A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7) (38 page)

What was this? First Rex, now Susan? Who would be joining us next at our fucked up family get together? “Susan, how’d you manage to slip past the demons guarding the gates of Hell this afternoon?”

She shrugged off her long coat, unveiling a pair of thigh high black boots, a skimpy black leather skirt and a very low cut glitter-infused sweater.

I scoffed. Where had she learned how to dress? A comic book?

“Hello, Rex,” she positively purred, her focus zeroing in on him like she had a warhead ready to fire. “Long time no see.”

Not long enough.

Then it hit me—Susan must have known Rex was here. Why else would she show up dressed like she was scouting for stripper poles to wrap her legs around? How did she find out he was in town? Had Natalie let it slip?

“Do you see a woman in black?” Cornelius whispered to me.

“Unfortunately I do.”

“Did you bring her here from another realm?”

“No, but I’d like to send her to another universe.”

“Ah, that hurts, big sis.” Susan pouted, her red glossy lips puffing out for added effect. She leaned back against Ben’s desk. Her skirt inched northward, showing off plenty of her long, pale thighs for Rex’s benefit. “And here I thought you’d see this as a potential
menage à trois
opportunity.”

Ewww. “Now you’re just being gross on purpose, Susan.”

She giggled. “You know me well.”

Way too well. “You’d prefer to steal him from me.”

“It’s more fun than sharing.”

“She really means that,” I told Cornelius.

He glanced back and forth between Susan and me. “I’m struggling to see the genetic similarities.”

“Susan.” Rex collected himself, his face darkening as he eyed her legs. “How did you find me?”

“Violet told me you were here.” She pulled her shoulders back, shoving her perky mini-globes out for a better world view.

“That’s a lie,” I told Rex.

“She said you’d mentioned me, wondering how I was doing.”

“Another lie.” Although I did remember discussing something about Susan and Rex’s history with the bastard.

“Ah ha! I’ve found it,” Cornelius said. “You have the same mouth—heart shaped with the thicker lower lip.”

“They kiss the same, too,” Rex offered with a smirk.

“Nobody asked for your feedback, Professor Ass-hat.”

Rex arched his blond brows. “Although I suspect Violet has more of a wanton, wild animal boldness during sex these days. You can see the passion in her eyes when she’s angry at me, like right now.”

All eyes shifted to me. My face heated about four hundred degrees in a flash. Talking about my sexual habits in front of Rex and my sister was torture enough, but having Cornelius witness my humiliation had me choked up on a ball of fiery rage.

“That’s not passion,” I spoke through clenched teeth.

“It looks more like stark raving madness to me,” Cornelius said. “I once looked into the eyes of an angry hippo that appeared less hostile than Violet at this moment.”

I sighed. Did he have to compare me to a hippo in front of my sister, the long-legged gazelle?

“Hippo,” Susan laughed. “How appropriate.”

“Sticks and stones, you stupid strumpet.”

“Is that from a nursery rhyme?” Cornelius asked.

Susan lifted her chin. “Rex, maybe you need to run another experiment.” She eyed my sapphire sweater dress with a wrinkled upper lip. “You already have a baseline with Violet.”

I was a baseline? For what? Sex with Rex? That had been so long ago that … Then it hit me. Susan somehow must have gotten the idea that Rex and I were back together.

I held my fist to my mouth, torn about current events. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of Susan’s confusion, but at the same time I was tempted to take a swing at her for coming to steal Rex from me yet again. Apparently one round of debauchery was not enough for the sadistic hussy.

“How did you know Rex was here in my office, Susan?”

“I didn’t. I was coming to see you.”

“In that outfit? Did your pimp send you here? Who’s manning your street corner?”

“Tut tut, big sis. Jealousy does not become you. Neither does that color of blue, truth be told.”

A red haze of rage blurred my vision. How becoming would I look when I jumped on her back and beat the hell out of her with my boot?

Wait! An idea bubble formed and popped in my head. Maybe there was a way to derail Rex while distracting Susan from finding out who was really sharing my bed. I had to try.

“There she is, Rex.” I pointed at Susan.

“Your sister? What do you mean?”

“You were wondering who’s been prank calling you and messing with your car, right? Susan’s surprise visit here confirms it—she’s your troublemaker.”

