Dead Case in Deadwood (39 page)

I had wanted to distract them, not psychologically damage
them. After two kids, my fun bags had sagged into sad sacks.

"That would distract me plenty," Doc continued.

"But that wouldn’t have helped
you
, though."

"As opposed to how much giving me a black eye was
helping."

I scoffed. "I didn’t give you a black eye."

But he was right. I had. The blue-purple bruise was
spreading north, circling under his eye. Shiznit. I’d miscalculated my aim.

He grinned. "Morticia Addams gave me a black eye. How
fitting. Gomez would be turned on by that."

No comment. I jammed the key in the ignition and revved the
engine.

"What’s next, Tish? Whips and chains? A vice clamp?
Electrocution?"

"You should be so lucky." I backed out of the
stall and turned onto the street. "Where to?"

"Home, please."

I nodded. "So, what do you think? Is Cornelius a ghost
whisperer like he claims?"

Doc didn’t answer. When I checked on him, he was frowning
out the front window, rubbing the back of his arm—the one I’d pinched.

"A ghost whisperer," Doc repeated, as if rolling
the title around on his tongue to see how it tasted. "He wasn’t doing much
whispering, just chanting."

True.

I made a right, heading toward Doc’s place. "You know,
that was all he did last time, too," I told him. "It’s what put me to
sleep."

More silence from Doc, his hand still rubbing his arm. I had
the feeling his mind was still processing tonight’s events, his hard drive
chugging.

I turned left up into the Presidential District. A couple of
minutes later, I pulled up in front of his house.

"But it was after his chanting began that I started
feeling funky," he said as if there’d been no pause in the conversation.

"I thought the prostitute was already in the room by
then."

"Make that funkier." He pushed his sleeve up and
turned his arm, peering at his skin in the dim lights from the dashboard. "Violet,
why do I have a big bruise on my arm?"

Yeah, about that
… "Maybe you hit something when
you fell."

I could feel his eyes on me. "Where else am I going to
find bruises?"

Opting for distraction by seduction this time, I reached
over and ran my fingers up his inseam. "Who knows, but I could kiss them
all better."

His hand stopped mine before I reached pay dirt. "Tempting,
Boots. But you can’t finish what you start."

Was that a challenge? "Oh, but I can."

"Not tonight you can’t."

"Why not?" Did he know something I didn’t?

"Your kids are waiting at home."

I knew that, but after ten years of always being there for
them every night, a little separation time was good for all of us. At least
that was what Aunt Zoe had informed me when I first moved in with her months
ago and resisted her initial babysitting offers.

"Yeah," I said, "but we could be quick."

"I don’t want quick, Violet. Not after the other night."

The night I stayed over? What was he saying? Had I been bad in
the sack? No, I was pretty sure he enjoyed himself, too, even if our actual
sack-time
had been more like wall-time. So, what then? I was afraid to read too much into
his words, especially after he’d left Tiffany for reading him all wrong.

"Okay. So, where do we go from here?" I asked,
which was my brilliantly subtle way of asking him if he was falling for me as
hard as I was for him without actually putting my heart on the line.

"Well, about that." He paused for a gut-wrenching
couple of seconds. "I’ve been thinking, and—"

My goddamned, freaking cell phone rang.

"Ignore that." I grabbed it, saw Cooper’s name, hissed
at it, and hit the reject-call button. "You were saying?"

He raised one eyebrow. "Who was that?"

"Cooper."

The other eyebrow lifted. "Why would Detective Cooper
be calling you at this time of night?"

There was no jealousy in his tone, at least none that I
could detect. It sounded more like curiosity.

I thought about the last time I’d talked to Cooper, which
had been with Harvey acting as mediator, and shrugged. "I don’t know. It’s
probably about the head. What were you going to say?"

"The head? What head? The corpse’s head?"

"Yeah. So, what were you thinking about regarding you
and me?"

"The corpse’s head?" He sat upright, frowning at
me. "What about it?"

"They found it." Who cares about the head? I
wanted to know what Doc was thinking about us.

"What? Why didn’t you tell me they found the head?"

