An Ex to Grind in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 5) Paperback – September 4, 2014 (47 page)

“No way,” I told Doc, who joined me at the counter, his plate in hand. “He’ll never believe us. And even if he did consider what we tell him, he’d wonder how we know this and the truth about you would come out.”

Doc sliced off a piece of chicken. “I’m beginning to wonder if we should be more concerned if truths about
you
surfaced.”

“Which truths?”

“All of them—Rex, Prudence, the demon book, the mirror trip, and who knows what else.” Doc stabbed the chicken piece. “Next to you, big tuna, I might be a minnow.”

We chewed on that in silence for a couple of chicken bites. Then I remembered a question that had come to me in the middle of the night during Addy’s earache. “How did you get back inside the greaser’s head? He was already dead when you wrote the word MIRROR on the wall, wasn’t he?”

“I didn’t go back in through the greaser.”

“You didn’t?” I ate the last of my chicken.

“When I was in that apartment in the greaser’s point-of-view, right before you scared the hell out of me by rushing out of the bedroom to face off with the killer, I picked up a scent.”

I swallowed a drink of water. “Of what?” Or who?

“Someone else was there watching, too. Another ghost.”

Chills peppered my forearms. “Ohhh, creepy.”

“After the greaser died, I woke up back in Ms. Wolff’s apartment and noticed two things immediately—you had left the room and that same scent I’d picked up while inside the greaser was there with us, stronger than ever.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re saying the same ghost was in that apartment both in the past and present.”

He nodded, slicing off another piece of chicken breast.

“But this new ghost hadn’t been a live person during the ax-swinging party.”

“Correct.” He held out the chunk of chicken for me. “He was already dead.”

I took him up on his offering, swallowing before I asked, “Then how did you get back to me and my juggernaut?” I thought Doc’s ability only allowed him to see the events of a person’s death, not anything posthumous.

“He took me there.”

“The ghost took you back in time to me?”

“More like forward in time to you.”

I stole another piece of his breast with my fork. “Clarification, please.”

“We started with his death, and then … I don’t know how but … it’s like he wouldn’t release me. He knew how to drag me to where we needed to go. He took control, like Prudence does each time, to the point where I can’t easily get back out.”

I frowned at Doc. “You went into the past to witness a man’s death and then forward in time through his ghost to witness other deaths.” I was struggling with this one. “That sounds beyond deranged.”

He shrugged. “Maybe, but you traveled into the past through a mirror and showed up on scene in physical form to do battle with what I suspect is a paranormal being whose ax not only kills, but somehow withers or burns and shrinks.” He shot me a sideways smirk. “How deranged is that?”

I stabbed a piece of his chicken with my fork and then pointed it at him. “Touché.”

He leaned over and ate the bite-sized chunk.

“So who was this ghost? Was his death somehow related to the greaser’s or what was going on in that apartment?”

He shook his head. “I think he built the Galena House.”

“You mean Freesia’s great great-uncle, Jake Tender? What makes you think that?”

After wiping his mouth on a napkin, he stood and collected our plates. “When I went back to the time of the ghost’s death, his skin was dark, and he was still tall and muscled, even in old age. I’d seen pictures of Big Jake Tender in that history book you picked up from Ms. Wolff’s apartment. She’d had the page with a shot of him standing in front of the Galena House bookmarked with an old photograph of what I now am pretty sure is the two of them much younger, standing next to one another at a parade. Jake was younger, anyway.” He put our dishes in the dishwasher. “Here’s the interesting thing I witnessed during his death, which was a heart attack by the way.” Doc dried his hands and then leaned on the bar across from me. “I think Ms. Wolff was there with him when he died.”

I frowned, doing the math in my head. “You mean as a little girl?”

“No. She had crow’s feet around her eyes and her hair was bright white. She was leaning over me—I mean him, holding his hand. But she looked the same age as she did in the picture with Big Jake. Like she hadn’t aged, except for her hair.”

“You’re sure?”

He rubbed his jaw, his expression contemplative. “Not a hundred percent, but pretty sure, yeah.”

“Reid told me that Ms. Wolff kept wigs on those styrofoam heads in her closet. If she was alive when Freesia’s great great-uncle was around, and she had white hair even then, you know what that means.”