Come to think of it, I’d lost track of his business card around the time she’d shown up at Aunt Zoe’s front door and spent the night. Had she gone through my purse when I wasn’t looking? I wouldn’t put it past the scheming bitch. What else had she taken?

Susan’s claws extended. “You lying fat cow!”

“She knows you’ve come back for me, Rex.” I continued feeding the fire. “She’s jealous.”

History was repeating itself before my very eyes. Wasn’t this a banner moment for all?

“She is?” Rex’s mouth was catching flies.

“Yes, but Susan doesn’t realize that you and I are not lovers.” I stepped around my desk and latched onto Cornelius’s arm. “That I’ve given myself to another man.”

Rex’s gaze narrowed. “I knew it!”

“As Cornelius said earlier, we have a very intimate relationship.” We shared a terrorizing ghost who was bent on ending both our lives.

Abe Jr. looked down at me with one cocked eyebrow. “What about Thanksgiving, Violet?”

Dammit, he had me over a barrel and he knew it. Today had shown me something—Cornelius was clearly not as obtuse as he so often played.

I gave Susan a fake smile. “Good news! I won’t be able to make it to Thanksgiving dinner this year. Cornelius has promised me a night to remember.”

Chapter Eighteen

Sunday, November 18th

I was sitting on the edge of my bed the next morning, staring down at my hands, when Aunt Zoe’s voice interrupted my worrying.

“Ten fingers and ten toes,” she said from the doorway. “I counted them right after you came out of the womb.”

That made me smile. Aunt Zoe had been there when I’d taken my first gasp of oxygen. She liked to joke that she’d been putting up with my screaming and hollering ever since.

“Willis has breakfast almost ready.”

Harvey had played bodyguard from the couch again all night, snoring loudly enough to scare away any non-humans within a ten mile radius.

“What’s he making?” It smelled sweet and lemony.

“A Dutch Baby. He says it’s his momma’s secret recipe, so he kicked me out as soon as I set the table.”

I almost drooled. “Damn! I see another marriage proposal to the old buzzard in my future.”

She walked over and joined me on the edge of the bed. “Another?”

“I asked Harvey to marry me last month when he made us meatloaf, but he turned me down. He said I was too nutty for him.”

She chuckled. “You want to call Doc and have him join us?”

“No way.”

Her forehead pinched. “Did something happen?”

“No, we’re fine, but I don’t want to share any of that Dutch Baby with him.”

That made her guffaw. “And here I thought you were ga-ga for him.”

“Oh, I am, but I draw the line at sharing a Dutch Baby until there’s a ring on my finger.” I leaned back on my palms. “How’s the glass order coming? Are you getting close to being done?”

“Another day or two and I’ll have everything ready. The money will make for a nice Christmas bonus.”

Christmas. That reminded me of another holiday. “I have bad news.” I winced in anticipation of her reaction. “I’m not going to Thanksgiving at my parents’ place this year.”

“Is this due to that silly stunt Susan pulled?”

As soon as I’d made it home from work yesterday, I’d raced out to Aunt Zoe’s workshop, locking out the rest of the world while I’d ranted and raved about my sister and Rex in the nakedly conjoined position. Aunt Zoe had listened with first a look of disbelief and then anger on her face that mirrored my feelings.

“No, it’s because Cornelius wants to have the séance to rid himself of Wilda on Thanksgiving night. It’s a new moon, which he believes will give us a better chance of success.”

“Did you remind him it’s Thanksgiving?”

“Yes, but he informed me that since I don’t share DNA with any of the pilgrims, my celebrating the holiday was an unnecessary extravagance, especially with his sanity on the line.”

“I thought his sanity was long gone.”

“Me too. However, after the way he helped me diffuse the Rex situation yesterday and then acted as my stand-in boyfriend to throw Susan off Doc’s scent, I’m beginning to think his eccentricities may be part of an act.”

“Why would he act so odd?”

I shrugged. “Maybe to keep a buffer between him and anyone who might get too close and become an emotional risk. With his paranormal history, he may prefer to keep his distance from most folks who might not accept him and his lifestyle.”

“Could be,” Aunt Zoe said with a slow nod. “What about the kids? Won’t they miss you being there with them at the Thanksgiving table?”

“I don’t know. I called Mom last night to get a lay of the land and she told me she has a surprise guest.”

“Who?”

“Someone who’ll make the kids’ forget I exist for the day.”

