A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7) (2 page)

After some of the freaky shit Harvey and I’d been through lately, he had a point.

“Better yet,
Killer Parker
. Ya gotta admit, that has a real nice ring to it.”

I aimed another rib poke his way.

Harvey held up his hands. “Fine, plain ol’ Violet Parker it is.”

“That’s better.”

A snort came from his side of the vehicle. “It’s no fair. Ya let Doc call you all sorts of names besides
Violet
.”

I also let Doc Nyce see me naked whenever life allowed us a moment alone, and I often encouraged him to touch me in territory outlawed to the rest of mankind. “That’s different.”

“Because you two are knockin’ your low-steppin’ boots?”

This time I pinched his thigh.

He howled. “Dang it, girl, ya sure got yer horns out this mornin’.”

He didn’t know the half of it. I’d woken up fighting with my pillow in sweat-soaked sheets again. Over the past week, while the flu held me hostage, my nightmares had returned in full force. The legendary cast of my nocturnal imaginary world ranged from white-haired juggernauts to snarling bone crunchers and face-melting demons. I’d been slain in my sleep more times than I could count thanks to their ghoulish choice of weaponry.

But my nightmares were my problem, not Harvey’s.

A glance his way found his blue eyes narrowed, watching me. “If you’re not talking about me high-stepping, who then?” I asked. I slowed, easing as far right as I could on the narrow residential street to allow a jacked-up pickup to pass going the opposite way. “One of your old flames?”

Harvey had so many old flames burning around the Black Hills that I couldn’t go to the grocery store without getting singed.

“Nope. Yer boyfriend’s ex.”

The mere thought of Doc’s ex-girlfriend made me clench the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. “I don’t want to talk about Tiffany Sugarbell!”

Or her flat stomach.

Or her perky boobs.

Or her gorgeous red hair, especially after trying to wrangle my blonde curly mess into submission today only to have it spiral out of control as soon as I’d stepped outside.

He blew out a low whistle. “Yer like sittin’ next to a box of ol’ TNT today. You need to breathe easy for a bit, spitfire.”

“I can’t help it.” I peeled my fingers off the wheel, trying to shake the tension out of one hand and then the other. “You and I both know that bitch is nuts.”

Harvey nodded. “That’s how the cow ate the cabbage.”

“The cow ate what?” Was that another bovine comparison?

He waved off my confusion. “That woman’s banjo ain’t been tuned right since you came to town.”

It wasn’t my arrival that sent Tiffany spinning out of control; it had been Doc cutting her from his life. That had been when she’d started filling up his phone with text messages and voicemails.

“I’d like to shove her banjo where the sun doesn’t shine.” Or better yet, take a sledge hammer to it now that she’d decided that wooing back my boyfriend wasn’t enough and had begun seducing my clients, too.

I slowed and turned into the gravel driveway leading up to the Carhart house. The arched and gabled Gothic-revival style dwelling loomed in the windshield. Dark clouds threatening snow painted a gloomy backdrop.

Speaking of a lack of sunshine …

I killed the engine.

“There she sits in all of her hair-raisin’, blood-stained glory.” Harvey stared out the windshield along with me.

“It’s a beautiful house.” I stuck to my original observation from back in August, but my tone was more anxious than in months past.

The old place was the picture of elegance and calm on the outside, a wood and nails version of a classic Hollywood starlet. My gaze climbed up past the first two stories, faltering when it reached the attic window. The gauzy white curtain hanging there swayed even though the window was closed. If only the ghost living within the house’s graceful bones would stop scaring the bejeezus out of me every time I crossed the threshold.

“It’s time to batten down the hatches.” Harvey’s voice had a smidgen of unease rippling through it. “Things are gonna get ugly.”

I dragged my focus away from the attic window. “I heard we’re supposed to get several inches of snow by nightfall.”

“I’m not talkin’ about the weather.” He pointed at the house. “I got a notion tightenin’ my innards.”

“I told you at breakfast that I was done talking about glitches with your bodily functions for today.” Frankly, I didn’t have the stomach for that discussion. I loved the old codger dearly, but I couldn’t afford to be
off my feed
, as Harvey liked to put it. With Deadwood winters being long and cold enough for my fellow cows to give ice cream, I needed to make sure my extra layers of fat remained gelatinously in place to keep me good and warm.

“This ain’t about
my
problems, it’s about yers.”

