, wondering if he’d meant to say Zelda.

  “Yes, Prudence. She told me that as a constable, I needed to reconsider my attitude and watch my mouth around respectable ladies.”

  Harvey snorted. “Ol’ Prudy reminds me of a prostitute I knew back in—”

  “Uncle Willis,” Cooper stopped him. “Take care. She’s probably listening to us right now.”

  Cooper could be right. Prudence was sneaky that way.

  “What is Prudence up to?” I said under my breath, staring up at the attic window. I watched for the sheer curtain to shift or sway to show that we were being watched, but it stayed still. “First she wanted Harvey here and now you, too.”

  “Zelda wouldn’t tell me anything more,” Cooper said. “She just reiterated that Prudence wanted me to join your Sunday morning meeting and that I shouldn’t be late.” Cooper looked back at the SUV. “Oh, and there was one other order Zelda relayed.”

  “What’s that?” Doc asked.

  Cooper opened the back door of his SUV. “Wake up, buttercup,” he shouted.

  I leaned over and peered into the back seat, my jaw dropping. “You brought Cornelius?” I watched as the long-legged ghost whisperer stretched and yawned before joining us out in the cold.

  “Prudence is very bossy.” Cooper squinted at me. “She reminds me a lot of you, Parker, minus the crazy hair, of course.”

  “Be careful, Cooper,” I said, shutting the door behind Cornelius. “Or I’ll tell Prudence you don’t like Executioners. It’d be a shame to watch her make you tear out one of your own teeth this morning.”

  He aimed his keys at me. “If I lose a tooth, I’ll throw you in jail and not let Nyce bail you out this time.”

  I jammed my hands in my coat pockets. “You said you weren’t going to threaten to throw me in jail anymore.”

  “Yeah, well, that was before you threatened my teeth.”

  Cornelius caught his Russian Cossack hat as the wind tried to snatch it away and pulled it down tighter. “I’m hungry. Did anyone bring a protein bar with them?”

  I dug one out of my purse and handed it over to Cornelius. At the raised brows from the other three, I shrugged. “I’m a mom. I grabbed some snacks.”

  Doc caught my arm, tugging me toward the front porch. “Come on, Killer. We might as well see why Prudence called this meeting.”

  As we climbed the steps, I glanced back at Cooper. “Natalie is with the kids.”

  “I know.”

  “Did Zelda tell you that, too?” I joked, noticing the curtain in the living room window move.

  “No.” He copied me, burying his hands in his coat pockets. “Natalie did.”

  “Is she staying with you tonight?”

  He scowled. “What is this, Parker? An interrogation?”

  “Maybe. Is she?”

  “That’s none of your damned business.”

  “Fine, I’ll just ask her later.”

  The five of us stood on the porch, nobody making a move to ring the doorbell.

  “What is that thing?” Cooper asked, looking at Doc’s hand.

  Doc held up the wrapped mirror. “It’s the mirror from Zoe’s workshop. We’re trying to find out if this will help Violet catch the lidérc.”

  “Why would a mirror help?”

  “If it’s a magic mirror,” Cornelius said, “it could be used to trap an entity.” He stroked his goatee. “The problem is it might trap the wrong entity.”

  Harvey snorted. “I knew this hippie girl years back who said the same thing about doors. She’d get real skittish if you pulled your fishing pole out to—”

  “Harvey,” I interrupted.

  “What? I was going to say go to the bathroom while the door was shut. It made things sort of awkward, if you get my gist. I know some folks are into golden showers, but—”

  “And on that note,” I butted in again, “let’s do this.” I opened the screen door and reached for the doorbell.

  Zelda beat me to the punch, opening the door. Thankfully, her eyes were their usual green selves at the moment.

  “Hello, Violet. Your eye is looking better already.” She tightened her long gray sweater around her as the wind swirled around us. “I hope you didn’t mind me calling in Detective Cooper. Prudence insisted he join us, too, along with your friend, the Collector, but he has to leave his followers outside.” She must be referring to the ghost “pests” Prudence had complained about before.

  Zelda’s gaze passed over the others, widening when she saw Doc. “Oh! Who is this? Prudence didn’t mention a fifth for this morning.”

  “This is my boyfriend, Doc.” I patted his arm. “He’s a medium. Prudence met him a couple of times back before you bought the place. I hope you don’t mind me bringing him, but I needed him along to help.”

  “Your boyfriend is a medium? How interesting.” She smiled up at Doc. “How long have you been able to interact with the dead?”