Aunt Zoe gasped. “Your brother?”

“Yep. Quint is flying home for a few days from whatever corner of the planet he’s working in at the moment.”

My brother’s career as a freelance photojournalist for several well-known magazines kept him on the go most months. Both of my kids adored him and the trinkets he always brought them from his travels. The last time he’d come home had been March when he’d helped me move some of my stuff up to Deadwood.

“Isn’t he heading down to Mexico soon? Seems like I remember your dad mentioning something about a Maya site.”

“Not yet. I think he has some gig in Canada first.”

“Your kids are going to be so excited to see him, especially Layne.”

“I know.” I sighed. “I wish I could see him, too, but I need to deal with Wilda.”

She squeezed my shoulder. “You and I can pretend you are under the weather Thanksgiving morning, and I’ll take the kids down without you. Maybe you can catch your brother before he flies out again.”

“Maybe, if Wilda doesn’t take me out of the game.”

“Violet, you’re an executioner.”

“Executioners can have heart attacks. If you could see that melted clown doll of hers, you’d be worried about your ticker, too.” I shuddered.

She took me by the chin. “Don’t you dare let that little girl and her damned clown mess with your head. You are stronger and smarter than she is.”

“But she’s evil, and evil trumps strength.”

“Maybe so, but executioners can outsmart evil. You need to listen to Doc, let him be your teacher, and whatever you do,
don’t
leave his side this time.” She released my chin and stood. “Now, are you hungry or not?”

I reached for my robe. “What are you going to say if Dad sniffs out the truth on Thanksgiving Day?”

“I’ll explain that you have family business to take care of. After I add that what we’ve been waiting for all of these years has finally awoken inside of you, he’ll understand.”

I found it hard to believe my father would swallow that watermelon-sized announcement without choking on it. My face must have showed my doubt because she added, “He won’t like it, but—”

The sound of a chicken squawking loudly outside of my window stopped her mid-sentence. We swapped frowns.

“Is that Elvis?” I rushed over to the window, pulling back the curtains.

Aunt Zoe was on my heels, her face pressed against the window next to mine. “What is that silly bird doing in the tree?”

No sooner had the words exited Aunt Zoe’s mouth then Elvis the chicken flew-hopped up to yet a higher gnarled branch in the old cottonwood tree in front of the house. When the feathers stopped flying, Elvis was almost eye level with us.

“That damned bird must be a good twenty-five feet off the ground,” I muttered. My gaze lowered. A growl followed. “What are those two barefoot children doing outside in their pajamas without coats? Don’t they have a lick of sense?”

As I pounded on the window, trying to get Addy and Layne’s attention, Reid Martin’s red dually pickup truck pulled up in front of the house. He parked at the curb, smiling at my two nincompoops as he came around the back of his pickup.

Several unladylike curses flew from Aunt Zoe’s mouth as we watched Reid lift a ladder out of the truck’s bed.

“What’s he …” I started to ask, and then realized what was going on. “Oh jeez, he’s come to save the chicken. Please tell me Addy didn’t call 911 about this.” The snickering and nicknames that would ensue would rival the jokes that flew my way when Jeff Wymonds’s garage roof blew up during my open house.

We watched Harvey head out to meet Reid at the end of the sidewalk, pointing up at the chicken when he put his arm around Addy’s shoulders.

“It wasn’t Addy,” Aunt Zoe said.

“How do you know?”

“Because only Reid showed up, not any of his crew. My money’s on Willis. He must have called him to come over and play fireman.”

“That’s fast service. You were just down in the kitchen with Harvey not ten minutes ago.”

“Reid always was Johnny-on-the-spot when it came to damsels in distress.” She snorted, adding under her breath, “Especially when the fire he needed to put out was in my bed.”

I didn’t know what to say in response to that, so I kept my big mouth shut and watched as Reid extended the ladder and leaned it against the tree’s trunk. He put his weight on the first rung, shifting around, testing the ladder’s stability.

Aunt Zoe growled. “He’s going to break his neck rescuing that chicken.”

“Harvey’s holding the base.”

“Yeah, but Reid weighs more than Harvey.” She stepped back from the window. “I’m going down there.”

I threw on jeans and a T-shirt and followed her down the stairs, scooping up my red pea coat on the way out the front door. “Addy and Layne,” I hollered from the top porch step. “Go inside and put on some warmer clothes.”