A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7) (32 page)

“Is that why we’re meeting Coop here?” he asked, his focus centered well below my chin. His thumb strummed over me, making me moan. My knees were getting loosey-goosey, threatening to give and leave me as nothing more than a steamy throbbing mess of hair and boots at Doc’s feet.

“We need your help.”

He popped the penultimate button. My sweater gaped, both sides of my bra now visible. He reached up and took my drink down from the pool cue rack, offering me a sip. I took it, my throat a desert from the panting brought on by his teasing.

“My help with what?” He took my drink and rubbed the cold, dew covered glass over the front of my bra. A jolt of pleasure spiraled deep into my core. The chilly dampness should have cooled the fire burning through me, but it only cranked the heat higher. Spontaneous combustion was a finger stroke away.

I tried to gulp but my mouth had dried up.

“You need my help with what, vixen?” he asked again.

What were we talking about? Oh, yeah. “Your help with how Prudence could manipulate two puppets at once.”

“Let me think about that.” He leaned down and blew on the damp lace. I tipped my head back, my eyes closing at the heady sensation his breath sparked. Stars dotted the back of my lids.

His hand slid down to my waist. He leaned into me once more as his mouth came down on mine. His lips were soft this time, tenderly turning me inside out, upside down, and every which way.

I kept my eyes closed, letting my other senses rule. The scent of his cologne made me quiver. His muscles tensed under my palms as I stroked and gripped, encouraging me to grow bolder, more aggressive. His breath came fast and hard, matching mine.

“Doc,” I whispered when we pulled apart, my lids still lowered. “What are we doing here?”

“Playing with fire.”

“Let’s go somewhere private.”

“We can’t.” His hand brushed along the underside of my bra.

“Why not?”

His knuckles bumped me again. My eyelids fluttered open. I frowned down at the sight of his fingers buttoning up my sweater.

“Because Coop’s here.”

A glass of ice water dumped down my underwear would have been less jarring. I knocked Doc’s hands aside, buttoning up the last three buttons while peeking over his shoulder to search the room. “Where?”

“He’s at the bar.”

Sure enough, there he was ordering a drink. Cooper had traded his dress pants and tie for a black long sleeve T-shirt and jeans. His spine was as stiff as ever, though.

I smoothed my sweater down over my chest, frowning at my headlights stuck on bright and clearly visible through the fabric.

Doc sucked a breath through his teeth, his gaze on my headlights, too. “Damn, that’s sexy. I’m going to need a cold shower tonight.”

“Or you could join me in my bed.”

His eyes lifted to mine. “Have you thought about what I said?”

Thought? More like obsessed about it in between worrying about Caly, Wilda, Prudence, and more. “I’ve thought about the things I’d like to do to you with my mouth, does that count?”

A mixture of pleasure and pain passed over his face.

“Break it up, you two,” Cooper’s voice interrupted us before Doc could answer. “Enough of this PDA shit.”

Doc dropped one last kiss on my lips and then turned to face the detective. “Your timing sucks as usual, Coop. I hear you had some fun with Prudence today.”

Cooper looked at me, his gaze dropping to my leg for a moment. “More like Prudence had fun with me.” He pointed his glass of amber-colored liquid at me. “You missed a button.”

I glanced down. Sure enough, the third one down was buttoned through the second’s slot. Damn his detective eyes.

“Oops.” Doc stepped between us, blocking me from Cooper’s view. “I get all fingers and thumbs when Violet’s around.” I could hear the laughter in Doc’s voice as I fixed my sweater.

My skin warmed again, but only on my cheeks and neck this time. It was one thing to play the sultry sex kitten when Doc and I were the only two back here. But getting busted screwing around with my boyfriend made it tougher for me to match Cooper nip for nip when it came to our usual teeth-filled banter.

“Aren’t you afraid Parker will bite your fingers off?”

Speaking of teeth, I leaned around Doc and flashed mine at Cooper in a lip-curled snarl.

“Let’s get a booth,” Doc said, catching my hand and leading the way through the tables. With so few patrons, it wasn’t hard to find a corner of privacy. I slid into the booth first. Doc followed, his right shoulder bumping my left as we settled into the seat.

Cooper finished his drink and ordered another from a passing waitress before he took the bench seat across from us.