  “All of my life.”

  “How exciting!” She clapped her hands together.

  Doc and I exchanged wry glances. Funny, I’d had the exact opposite reaction to that bit of news the first time Doc had shared it with me.

  “I would love to pick your brain sometime,” Zelda continued, stepping back to make way for us. “Come in, all of you.” As we file
d inside, she added, “I hope you’re hungry. When I found out that Violet and Mr. Harvey would be coming, I threw together some honeybuns. They’re just out of the oven, but should be cool enough to eat shortly.”

  “Well, I should smile.” Harvey rubbed his belly. “I’m hungry enough to eat a bear with the hair still on it.”

  I frowned back at him. “We just ate, Harvey,” I whispered, although the smell of fresh baked honeybuns was making me drool a little.

  “So what,” he whispered back. “I get hungry when I’m nervous, and Zelda knows her way around the kitchen.” He shook one of his legs. “There, now I have room for more.”

  “Where is your phantom friend?” Cornelius asked Zelda while shrugging off his coat. He eyed the other end of the foyer warily as she led the way into the living room. I had a feeling he was remembering what happened involving Zelda the scarecrow last time we’d been here.

  “Oh, she’s around,” Zelda said, light and airy, as if Prudence didn’t like to slam people against doors, give them black eyes, and threaten to tear out their canine teeth on a semi-regular basis.

  Doc handed me the mirror and then ushered me in front while Cooper closed the front door behind him and brought up the rear. I didn’t really want to sit anywhere too close to anyone after my past bruisings, so I walked over to stand by the window that overlooked the Open Cut. Harvey and Cornelius took the couch, while Cooper stood wide-legged over by the window that looked out onto the porch. Doc moved to the fireplace, warming his hands above the flames.

  “You all make yourself comfortable while I bring the honeybuns and some plates and napkins.” As she walked toward the kitchen, she said over her shoulder, “I’ll bring some warm milk, too. Prudence says that Mr. Harvey prefers it with his honeybuns.”

  “I’d like some, too,” Cornelius called while the rest of us turned to stare at Harvey.

  Harvey grimaced, holding up both hands. “She’s right. My mama always gave me warm milk with sweets.”

  “How does she know that, though?” Cooper asked.

  I thought about things I’d experienced in this very room in the past. “Were you thinking about warm milk before Zelda said anything about the honeybuns?”

  Harvey pursed his lips, scratching his beard. “No, I was thinking about Bessie.”

  “Your shotgun?” Doc asked.

  “Yep. I was wishing I’d brought her along.”

  I growled at him, including his nephew in my scowl. “You two and your firearms. I swear, one of these days I’m going to end up shot because you keep forgetting that guns don’t work on ghosts.”

  “Maybe I won’t be aiming for the ghosts,” Cooper said, a grin cracking his hard features when I flipped him off.

  Cornelius yawned, leaning his head back against the couch. He’d taken off his coat, but left his furry hat in place. “She’s listening to our thoughts.”

  Harvey settled into the couch. “You mean Zelda?”

  “No, the other one.” Cornelius indicated toward the empty chair. “She’s sitting here with us right now.”

  We all stared at the chair, except for Cornelius, who laced his fingers, looking like he was just waiting around for his name to be called at the dentist’s office.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Doc turn his back to the fire. When I looked his way, he sniffed and then shook his head.

  So the bloodhound couldn’t pick her up. Was Prudence somehow blocking him?

  “Cooper?” I looked at him, noticing his stiff stance. “Do you see her?”

  “No. Curion, are you fucking with us?”

  “Not at all. As I said last night, some entities can choose whether or not they are noticed.”

  “If she’s resisting being seen, then how do you know she’s sitting there listening to our thoughts?” I asked him.

  He shifted, resting his ankle on his knee. “Because I can hear her whispering.”

  Chills peppered my arms. “What is she saying?”

  He lifted one side of his hat, turning his ear in her direction. After one long tension-filled moment, he said, “Something about being glad Nat isn’t here.”

  Nat? As in Natalie, my best friend?

  Harvey looked from me to Cooper and back again. “Which one of you two is thinkin’ about Natalie?”

  Oh, of course. “Not me.” I turned to Cooper.

  Cooper’s cheeks darkened.

  “Now she’s talking about my clairaudience ability,” Cornelius continued. “And she’s asking if all Executioners have extensive physical medium abilities like Violet.”

  I looked at Doc. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

  He nodded slowly, frowning at the empty chair.