“You volunteered to be my bodyguard, remember?” Harvey and his companion, Bessie, which happened to be a doubled-barreled shotgun, had the job of making sure I retained life and limbs at all times. “How is this going to work if my problems aren’t yours, too?”

He scratched under his beard. “You got too many wasps in yer outhouse, girlie, especially with that scorned she-devil sharpenin’ her pitchfork.”

“Tiffany can kiss my ass.”

I was done festering about Doc’s damned ex. It was time to go play hide-and-seek with Prudence the ghost.

I shoved my door open, wincing as a frigid blast of cold air whipped past me and slammed the door shut behind me. “You can pucker up, too, Mother Nature.” I shook my fist at the dark sky. Tucking my head inside of my collar like a turtle, I clutched my coat lapels and plowed through the wind toward the house.

Harvey caught up with me at the porch steps. “There’s a shitstorm comin’ yer way.”

My laughter didn’t travel far thanks to the gust of wind that blew it toward Lead’s cavernous Open Cut next door, tossing it over the side into the 1,250 foot deep pit mine. “I’ve been mired in one shitstorm after another since I moved up to Deadwood last spring.”

A sharp-clawed ex-girlfriend and an unnerving ghost were only two of my many problems. These days, I chewed my knuckles more about all of the other terrors hiding in the shadows.

“Yeah, but yer belly’s showin’ now,” Harvey said.

I glanced down at my stomach, which was visible through my open coat. The sight of loose threads where two buttons formerly had been sewn distracted me for a moment, making me want to strangle a chicken. Not just any chicken—my daughter Addy’s pet hen that she’d named Elvis. That damned bird was obsessed with stealing buttons and burying them in her cage down in the basement.

“Not that belly.” Harvey jammed his hands in his coat pockets. “Yer other one.”

“You mean because word has spread now about my real job as an …” I still couldn’t get my tongue to participate on cue when it came to saying the word aloud.

“Executioner,” Harvey finished for me.

“Shhhh.”

“Why are you shushin’ me, girl? There’s nobody here but you and me and yer wacky ghost buddy inside.”

“Nobody that we can see.” I pulled him up on the porch, lowering my voice. “And Prudence is not my buddy.”

“According to her, yer from the same killin’ breed.”

Behind Harvey, a black Ram truck rolled into the drive, easing around my SUV. It was time to play real estate agent extraordinaire.

“They’re here.” I pasted a smile on my face as the pickup came to a stop. “No more talk about all of this weird stuff going on until we leave,” I warned through my teeth.

He watched along with me as the new owners of the Carhart house hopped down from the tall truck. “Woo-wee! That boy is a regular Sherman tank.”

That was a spot-on description of Zeke Britton. Larger than life from his round bald head down to his clown-sized shoes, the man was a former professional wrestler. After years of pounding bodies into the mat, he’d left the ring to be an independent surveyor.

Zelda, his wife, was about a third of Zeke’s size. She’d tucked her auburn hair under a black stocking cap decorated with a big yellow daisy on the front. Our shared love of the happy-faced flower was one of the reasons I’d liked her the first time she’d walked into the Calamity Jane Realty office back in August. That and the way her smile made her green eyes sparkle. I’d never have guessed she had such a passion for books from the way she’d been draped from head to toe in biker leather. A career librarian, Zelda knew books like Harvey knew ranching. It was in their bones.

Realty, on the other hand, barely scratched below my skin’s surface, and my executioner role floated beyond my fingertips most days. If only eating chocolate mixed with peanut butter were a legitimate profession.

“What am I doin’ here again?” Harvey asked out of the side of his mouth.

“Protecting me from Prudence.”

“I mean what was that tale you were gonna tell these two?”

“You are here with me because we’re going house hunting after we leave.”

“Gotcha.” He glanced my way. “You might wanna dial that ghoulish grin of yers down a few notches before you scare the birds away.”

“Zip it, old man.” I left the porch and met Zeke and Zelda halfway up the walk, welcoming them with a hug. “Congratulations, you two. Your new house is all ready for you.”

At least I hoped it was. I’d been too scaredy-cat to go inside and inspect the haunted house by myself after the housekeeping service had called to tell me they were done. Instead, I’d paid extra to have them place a few flower-filled vases around and make sure the place looked inviting for the new owners.

Another frigid blast of wind urged us up onto the porch where Harvey stood waiting, his grin wide enough to show off his two gold teeth.