“All right, fill me in on your visit with Prudence.” Doc’s right hand slid under the table, locking onto my lower thigh.

I jerked in pain, bumping the table hard enough to rattle the salt shakers and tip over a plastic menu holder.

He drew his hand back, his forehead creased. “Did I hurt you?”

“I sort of have a bruise there.”

Cooper swore under his breath.

Doc crooked his head to the side. “That was more than a sort-of-bruise reaction. What happened at the Carhart house?”

Cooper and I exchanged frowns.

“That’s what we need to talk to you about,” I said.

Doc scrutinized our shared frowns. “Did Prudence do something to hurt you?”

“It wasn’t Prudence.” Cooper beat me to the punch. “I’m the one who hurt her.”

“You did not hurt me,” my pride snapped back.

“Bullshit, Parker. Nyce nearly sent you through the roof a moment ago.”

“That bruise was not your doing.”

“It was
my
hand on your leg doing the squeezing, remember?”

“His hand was on your leg?” One of Doc’s eyebrows crept up his forehead. “You two had better be careful or you might accidentally start being nice to each other. Worse yet,” he draped his arm along the booth seat behind me, “you may actually become friends.”

Cooper snorted. “Not gonna happen. I’m allergic to Parker. It’s probably all of that crazy hair.”

I flipped him off. “It was Prudence,” I explained to Doc. “She manipulated Cooper, using him as a puppet.”

“Did she speak through him?” Doc’s hand warmed my shoulder, his fingers stroking, calming me.

“This was different. She spoke through Zelda.” I went on to tell him what had happened. However, when it came to the part about my having to be the one hunting down Wanda’s killer, I kind of skipped over that—as in not mentioning it at all.

Judging from the dark clouds hanging over Cooper’s brow during my playback, I doubted he’d be receptive to my butting in on his case. At least not until he had a few more drinks in him. As in a few more than the single glass the waitress brought him while I finished my tale.

Doc’s fingers stilled. “I knew Prudence was strong, but I had no idea she was capable of this.”

“You should feel how hard she can squeeze,” I grumbled.

“How can a ghost be strong?” Cooper asked. “They’re wispy and … what’s the word? Ectoplasmic.”

Grinning, Doc said, “A ghost’s strength is not a physical ability, like weight lifting—something we both know you suck at compared to me.”

Cooper chuckled. “Fuck you, Nyce.”

Doc’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “It’s more a combination of mental energy and its receptivity to the medium in the room.”

“But you’re the medium, and you weren’t there.”

“No, but Violet was.”

“What do I have to do with Prudence?”

“I have a theory about you two,” he told me, “but first, Coop, do you remember anything during that period of altered state?”

Cooper stirred the ice in his glass. “I remember feeling dizzy and queasy, needing to sit down before I fell down. Parker led me to the couch and then everything sort of faded to black.” He looked up from his drink, his gray eyes hooded. “Like I was stuck in a dream. I was fighting against something that had me pinned down. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get up. Then it was over and I was free, sitting on the couch next to Parker. I didn’t realize my hand was on her leg until she pointed it out.”

“Which is why I keep saying it wasn’t you who hurt me,” I told him.

“So you have no memory of seeing anything during your altered state?” Doc pressed Cooper. “Any images of other people or of Prudence herself? Any voices or smells?”

Cooper shook his head. “The whole thing was a long, dark struggle.” He scowled down at his glass. “I don’t remember ever feeling so weak. So defenseless.” His wrinkled upper lip mirrored his apparent self-disgust.

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Doc said. “Prudence is one of the strongest ghosts I’ve ever come across. Most don’t even have the ability to make you aware they’re standing right next to you.”

“Or inside of you,” I muttered, thinking of the dead prostitute in the stairwell of The Old Prospector Hotel. She’d manifested in my shoes, using my face as a mask without my knowing it.

“How is it possible for a ghost to take over someone like that?” Cooper asked.

“There are several theories on how ghosts can manipulate the living, many having to do with telepathic communication. For example, you might have felt that Prudence was holding you down, but it likely had more to do with her ability to convince your subconscious self to take control of your conscious self.”

“So I was actually controlling my hand the whole time while it squeezed Parker’s leg, but I wasn’t consciously aware of it?”

Doc nodded. “But that’s only one theory.”

