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Authors: Ann Charles

Tags: #The Deadwood Mystery Series

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BOOK: Better Off Dead in Deadwood
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“At least the bitch kept the insurance bills paid up. She killed our credit, though.”

There was the ex-wife crack. I chose to ignore it. “Good. We can promote a new garage roof on the listing.”

I glanced out the back window at Addy, Layne, and Kelly, Jeff’s daughter and Addy’s best friend. The three of them were lying on the ground staring up at the sky. I envied their lack of worries about jobs, money, and killer albinos.

Addy’s attempts to get me together with Jeff stemmed from her desire to have a sister, and Kelly could provide instant sisterhood without any messy babies. While she had a good idea with avoiding those messy babies, she just didn’t understand that there was more to living with Jeff than her having a permanent slumber party pal. Someone had to cook his dinner and play dutiful wife: I burned most everything that couldn’t be microwaved and I had authority issues. Sex with him was out of the question, no matter how drunk I got.

“Did I tell you that the bitch wants alimony? Can you believe that shit?”

His sticky situation with his ex-wife was yet another reason I had no desire to hook up with him.

“That really sucks, Jeff. Maybe we can get your house sold soon and you can throw some money at her to see if that satisfies her.”

“She’ll never be satisfied. I knew that from the start, but she had such a cute ass in her cheerleading outfit.”

And we were back to butts. I switched to talking about the weather while the spaghetti cooked.

I was carting the pot to the sink when the doorbell rang again.

It was too early for Doc, so that was probably Harvey. He must have seen Jeff’s car in the drive when he stopped over at his girlfriend’s, Miss Geary, our sultry neighborhood sexpot.

Harvey knew all about Jeff Wymonds and his preference for butts. He probably came to watch me dodge and weave Jeff’s hands.

“Will you get that, Jeff?” I asked, not wanting to stop pouring.

“Sure.” He disappeared through the kitchen archway.

I heard the sound of footfalls returning as I put the empty pot in the sink and reached for Aunt Zoe’s homemade spaghetti bowl.

“Maybe you could help me with some money problems I’m having thanks to the bitch I’m divorcing,” I heard Jeff say.

Was he really going to borrow money from Harvey? My inner Realtor perked up. How much cash was Harvey supposed to receive from that uncle with the mule? Enough to buy a place in town and worry about selling the ranch later?

I grabbed the bowl from up high and pulled it toward the shelf edge. A big plate next to it teetered, threatening to come down on my head.

“Yikes,” I said, trying not to drop the spaghetti bowl while stopping the plate from falling.

“Here,” Doc said, catching the plate.

Doc?
I felt the blood drain from my face.

“Let me help.” He took the bowl from my hands.

I looked up into his dark eyes, unable to read his reaction to Jeff greeting him at my door. “Hi, Doc.”

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything by stopping by.”

“Well, I … uh … Addy …” I trailed off, wanting to tell Doc the truth but not wanting to hurt Jeff’s feelings.

“Violet and I are celebrating some good news of mine with a dinner date,” Jeff explained to Doc.

Shit.

“A date.” Doc’s focus shifted from Jeff, to the candle on the table, to me. “How romantic.”

Chapter Four

Over the years, one of my problems with having potential and actual boyfriends was that they tended to show up at the worst possible moments.

Like when that boy from my
Music of the Ages
college class caught me in bed next to his nearly naked Australian roommate, who’d invited me over to blow on his didgeridoo.

Or when that cute parole officer from my mom’s bicycle club pedaled by while I was being handcuffed alongside a Pennington County Sheriff’s SUV.

Or when Doc stopped by the house while I was making a candlelit dinner for an oversexed, wanna-be baby-daddy in my aunt’s kitchen.

My track record with men had a lot of crashes and burns. As I stood there trying to gauge Doc’s reaction to my situation, I crossed my fingers that tonight wouldn’t end with any hearts exploding into pieces. Especially mine.

“It’s not really a dinner date,” I explained. “More of a celebration meal.” Without looking at Jeff, I added, “Will you join us?”

When that didn’t make any cracks in Doc’s stony expression, I took the plate and bowl back from him and set them on the counter. Then I grabbed a stack of plates from the cupboard and handed them to him. “Please set the table.”

Without giving him a chance to refuse, I took the spaghetti bowl over to the stove.