His eyes locked onto mine. “Ms. Wolff was one of them.”

“She must have used the wigs to blend in over the passage of time.” I chewed on my knuckles, the weight of all this heavy on my chest. “So what does that mean? Why did she call me that day? What is it she needed to tell me before she died that was so damned important?”

Doc came around the counter and took my hand. “Let’s think about this somewhere more comfortable.”

He led me over to the couch, pulling me down next to him. A stack of blankets were draped across the other end, evidence of Harvey’s temporary residence. I leaned back against the sofa arm, stretching my legs perpendicular across Doc’s, close and comfy with him like so many nights over at Aunt Zoe’s in front of the boob tube.

“She knew she didn’t have much time left.” He slipped his hand under my skirt, stroking my bare calf. “Which is ironic considering all of those clocks on her …” he trailed off, his hand going still.

“And she called me an executioner, which isn’t the best way to make new friends.”

“Violet,” he looked at me, his brow pinched. “I can’t believe I didn’t put this together before now.”

“Put what together?”

“The timekeeper. Ms. Wolff is the one Prudence keeps telling you to bring to her.” He squeezed my shin. “It makes total sense now.”

“Not really.” He must be reading from a different script.

“We need to go see Prudence,” he said.

“Or we could skip that and have another nooner.”

His grin rounded the corners of his eyes. “You name the time and place, and I’ll be there.”

“I like the privacy in your garage.”

“I like the softness of my bed.” His hand crept up over my knee, stroking my thigh. “Especially when you’re naked on top of me.” He leaned over and kissed me. “Now quit trying to distract me with your body.”

“Is it working?” It was on me. My pilot had the engines all fired up again.

“No.”

“Liar.” I could feel otherwise and moved purposely against him.

He held me still. “When can you arrange a visit to the Carhart house?”

“I don’t suppose taking off my shirt will dissuade you?”

“That will inspire me to do several things, but when I’m finished with you I’ll still want to go see Prudence.”

I sighed, fingering my necklace. “She wants those teeth, you know. If I show up without them, she’ll be ticked.”

“She’s a ghost, Violet.”

“Are you sure that’s all she is?”

“Mostly.” He pushed my fingers away and lifted the charms on my necklace, leaning closer to get a better look at them. “You need to ask your Aunt Zoe about this necklace, if there’s a purpose for it.”

There was. “She said I needed to wear it for protection from those who kill.”

His gaze met mine, searching. “She said that?”

I nodded.

His focus returned to the charms. “It looks like colored glass over some kind of metal etched with symbols that I swear I remember seeing in that book.”

“The metal is probably silver.” I lowered my chin, trying to look at the pieces, too. “All of the other charm jewelry she’s made for me over the years is silver and glass.”

“I remember you mentioning the boot bracelet she made, as well as some pieces for your brother and your children.”

“Yeah, she’s made me stuff since I was a kid.” I pointed at one of the charms. “See that symbol there? I think that’s one of the runes stone symbols, isn’t it? Several of the pieces she’s given me have runes on them.”

He let go of the necklace and sat back. “I have a feeling your Aunt Zoe knows a lot more about things going on with you than she’s letting on. Take that mirror in her workshop that she said belongs to you. That’s not a normal mirror, and after your trick with the mirror at Ms. Wolff’s place, I’d like to pick your aunt’s brain about you.”

“That’s not a good idea.” Aunt Zoe knew I was pretty gonzo for him. After her past troubles with Reid, she might say something to see where Doc stands before I was too far gone. Unfortunately, I had a feeling she was already too late.

One eyebrow lifted. “You afraid she’ll warn me off?”

“I’m afraid she’ll scare you off.”

He twirled one of my curls around his finger, his attention on my hair. “I’m not an easy man to scare.”

Yet Tiffany’s talk of marriage made him take flight. “Your ex did a good job of it.”

“Tiffany?” He scoffed. “You’re on a whole different level.”

“Just out of curiosity, what are the various levels we’re talking about here?”

He shifted me around so I straddled his lap. “How about I show you?”

Was he evading my question for a reason? Did he know I’d fallen for him and was trying to change the subject so I wouldn’t voice it? Jeez, I hated this relationship shit. Maybe it was time we just laid this out on the table so I’d stop agonizing over it.