“Christ.” Cooper tore his fingers through his hair. It looked like a sea of blond shark fins when he finished. “I’m going to need a whole bottle of whiskey before the night is over.”

“What’s another theory?” I asked Doc, thinking about my experiences with Prudence and Wilda.

“It has to do with what you and Prudence have in common.”

I aimed a glance at Cooper. He knew about my
other
job, but I still didn’t like talking about it in front of him. “You mean the executioner gig?”

“I mean you both being physical mediums.”

Huh? “You’re the medium, I’m just a channeler.”

“We both know that’s not true, Killer.”

“But I can’t see or talk to ghosts.” Not usually anyway. “I’m a dud.”

He shifted in the seat, careful not to bump my leg as he faced me. “I’ve been telling you since I met you that you weren’t a dud. Trust me, duds don’t experience what you have with the paranormal world. Just because you don’t actually see or hear or talk to the ghosts the way Cornelius and I can doesn’t mean you have no abilities.”

“So what am I again?”

Cornelius and Doc had come up with several technical terms for what I’d pulled off with that bone cruncher that night out back of Harvey’s place, but I couldn’t remember them and honestly, I hadn’t wanted to. I was still trying to get used to the title of “Executioner” most days.

“You’re a woman with many paranormal skills, including being a physical medium.”

“How is that different from what you can do?”

“I’m a mental medium. I can tune into the spirit world using skills such as clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, transference, that type of thing. Mental mediums are common in the paranormal world. What sets some of us apart is the degree to which we have honed our skills.” He tapped my shoulder. “You, on the other hand, have completely different mediumship skills at your disposal—skills I probably would never develop even if I tried.”

“Besides the ability to make albino juggernauts morph into a puff of smoke?” I joked.

“In addition to that, Killer.”

“This shit is nuts, man,” Cooper muttered, then gulped down some whiskey. “It makes no damned sense.”

“Physical mediums are extremely rare these days,” Doc continued in spite of Cooper’s skepticism, “partly because of the bad press they received in the past when displaying their skills in public. See, when you’re working your magic, anyone who is in the area—duds or not—can witness the results. It’s more ‘real,’
physical
. It explains why when you sit in at a séance, shit is more likely to actually hit the fan, endangering you and for that matter anyone nearby.”

I touched the faint scar on my chest. “Like what happened in Ms. Wolff’s apartment that night?”

Doc nodded. “And Coop’s injury during our séance out at Harvey’s barn.”

A scoff came from Cooper’s direction. “I knew it. Parker’s going to be the death of me yet. The broken nose was foreplay.”

I would have shot something snappy back if his words hadn’t echoed what Prudence had said to me earlier about the “lawman” dying if I didn’t step up and take over hunting Wanda’s killer. Cooper was often a burr in my skivvies, but I didn’t want anything to happen to him or anyone else on Deadwood’s police force for that matter. Not even … well … no, not even Hawke.

I focused back on Doc. “And you believe Prudence is a physical medium, too?”

“I suspect she was one when she was alive.”

“You think that it’s part of the skillset that comes with being an executioner?”

“I don’t know the answer to that. I’ve only met two of you so far—and one of you almost stopped my heart the first time we collided.”

“That day in the upstairs bedroom with Prudence?”

“Who says I was talking about the ghost?” He winked.

“Ahhh, Gomez. I’ve missed you so,
mon cher.
” I winked back, slipping into my Morticia Addams’ role.

“
Cara mía
, that’s French!” Doc growled playfully and lifted my hand, kissing my knuckles. A twinkle shined in the depths of his gaze as his lips made their way up my forearm.

“Jesus, you two.” Cooper groaned at us from across the table. “You’re making my eyes bleed with this lovey-dovey crap. Can we get back to the fucked-up, real world shit going on here in Deadwood?”

“Technically,” I told the scowling detective as Doc lowered my arm, “we were in Lead not Deadwood when Prudence turned you into Pinocchio.”

“Zip it, Parker.” To Doc, he said, “Why do you think Prudence was a physical medium when she was alive?”

“As I was saying before, her strength and ability to manipulate the living are extremely uncommon. If she was a physical medium back when she was alive, she would’ve learned these skills she’s now using on the living to interact with the other beings she was meant to kill.”