Dead Case in Deadwood (35 page)

"How can you know that for sure?"

"Both had the same masks as Prudence’s killers.

"The potato sacks with the eyes cut out." I
remembered this detail from when Doc had told me the story of Prudence’s
horrific death, which he’d relived from her point-of-view during a vision—or
whatever it was he experienced.

"Yes, those masks."

I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine the terror Prudence or
the prostitute must have felt. "Why did they kill the girl upstairs?"
I asked.

"I’m not sure yet. I need to replay it in my head a few
more times."

I nodded. I knew from before that this was how Doc worked,
letting things soak in, picking up more details as he peeled back the layers.

"But there is another thing that ties her killers to
Prudence besides the masks," he said.

"What?"

"They pulled the girl’s canine teeth out with a pair of
pliers."

Again with the teeth. Had her teeth been in the collection
from the Carhart attic that I’d handed off to Cooper? "That is so creepy
weird. Why would they take her teeth?"

"I don’t know, but she wasn’t dead yet when the
bastards yanked them out."

"Jesus," I whispered staring back at him. Was experiencing
that part of the vision what had made him stop breathing for a moment back in
the stairwell?

My cell phone rang, startling a gasp from me. I checked my
phone, seeing my mom’s name.

"I have to take this," I told Doc and answered the
call. "Hi, Mom. You want me to come get the kids?"

"No need, dear. They’re at Zoe’s right now. Your sister
drove them home."

"She’s in Deadwood?" My jaw tightened at the
thought of my kids riding in a car with
her
. "Well, that explains
the doom and gloom that’s settled over the town this afternoon."

"Cute, Violet, but I’ve heard enough out of you about
your sister." She sniffed, as if that was the final word on the subject.

But it wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

"I need to talk to you about something serious,"
Mom told me.

"What?"

"Adelynn told me about your new boyfriend."

My heart picked up speed. How did
she
know?

I looked over at Doc, who was leaning against the headrest
with his eyes closed. His hair still damp from the rain. "My new
boyfriend?"

He opened one eyelid, his head turning my way.

"And while I know it’s none of my business," my
mom continued, "I am concerned about Layne’s reaction to this
announcement."

"What did Layne say?"

"He denied it rather vehemently. And when Addy refused
to take back her words on the subject, he hit her."

"Where and how hard?"

"On the mouth. He made her lip bleed."

"Oh, shit."

Both of Doc’s eyes were now focused on me.

"Have you talked to Layne about his feelings on a new
man in your life?"

"Sort of." Just yesterday we’d touched on the
subject.

"I think you’re going to have to talk to him some more
if you’re going to keep seeing this Jeff Wymonds guy."

Jeff Wymonds?
Addy was at her matchmaking game again.
It turned out both kids were going to need a talking to in order to straighten
everything out. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I don’t have a new boyfriend named Jeff Wymonds, Mom."
And that was the honest truth.

Doc reached over and brushed his fingers over the back of my
neck, his hand lingering there, massaging.

"Addy seemed pretty definite about it," my mom
said. "When I suggested that it wasn’t nice to tell tall tales, she swore
she’d seen you kissing this Jeff guy."

"She did see us kissing, only it was him kissing me,
and it wasn’t at all what she thought." It was more like Jeff trying to
get into the
Guinness Book of World Records
for how far he could stick
his tongue down an esophagus—my esophagus. "I have told her that multiple
times. She’s just not listening."

"Sounds like another hard-headed girl I know."

"I’ll take that as a compliment,
Mother
."

Mom chuckled. "All right. I just wanted to let you know
why Addy has a split lip."

"Thanks. I’m sorry you had to deal with that."

"They’re my grandchildren, Violet. I expect life to be
messy when they’re around. It’s all part of the fun."

"I appreciate you keeping them overnight." Even if
the Wicked Witch of the West had been under the same roof as them. I’d needed
the time alone with Doc, whose hands were currently working magic, turning my
neck and shoulders into finger Jello.

"Any time, dear."

"I’ll call you in a couple of days after the kids get
settled into school."