  “What else?” I asked Cornelius. “What other stuff is she whispering?”

  I tried to think about something mundane, but the only thing I could focus on was how much this parlor game of Prudence’s reminded me of that moment in the movie Ghostbusters when one of the guys thought about the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.

  Cornelius held up his finger, leaning forward. “She is talking about sugar honeybuns now.”

  Doc and I exchanged frowns.

  “You think those are Zelda’s thoughts?” I asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Cornelius said. “Apparently, Sugar Honeybuns was a stripper from a club in Reno who was known for using honey as lubrication during se—”

  “Harvey!” I gaped at the dirty bird.

  “What?” He grinned wide. “I can’t help it. I’m hungry and honeybuns always remind me of Sugar. That girl was sweet enough to rot your teeth, I’m tellin’ you. But that honey she used made my giblets sticky, getting in all of the creases and—”

  “Cooper, make him stop.” I cringed back into the curtains.

  “You’re the one who brought him along,” Cooper said, his expression probably mirroring mine.

  “Now she’s saying something about my grandma’s famous honeybun cake drizzled with … Oh, wait. Those are my thoughts.” He shook his head, smiling absently. “My grandmother would use homemade sour cream and whip the batter by hand. The sweet, honey smell would fill—”

  “Here we are,” Zelda returned, interrupting Cornelius’s trip down memory lane.

  She set down a big serving dish with honeybuns in the center of it, offering the sweet buns to us. Cooper waved her off, same as he had in the past when it came to Zelda sharing treats. He must not be into sugary foods, at least not in the morning, which was unfortunate since of all of us, he could use the most sweetening up.

  “Now,” she said, sitting in the chair where Cornelius claimed Prudence had been holding court. “Who’s going to start?”

  Harvey slurped his warm milk in between taking large bites from his honeybun. Apparently, he wasn’t going to lead the way.

  “I will,” I said, unwrapping the mirror. “I brought something for Prudence to see.” I stripped away the newspaper and let it drift to the carpet. “I need to know if she thinks this mirror will help me catch the lidérc.”

  “Oh, my,” Zelda said, fanning herself. “Is anyone else feeling hot?”

  I shook my head, glancing at Doc. He was watching Zelda with a deep frown.

  She pushed up out of the chair, taking a step toward Cooper. “Maybe I need to get a glass of …” She swayed.

  Cooper reached out and caught her as she started to tip sideways, holding her up by the shoulders.

  “What the hell?” I said, my heart pounding.

  Zelda slumped in Cooper’s arms, her body shuddering for several seconds before going still. Then her head drooped forward, her auburn hair shielding her face.

  “Zelda!” I rushed to her side. I looked up at Cooper’s rigid face. “Is she okay?”

  “She feels cold,” he said, turning her while shifting his grip to keep her from dropping to the floor. “Like she just stepped out of the body cooler over at Mudder Brothers.”

  “That’s not Zelda,” Cornelius said, sounding a little too much like Vincent Price
.

  I frowned over at him, watching as he licked some icing off his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

  “Astral projection.” He lifted the glass of milk Zelda had brought for him, aiming it toward Zelda’s limp form. “Look closer.”

  What did he mean, Look closer? I pushed Zelda’s hair out of the way, lifting her chin.

  The sight of Prudence’s porcelain-skinned face instead of Zelda’s made me gasp. Her skin shimmered. I leaned in closer, reaching out to touch her face. “How can this …”

  Prudence’s white eyes flashed open. “Stay back!”

  I screamed.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Ahhh!” I stumbled backward, taking Prudence’s words to heart.

  Cooper shifted Prudence’s limp form and reached for me, but I was too far away for him to grab.

  Doc rushed to help me as the back of my knees collided with the coffee table.

  My arms windmilled, the mirror slipping from my grip. “No!” I yelled as the mirror fell toward the corner of the coffee table.

  Doc caught the mirror a split second before it slammed into the table, but he missed my outstretched hand as it flew by his face.

  I crashed down onto the coffee table, landing butt-first on the serving plate of honeybuns. My momentum sent me and the buns sliding across the table and onto the floor where I ended up wedged between the couch and the table with my legs up in the air. Thankfully, I was still wearing my yoga pants, or Harvey would have been singing about seeing London and France along with my underpants for the rest of the damned day.

  “Damn it, Parker!” Cooper barked as I huffed with my neck all cricked so that I was practically kissing my kneecaps. “Does everything have to be a circus act? What are you going to do for an encore? Juggle chainsaws?”