The screen door crashed open and two bundles of energy in the form of little girls shot inside.

“Dad,” Kelly ran up to Jeff, her eyes wide, matching her smile. “Look what Addy found.”

Addy followed on her heels, holding something cupped in her hands.

Jeff gave the two his full attention. “What do you have there, Addy-girl?”

I joined the trio to see what my daughter had in her hands. Addy wanted to be a veterinarian when she grew up, and her usual “finds” were not allowed in the kitchen—Elvis the chicken included.

Addy opened her hands a crack and a squeak came from inside.

I jumped back. “No! Take it outside.”

“Mom, you didn’t even see it.”

“I don’t care.” I pointed at the back door, where Layne stood frowning back and forth between Jeff and Doc. “That thing squeaks. It does not belong in this house. Outside now, Adelynn Renee.”

Jeff cupped his hands around Addy’s. “Come on, Addy-girl, let’s take it out back and see if we can find something to put it in.”

They walked together toward the back door. Layne moved out of the way to let the trio go by.

“Supper’s almost ready,” I called as the screen door closed behind them.

I glanced over at Doc and caught him frowning at the chair where Jeff had been a moment before. I could only imagine what he was thinking, and nothing I came up with helped my cause.

“Mom,” Layne said. “I think I need a bandage.” He raised his knee for me to see.

A scrape above his shin oozed blood between a smudge of dirt and a couple pieces of grass.

“Oh, honey, are you okay?” My knees popped as I squatted before him to inspect it.

“Mom, I’m fine.” His face darkened as he looked over at Doc. “Don’t treat me like a baby. I just need something to stop the bleeding.”

“You also need to clean it first. Go upstairs to the bathroom. I’ll be right there.”

Layne avoided making eye contact with Doc as he passed.

I stood and turned back to Doc, who now watched Jeff and the girls out the window, the crease still in place between his brows.

I opened my mouth to apologize for Jeff, Addy’s critter, Layne’s stiffness, and anything else I could throw in to smooth things over, but Doc spoke first. “He’s really good with kids.”

“Jeff?” At Doc’s nod, I continued, “He’d better be; he has two of his own.”

Doc looked over at me, his gaze guarded. “He’s really good with
your
kids.”

His comment hung between us, my brain picking up on the undercurrents rolling off him. I needed to tiptoe through this field of land mines.

“Jeff does okay,” I said, “especially with Addy, since she’s into the same things as Kelly. Plus, we take turns babysitting.”

“Mom! Are you coming or not?” Layne hollered from upstairs.

“One minute,” I called back. “Listen, Doc, this whole thing with—”

“Mom, I got blood on Aunt Zoe’s shower curtain.”

Crap! She’d just bought that one last week.

I touched Doc’s arm, wishing he would wrap it around me and tell me everything was fine and dandy. “I’ll be right back.”

Upstairs, Layne sat on the sink counter swinging his legs, thumping the cupboards with his heels.

“Layne, stop kicking. You’re getting dirt on the cupboard doors.” I pulled open the drawer where Aunt Zoe kept her first aid supplies. “Here,” I tossed him an old rag. “Get this wet.”

“Why is
he
here?”

I faked nonchalance, wondering if Layne had picked up on the vibes between Doc and me. “Who?”

“Jeff.”

Whew! “Addy asked Kelly and him to join us for dinner.”

“He always stares at your butt.”

Tell me about it.
I took the washrag and dabbed at his knee. “He’s probably just checking for chicken feathers. You know how Elvis is always roosting on my stuff.”

“I don’t think so, Mom. I think he wants to have a baby with you.”

That stopped me mid-dab. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Addy says you’re going to let her name the baby.”

Wow. I grabbed the counter to ground myself. After raising two kids on my own, just thinking about having a baby made me feel like jumping out the bathroom window, shimmying down the ivy lattice, and running for the hills … well, deeper into them anyway.

Apparently, the previous talk I’d had with Addy on the subject of Jeff and me and matrimony had bounced right off her bubble-gum-filled brain.

“Layne, I’m not going to have a baby with Jeff.” Cross my heart and hope to die.

“Are you gonna have one with Doc?”

“No.” I’d learned my lesson about having kids with hot guys who had relationship issues, and while Doc showed potential for a long-term plan, he’d left his last girlfriend as soon as she’d brought up marriage.

“Why is he here then?”