"Okay. Oh, and Violet," Mom caught me before I
hung up. "It’s okay if you do have a boyfriend. I’d like to see you happy
again someday."

"I am happy," I insisted.

I was actually very happy at the moment, on the verge of
being positively tingly thanks to Doc’s massage. As long as I didn’t think too
much about anything outside of this pickup cab, my life was charmed—all moons,
stars, green clovers, and purple horseshoes.

"If you say so. Just be careful. You don’t have the
best track record with men."

"Thank you for that loving reminder, Mommy Dearest."

I hung up before she decided to go into detail on my spotty
past when it came to the opposite sex. I didn’t have that many minutes left on
my cell phone plan this month to cover it all.

"Wymonds deserves solid marks for trying," Doc
said, "don’t you think?"

"Beh!" I answered and started the Picklemobile.

Pulling up behind Doc’s office, I let the pickup sputter, otherwise
referred to as idling. "I need to go home and see my kids." And then
whip them with wet noodles.

He nodded. "You want me to pick you up for the séance?"

"You still want to go after what happened today?"

"Of course. Now you have an actual ghost to channel."

That was still up for debate in my book.

"I’ll go dig around in the library," he continued,
"and see if I can come up with a name to go with the murder scene."

"Don’t you need to rest or something after what
happened?"

"I’m fine."

The lines around his eyes told another story, but I didn’t
argue.

He caught my hand. "You pulled me out of that before it
sucked me totally under"

"What’s that mean?"

"She wasn’t dead yet when you pinched me."

"Have you ever had that happen before? Been pulled out
early?"

"Yes, but not for a long time." He lifted my hand
to his lips and kissed my knuckles. "How about you just pick me up here
tonight."

I nodded, still feeling the warmth of his lips on my skin.
I’d rather go back to his house and let him make me forget all about the
séance.

He stepped down from the Picklemobile, shooting me a wink
before disappearing into his office.

Five minutes later, I parked in Aunt Zoe’s drive next to her
truck. Both kids were playing in the front yard. Elvis the chicken watched from
her regal roost in the shade on the porch.

There was no sign of my sister to be found—no bubbling
cauldrons, no flying monkeys, no unhappy little people—well, not counting Layne
and his worried frown when he caught sight of me. Heck, even the dark, ominous
thunderheads had floated away. Oz was happy again, and the Good Witch Glinda
was home to lecture the munchkins and threaten them with a life of slavery if
the fighting didn’t stop, pronto. If only I had one of those cool star wands
and a field of poppies to roll around in.

Addy was at the Picklemobile’s door before the old truck
stopped burping and belching and booming.

"Hi, Mom!" She said around a thick wad of gum. "Look
what Layne did to me. I sure hope you’re gonna tan his hide to teach him a
lesson about hitting girls."

Wow, she didn’t even let my boots touch the dirt before lobbying
for a beating.

I slammed the pickup door and tipped Addy’s chin up for a
closer inspection. Layne had done a bang up job on her mouth.

"It really hurts," she said and blew a pink, fruity-smelling
bubble in my face.

I popped her bubble. "Yeah, I can see how miserable you
are."

When I glanced over at Layne, he was busy poking a stick in
the flowerbed all of the sudden. I sighed, my heart panging a little. The poor
kid was battling his own demons.

Damned Rex Conner for running off and leaving me to raise a
son without a father. For the first time in years, guilt burned in my chest.
Writing Rex off for good had been the right thing to do, I reminded myself. A
sperm donor did not a good father make.

"Okay, everybody inside right now. We need to have a
family meeting at the kitchen table."

"Oh, man," Layne moaned and trudged inside.

"But I didn’t do anything wrong," Addy whined.

I turned her around and nudged her toward the front door. "Go,
Adelynn Renee. Now."

Complaining the whole way, she followed her brother inside
and stomped all of the way into the kitchen.

Aunt Zoe was leaning against the counter cutting up lemons
when the three of us plopped down in our usual dinnertime places. Home sweet
home—the land of fresh lemonade and a molting chicken.

"You must have seen Addy’s lip," Aunt Zoe said to
me.

Nodding, I looked specifically at Layne. "Let’s hear
your side of the story."