"I don’t know. I guess I was distracted by the pending
séance." Getting through the whole séance had been front and center in my
thoughts since I heard the news, which wasn’t much yet thanks to Cooper’s
unwillingness to let Harvey tell me more on the phone.

"Who else knows about the head?" Doc asked, his
tone a little terse.

How should I know? "Harvey, Aunt Zoe, the Deadwood
Police Department, maybe Reid," if Cooper shared information with him. "Oh,
and Natalie." I’d texted her about it before I’d hopped in the shower to
prepare for the séance.

Doc opened his mouth, acted as if he was going to say something,
but didn’t and pressed his lips together instead, shaking his head. Then he
removed my hand from his thigh and pushed open his door. Before I could do more
than gasp in surprise at his abrupt departure, he shut the door behind him.

I shoved open my door and poked my head out between the cab
and window frame. "What are you doing?" I asked as he rounded the
front of the pickup and walked toward his front porch.

He turned around, walking backward. "Go home, Violet."
He sounded disappointed on top of tired.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary. I’m just starting to get fed
up with being the low man on your totem pole. Especially after tonight’s fun
and games."

Speechless, I watched him climb the porch steps, unlock his
front door, and disappear inside without even a wave goodbye.

But, but, but …
He was not the low man on my pole.

"No fair," I said, my chest burning from the
frustration. He’d sidetracked me with that comment about him thinking about us,
and then he didn’t even give me a chance to explain how little I knew about the
whole head thing.

I sank back into the driver’s seat.

"No fucking fair!" I yelled and beat the crap out
of the steering wheel.

Wednesday, August 22nd

"Mom," Addy’s voice echoed in my head. "Mom,
wake up."

I opened my eyes and stared into her light brown eyes just
inches from mine. Her head rested on my pillow, her smile as bright as the
sunshine streaming in from the window behind her. She smelled like bubblegum ice
cream, all sweet and innocent. A chicken feather was stuck in her hair, fluttering
ever so slightly.

She reached out and traced my forehead. "Why are you in
my bed, Momma?"

Her bed?

Then I remembered yesterday in a rapid-fire slideshow—me at Doc’s
place, Cornelius in jail, lunch with Cooper, news about the kids’ father, the
stairwell with Doc, the séance disaster, Doc and my totem pole, Natalie’s sleep
monologue, my insomnia, and finally Addy’s bed—a soft-sheeted refuge guarded by
teddy bears.

"Oh, crudmongers." I covered my eyes, groaning. My
life was tangled up into such a big clusterfuck.

Addy snuggled into me, her cast digging into my ribs a
little, her blonde hair making my nose itch. I blew the chicken feather free.

"Did you come in here because something scared you?"
she asked.

I thought about Doc and the way my chest had ached last
night after his rejection. "Yes."

"Were you afraid of being all alone in the dark?"

Of just being all alone, dark or light. "Definitely."

"Me, too, sometimes." She trailed her fingers down
my arm, tickling me, and then looked up at me. "Me and Elvis will always
be here to keep you company, Momma."

I watched her blink, soaking up her words. She was
right—well, so long as I didn’t manage to psychologically damage her until she
hated my guts and wrote a screenplay titled,
Mommy Dearest II
. No matter
what happened with Doc and Natalie, with my job, with anything, I’d always have
Addy and Layne to kiss it better and make everything all right.

I squeezed her against me. "You promise, Adelynn?"

"Cross my heart," she mumbled into my old T-shirt.

"Good." I threw the sheets back and lowered my
feet to the floor. "Let’s go eat some breakfast."

I needed to catch Natalie before she left for work. Addy’s
promise prompted me to get busy on something I’d been putting off.

Then, I wanted to get into the office. On the phone with me
last night at eleven thirty-two on the dot, Cornelius had agreed to add thirty
thousand dollars to his previous offer, coming in at fifteen grand more than
Ray and George. I planned to have our new offer in Tiffany’s hand as soon as
she entered her office this morning.

Downstairs, Aunt Zoe and Layne were at the breakfast table
planning how to spend the kids’ last day of summer vacation. I scooped up and
pretty much inhaled a banana nut muffin from the dozen cooling on the counter,
agreed to join them all for a picnic later out at Pactola Dam, and then headed
up the stairs to catch Natalie. She was brushing her wavy brown tresses in the
bathroom when I found her.