“Zeke and Zelda, this is my client, Willis Harvey. I hope you don’t mind that he tagged along. We’re heading out to shop some potential homes as soon as we leave.”

“Not at all,” Zelda said, shaking Harvey’s hand after her husband. “Brrrr, your hands are cold, Mr. Harvey. How long have you two been standing out here?”

“A few minutes,” I told her, unlocking the front door. “We wanted to let you two be the first to step inside your new home.”

Not to mention that the less time I spent within the walls of the Carhart house the less I needed adult diapers to cope with its overactive ghost.

I followed Zelda and Zeke through the door, soaking up the warmth inside the narrow foyer. The place smelled like vanilla, the same as always. Prudence must be partial to that scent.

“It’s just as amazing as I remembered.” Zelda trailed her hand lovingly along the silk wallpaper and then touched her fingertip to one of the Tiffany style stained-glass wall sconces. She caught her husband’s hand and towed him into the kitchen. “Oh!” she cried out in happiness. “Look at the bouquet of lilies, poms, and magnolia tips. How perfect!”

The sound of the door closing behind me gave me a start.

Harvey patted my back. “Yer actin’ like a hen in a coyote den.”

“I can’t help it,” I whispered. “This place messes with my head.” Prudence always had a way of sneaking up on me even when I was ready for her.

“It sure is a purty home. You’d never know all of the murderin’ that’s gone on in here.”

“Let’s just hope that its gory history stays in the past.”

The Brittons joined us again and then wandered into the sitting room, admiring its birch floor covered with cream-colored shag rugs. Wanda Carhart had sold the house to them as is, including the burgundy leather furnishings, which was nice for the new owners. However, I would have preferred a total remodel to erase my own bloody memories of the place.

After more coos of happiness, the Brittons headed for the wide stairwell. I motioned for Harvey to stay put and then followed them up the stairs, wanting to make sure Prudence hadn’t carved any words into the walls or played any other pranks to get my attention.

We traversed the house, Zeke and Zelda all smiles and glad-eyes while I cringed and winced at every turn, anticipating Prudence turning Zelda into her personal ventriloquist dummy. I breathed a sigh of relief when we returned to Harvey, who was still waiting in the foyer.

At his raised bushy eyebrows, I shook my head.

“Well, you two,” I said to Zeke and Zelda, “if you’re happy with the place and ready to enjoy it on your own, Mr. Harvey and I will take our leave.”

“I hope you’ll come back soon.” Zelda hugged me for about the tenth time since we’d entered the house. “You’ve been such a joy to work with. I’m so glad we chose you to be our Realtor.”

My cheeks warmed at her compliment. “It’s been my pleasure.”

“There’s just one more thing.” Zelda looked around. “Where’s my purse?”

“You left it in the kitchen, baby,” Zeke said.

Zelda zipped into the kitchen and back again. “We want you to have this.” She handed me a jewelry box.

“You two didn’t need to get me anything,” I said, frowning down at the box.

“Open it,” Zelda urged.

Inside was a leather necklace with a white, arrowhead shaped trinket surrounded by beads. I lifted it out of the box.

“It’s an alligator tooth,” Zelda explained. “Some cultures believe alligator teeth bring good luck while gambling. Since you live in Deadwood, I thought of you when I saw it.”

Considering that I’d been gambling with my life more often than not lately, I was happy to have any good luck charms that came along. “Thank you both. It’s very sweet of you.”

“Here, let me help you put it on.” Zelda took the necklace from me and slipped it over my head. “There, now you’re ready to go out and win.”

I’d settle for going out and not dying.

“We’d like to have you come over for a thank-you dinner sometime, too, if you don’t mind.”

Dinner with Prudence the ghost? I didn’t know how I’d be able to keep from hiding under the table the whole time. “Sure,” I said, trying to mean it. “Give me a call and we’ll pick a date.”

“Deal.” Zelda followed us to the door while Zeke disappeared into the kitchen. “And please don’t be a stranger. I feel like you and I are two old souls who have been waiting to meet up again.”

I stared at her with my breath held, wondering if that was Prudence talking or Zelda. Usually Prudence’s melodic mid-Eastern Atlantic accent took over when she played puppet master, but maybe Zelda would be different. After all, I was pretty sure that she was the “librarian” Prudence had demanded I bring to the house on several of my past visits.