“Doc,” I shifted, unwinding my skirt that had gotten all twisted tight around me. “Don’t worry, I don’t expect any kind of long term commitment from you.”

He stilled, frowning at me. “You don’t?”

“No. We’re having fun here, enjoying each other’s company for the time being.”

His head cocked to the side. “Is this about what I told you in that hotel stairwell? About why I broke it off with Tiffany?”

I’d only obsessed about that for weeks now. “Not at all.”

“Your nose just twitched.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing he didn’t know my tell so well. “It did not.”

“And there it twitched again.” He unwound my arms and tugged me closer. “Violet.”

“What?” His eyes were like rich, dark chocolate.

“If you’re not in this for the long run, then I want out.”

I blinked twice. “If
I’m
not in it? I’m the one with kids.”

“Exactly. You should know better than to flirt and tease a poor, old bachelor like me, getting my hopes up.”

“Flirt and tease? I made the first move with that kiss.”

“No, I kissed you in a dark stairwell in this very house.” He toyed with my skirt hem. “The first move was mine.”

“If you’ll remember, you told me you didn’t want to get involved with your Realtor.”

“You believe I asked you to represent me by chance?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

My heart was doing the Snoopy dance in my chest. “What are you saying, Doc?”

“I’m saying I don’t want you to act the part of Rex’s wife.”

Whoa! I wasn’t expecting that curve ball.

Before I could respond, he reeled me in for a long, slow, wet kiss that left me steaming. “I’m saying I don’t share well with others,” he said against my lips.

Neither did I.

His mouth trailed along my jawline, warming my earlobe. “I’m saying we need to tell Cooper how Ms. Wolff died.”

I’d swear I heard the sound of a record being scratched. I pulled back. “That was a non sequitur, and I still disagree.”

“Think about it.” One of his hands slid yet higher up my leg. “We could ask if he’d return the teeth while we’re at it.”

I let out a harsh laugh. “He’ll never go along with either.”

“Never say never. I once said I’d never get involved with a blonde billboard model, yet here you sit on my lap, inspiring wicked thoughts about those sexy panties of yours.”

“Now
you’re
trying to distract me.”

“Wasn’t there talk earlier about you taking off your top?”

“It’s not going to work. I’m not telling Cooper. He’ll throw me in jail again for even mentioning the albino.”

Doc reached waaayyyyy up under my skirt, his eyes widening the further his fingers traveled. “Apparently, Boots, you’ve misplaced your underwear.”

There wasn’t much to be said for a long time after that.

* * *

Saturday, October 13th (Two days later)

“I still think this is a bad idea,” I told Doc as he towed me through the tables and the scattering of people in the Purple Door Saloon to a back corner booth. The one next to it sat empty, giving us the privacy we would need. The smell of beer, burgers, and fried potatoes weighed heavy in the warm bar. The place wasn’t as busy as it was on summer weekend nights. The tourist season had pretty much wound down, leaving Deadwood in the lull that hit every year until the snow started falling.

Sharp Dressed Man
from ZZ Top with its eighties guitar riffs blasted from the jukebox back by the pool table. The song seemed fitting for Doc tonight in his black khakis and white shirt under his leather jacket. Had I known he was going to dress so slick, I’d have put more effort into my blue jeans and T-shirt getup.

“Who’s going to bail me out of jail if you’re in there with me?” I asked.

“Cooper is not going to throw us in jail for this.” Doc helped me shuck my coat and waited while I slid into the booth. He shed his jacket, tossed it and mine onto the empty table next door so it looked occupied. “He may be a bit ticked that we went into the Galena House, but we did have Freesia there with us. It wasn’t breaking and entering, at least not this last time.”

He had a point. “Or trespassing.”

“Exactly.” He dropped down next to me.

The waitress bustled over, tossing thick paper coasters on the table. “What can I get you two to drink?” she had a smoker’s voice, which seemed fitting for a saloon. Luckily the regular bartender wasn’t working tonight. He wasn’t fond of blondes for some reason and preferred to glare holes through me rather than serve drinks.

“Margarita on the rocks,” I said. “Make it extra strong.”