I returned to dabbing and cleaning. “Layne, there is something that you need to understand. I have friends who are boys, just like I have friends who are girls.”

“So Kelly’s dad is just your friend?”

“Yes.”

“And Doc is, too?”

No.
I hesitated. Lying outright to my son about Doc weighed heavy on my conscience for multiple reasons, especially when I expected the truth from Layne in return.

“Doc is a
really
good friend.” I hoped that would suffice, but in case it didn’t, I changed the subject. “What was in Addy’s hands? Did you see it?”

“A mouse with a broken tail.”

“Ewww.” Why couldn’t she be like her mother and run from creepy, crawly things like mice and spiders and albinos with snake eyes?

I ran the cold water, rinsing the rag, and thought I heard a door close downstairs. Jeff and the girls must be back inside. I hoped he’d made them wash their hands and kept his big mouth shut about his Brady Bunch fantasy with me.

Pulling out some first aid ointment, I smeared it on the bandage.

The growl of an engine made me pause. Was someone coming or going?

I slapped the bandage on Layne’s leg, wiped my hand on a towel, and rushed out into the hall.

“Mom, it’s crooked,” Layne called after me.

Ignoring him, I took the steps two at a time and peeked out the front window in time to see Doc roll away.

Damn, damn, damn!

Back in the kitchen, Jeff and the girls sat at the table, where five dishes were set out instead of the six I’d handed to Doc earlier. Next to the candle, the bowl of spaghetti sat in the middle, all mixed together and ready for eating.

“So, Doc took off?” I tried to act as if I didn’t want to throw myself onto the floor and kick my feet.

“Yeah,” Addy said, scooping spaghetti onto her plate. “He said to tell you he needed to take care of something and he’d talk to you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Crappity-crap. That didn’t sit well in my gut, nor did the idea of eating spaghetti anymore. I dropped into the seat next to Kelly as Layne scuffed up behind me.

“Hey, Layne,” Addy said around a mouthful of noodles. “Jeff said we could keep the mouse in his garage if we wanted to.”

“That garage lost its roof,” Layne grumbled, scooting a chair close enough to me that our legs touched when he sat on it. He couldn’t be much more obvious about marking his territory short of peeing on me, which I’d had enough of when he was a baby.

“It’ll have a new one soon,” Jeff said, winking at me as he shoved a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. He focused on Layne. “Then you and your mom and sister can come visit the little guy on weekend nights.”

Or never. “I’m not really into mice,” I told Jeff with a tight smile.

“Me, either,” he said, his gaze dipping to my chest. “Is that blood on your shirt?”

I glanced down. How had Layne managed that? I didn’t even remember him touching me.

“Darn it, Layne.” Pushing back from the table, I used the opportunity to make my escape. “I’m going to go take a shower and change.”

“But you already showered, Mom,” Addy said.

Shut up, sweetie.

Jeff’s fork lowered. “It’s just a little smudge.”

I took my clean plate over to the cupboard and put it back. “I’m sorry, Jeff, but I have a nasty headache after today.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Jeff said. “You went to Jane’s f—”

“I went to Jane’s
family gathering
, exactly.” I shook my head quickly at Jeff.

“Her gathering, right.” He’d caught on, thankfully.

“I hope you don’t mind if I skip dinner. I want to lie down for a while, try to kick this headache. We can catch up another day about the roof.”

“Sure. Holler if you need anything upstairs, Violet Parker. Anything to help you relax.” Jeff hit me with another wink.

I considered super-gluing his peepers shut as a calming exercise. It’d be right up there with yoga at the moment.

“Layne, will you clean up after dinner and see Jeff and Kelly out?”

“Yeah, Mom.” Layne smiled, obviously happy at the idea of shutting the door behind Jeff.

With a nod goodbye, I exited stage left.

Instead of showering again, I sat on the bathroom floor while I let the water run for a couple of minutes. Wasteful, yes, but extreme measures were sometimes needed when hiding from a client who wanted to make my womb his baby factory.

While I pretended to shower, I sent a text to Natalie, telling her about my new boss being a giant. Then I sent another one saying Cooper had asked about the “albinos” comment she’d made, asking if she’d seen any more since that night at Mudder Brothers. Since she’d stopped talking to me, I’d been sending her texts with the hope that she’d at least write to me. So far, I’d received nothing.

BOOK: Better Off Dead in Deadwood
5.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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