I leaned against the doorjamb and watched her in the mirror.
It was kind of a déjà vu moment, replaying the same scene from many years
throughout our past as we preened to go out to eat, drink, party, or just
complain about life and men. Only today’s version came with more of a
melancholy feel due to what I needed to tell her. There was no way to go about
this without hurting her feelings.

"Hey, you," she said, pointing the brush at me in
the mirror. "You left me all alone again last night. Where did you end up?"

"Addy’s bed."

"
Ay Chihuahua
. She kicks hard."

"Yeah, but Layne plays rugby in his sleep."

"Pick your bruiser, eh?" She exchanged her hair
brush for her toothbrush.

Unsure where to begin, I just blurted out. "I think
it’s time for me to fly solo at night."

She paused in the midst of brushing her teeth and grinned at
me in the mirror, looking like a rabid beauty queen. "If that’s your way
of saying you want time alone with a vibrator," she said through a mouth
full of toothpaste, "don’t let me get in your way. Go to town."

I chuckled in spite of my apprehension about my task.

"Although," she paused to spit in the sink, "I’m
sure Detective Cooper would be happy to perform some
community service
on
you if you’d just ask."

I rolled my eyes. "Nat, Cooper isn’t into me."

"Not yet, but he could be after two shots of tequila to
loosen you up and a ribbed-for-your-pleasure condom."

I winced at just the notion of sex with Cooper. I’d be scarred
for life. I meant really, truly scarred. With all of the sharp points and rough
edges on him, I’d show less wear after skinny dipping with a Great White.

"Let me rephrase that. I’m not into Cooper."

"You should at least try a taste before you make that
decision."

Here it was suddenly in my face, a golden opportunity to
tell her I’d already tried Doc and wanted to savor him and only him—if he’d
still let me. I crossed my arms over my chest, squeezing tight in preparation
for her to go all Medusa on me. "Natalie, there’s something I need to tell
you."

"I know, I know. Don’t waste your breath."

My mouth fell open. "You do?"

"Yes. I’m not an idiot. I’ve been waiting for you to
come to me for days and just say it."

She’d known for days? She wasn’t bawling her eyes out and
wanting to stab me with a fork? We must be talking about a different "something."
To clarify, I asked, "Just say what in particular?"

"That you want me to move out."

"I do?" I mentally slapped my forehead, tires
squealing as I whipped a U-turn and changed course again. "I mean, yes, I
do."

"It’s about my sleep talking, isn’t it?"

"No, it’s just time for me to figure out a different
way of dealing with this insomnia. You’ve been a wonderful friend and I
appreciate having you by my side, but the kids are starting school tomorrow and
I want to start a new routine here—one with only them and me."

Okay, new game plan: first, get her out of the house, then
tell her about Doc and me on neutral ground where she can’t smother me with my
own pillow.

She nodded. "That makes sense. Where does your aunt fit
in?"

"She’ll do whatever I ask when it comes to the kids."
Which would be to just continue being herself at the moment—and keep the
cookies and muffins coming.

"Alrighty, then." She shot me a smile that barely
reached the corners of her mouth. "I’ll be out tonight."

My heart panged a little at her hurt expression. "Natalie,
you’re not disappearing from our lives, you’re just returning to yours."

"I know." She slipped past me through the
doorframe, her booted leg thumping toward my bedroom. She added over her
shoulder, "It’s just going to be a little lonely at first."

I followed her into my room. "Just think, your own
bathroom, your own bed. You’ll have total privacy again. I’m going to be grinding
my teeth with envy, you lucky duck."

"Ha! That reminds me of the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’
speech the last jerk who broke up with me preached." She grabbed her work
cowboy hat off the bedpost. "I’m the jealous one. You don’t see where
you’re lucky."

"The grass is always greener," I admitted. I
caught her forearm as she passed by me. "Stay for supper tonight?"

She squeezed my hand. "Sure. We can toast to our
breakup, and then I’ll head home with my broken heart in my hat." She
tipped said hat at me. "I’ll still be here whenever you need me, you know."