"I asked her to stop saying you were marrying Kelly’s
dad," he said, his big hazel eyes pleading his case. "But she
wouldn’t be quiet."

"You didn’t ask," Addy swooped in with her
rebuttal. "You yelled at me to shut my big fat mouth, and then hauled off
and hit me."

"Did not!" he bellowed

"Did, too!" she bellowed back.

"Both of you knock it off," I snapped, nailing
each of them with a silencing glare in turn. "The three of us need to get
something straight here and now. Jeff Wymonds is
not
my boyfriend."

Addy frowned. "But you kissed—"

"There is no ‘but,’ Adelynn. He is not my boyfriend, understand?

"Maybe someday you’ll—" she tried again.

"Nor will he ever be my boyfriend." When she
opened her mouth, I repeated, "Ever."

"How can you be so sure?" Layne asked.

I pondered my answer for a moment. I thought about all of
the philosophical ways of explaining the concept of everlasting love, the
essential ingredient that was supposed to go with marriage, at least in my
world.

While I was busy pondering, Layne flipped his eyelids inside
out and grinned at his sister. Addy giggled and tried to do the same back.

At that point, I realized I was putting way too much thought
into my response and answered, "I’m sure because when Jeff kissed me it
grossed me out."

Addy leaned closer, her forearms resting on the table. "Did
he French you?"

My face warmed. Addy must have picked that up from the TV or
one of her friends.

"What does ‘French you’ mean?" Layne asked.

I left that answer to Addy, curious to hear how much she really
knew.

Aunt Zoe walked over, joining us while she dried her hands.

"It’s when a boy licks your lips," Addy said with
a confident nod.

"Ewww," both Layne and Aunt Zoe replied.

In that case, "No, he didn’t French me, Adelynn."

Addy lowered her chin onto her arms. "That blows, Mom. I
wanted Kelly as a sister."

"I know, sweetie." I ruffled her hair. "But
you’ll have to settle for having her as a really good friend for the rest of
your life."

"Like you and Natalie?" Addy asked.

"Yes, like me and Nat."

Until Natalie found out about me and Doc.

She wanted to get married.
I heard Doc’s voice repeat
his earlier comment about Tiffany in my thoughts.

Change that answer to IF Natalie ever found out about us.

After learning that Tiffany had wanted to get married and
Doc had left without looking back, I was back to where I’d started when it came
to Doc and me—torn, unsure, wanting to hide under my bed.

Two pairs of eyes watching me reminded me that I still had
an audience. It was time to adjourn this family meeting.

I turned to Layne. "I don’t like it when you hit your
sister like that. It’s rude, mean, and unacceptable. If I catch either of you
hitting each other like this again, I won’t let you watch television for two
weeks."

"Two weeks!" Addy moaned.

"I’ll just read in my room," Layne told me with a hint
of stubbornness.

I leaned closer to him, squinting in emphasis. "Not if
I ban you from books."

"You wouldn’t dare," Layne whispered.

"How’s that going to work with school starting, Mom?"
Addy asked. "Does that mean we won’t have to do any homework?"

"Don’t push it, child." I reached over and squeezed
both of their shoulders. "Now give me a kiss, and then go outside and
play. I need to talk to Aunt Zoe alone."

"Is it about a new man?" Addy whispered.

"Let it go, Adelynn."

They each kissed me on the cheek, and then scrambled out the
back door.

Aunt Zoe joined me at the table as the dust settled. "When
are you going to tell them about Doc?" she asked.

"I don’t know."

She wanted to get married.

"How did it go with him last night?"

In-freaking-credible. "Good."

"You didn’t come home."

"I fell asleep there."

"Any nightmares?"

"No. I slept like the dead." Doc’s bed or sleeping
pills—both remedies for my insomnia came with worrisome side-effects.

"So, things are all patched up between you two?"
she asked.

"Yes, we’re fine."

She wanted to get married.

Aunt Zoe took a drink of lemonade, watching me over the rim
with those damned all-seeing eyes of hers. I looked down at my hands, fidgeting
with the Picklemobile’s smiley-face key chain.