Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) (17 page)

By the time I’d tucked up all of my hair in a nest of bobby pins and gotten all duded up minus the dress, hat, and veil, Doc had rolled into the drive. I greeted him at the door in my bathrobe.

He stood under the porch light dressed in the same slacks and jacket, but the cream shirt had been switched with a black one.

“Come in, Johnny Cash. Did you have fun stuck over in Folsom Prison today?”

“Not at all.” Doc stepped inside and shucked his coat. “How about you put those lovely lips next to my ear and blow my blues away.”

I closed the door behind him, noticing the tiredness in his eyes. “Next to your ear, huh?”

“For starters.” He pointed at my robe. “What’s under there?”

“A weapons arsenal that will make your knees wobble.”

“Nearly naked and deadly, I like that in a woman.”

I went up on my toes and hit him with a kiss. “Your lips are cold. Stick around after the funeral and I’ll warm them up for you.”

Grabbing his arm, I tugged him to the kitchen. Harvey was setting sliced pieces of meatloaf on the table.

“Where are the kids?” I asked Harvey.

“They already ate. Addy’s down in the basement playin’ with her chicken, and your boy’s up in his room. He was fillin’ my ears with stories from some book Doc gave him.”

I looked at Doc. “Another ghosts of Deadwood collection?”

“Something like that.” He held out my chair, waiting for me to sit before joining Harvey and me at the table.

For the next fifteen minutes, I forgot all about the chaos going on in my world and frolicked around in meatloaf land while Harvey and Doc talked about things I couldn’t remember moments later.

“Damn, this is good meatloaf,” I told Harvey as I plowed through my second piece.

“Get that googly look out of yer eyes, girl. My answer is still ‘no.’”

“Answer to what?” Doc asked.

My face warmed. I mimed zipping my lips at Harvey. Talking about the M word in front of Doc always made my armpits sweaty.

“She offered to get hitched, but I don’t want her. She comes with too many horns and rattles for this old man.”

Doc lowered his fork, a smile rounding the corners of his mouth. “You asked Willis to marry you?”

I opened my mouth and then closed it, worried I’d somehow jam my slipper in it.

“Yes sirree.” Harvey beat me to the answer. “But she only wants me for my cookin’.” He faked wiping tears from his eyes with his napkin.

Doc chuckled. “Can’t say I blame her. You do have a way with tongs and an oven mitt.”

“That’s what some of them feisty old mares down at the senior center whisper about me, too.”

I pushed my chair back, taking this opportunity to flee. “I need to get dressed.” I carried my pretty much licked-clean plate to the sink. “Harvey, I’ll do the dishes when we get back from Mudder Brothers.”

“Don’t worry, the young’uns can help me clean up. It’s good for ‘em.”

I patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, heartbreaker.” I shot Doc a glance, not quite meeting his eyes. “Give me ten minutes.”

I shot out of the room like the starter pistol had fired.

True to my word, ten minutes later I kissed my grumbling kids on the head, snapped Harvey’s suspenders, and followed Doc out the door.

Doc didn’t mention my marriage proposal on the way down to Mudder Brothers, thankfully. It was probably in part because I filled the ride with inane chatter about my day, determined to keep things light and breezy between us.

He parked behind his office. When I started to climb out of his car, he caught my hand.

“Promise me you won’t sneak down into the basement tonight. I’d like to keep from repeating any parts of our last adventure in the bowels of Mudder Brothers.”

Bowels
was the spot-on word for all the crazy crap that went down that night.

I crossed my heart. “Trust me, I don’t want to go inside that funeral parlor with all of its spooky rooms any more than you.”

He released me. “Let’s go see what this is all about.”

While I waited for him at the bumper, I secured my black hat and veil, completing my disguise. “What do you think? Am I sufficiently camouflaged?”

“I think I like your Morticia Addams look much more.”

“How about if I speak French to you? Would that make it better?”

“I don’t know.” He tucked my arm in his and led me across the parking lot. Mudder Brothers night lights acted as a beacon up ahead in the darkness. “Give it a whirl.”

My French was pretty limited. “
Bon appétit
.”

“Not bad, especially after that meal by the old guy who jilted you. Try some more.”

I wasn’t going to touch that jilted remark with a ten foot pole. “
Déjà vu.
”

“Yes, I do feel a bit like we’ve done this before. Although last time started out a bit more alarming.”

“Oh là là.”

“I like that a lot. Makes me want to watch your mouth when you say it. Let’s try that one again later when I have you in my bed.”

We were reaching Mudder Brothers’ crematorium-slash-garage. I swung wide, wanting to avoid it now that I knew more about what was inside.

As we drew close to the front door, I threw out one more. “
Voilà.
”

“Appropriately chosen,
ma belle Violet
.” He lifted the veil, searching my face. “Oh, Tish. Look at you, so pale and mysterious. Nobody will be looking at the corpse in there.”

That made me snort. “Okay, Gomez.”

He winked and dropped my veil. “Please be careful tonight,
cara mia
.”

“
Oui oui
.” I wasn’t sure if he was still in character with that endearment he’d thrown out or not, but it warmed the cockles of my cockles nonetheless. I squeezed his hand. “Good show, old man. Come on.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

I entered Mudder Brothers first, pausing for a moment in the foyer to remove my smile from behind my veil and slip into a somber act.

Nothing had changed on the inside since the last time I’d been there. Well, other than the removal of George Mudder’s name from the license in the frame on the wall next to the ladies restroom.

Doc had said he’d wait about ten minutes before coming inside, so I made a quick pit stop in the ladies room to make sure my disguise was fully in place and no blonde curls were escaping. I stared through the veil into the mirror. Only my chin was visible. Had I gone too far? Would my mysterious caller even recognize me?

It was time to go see. With one last tuck of my hair, I stepped out and ran right into Rex Conner, the non-support-paying rat bastard. He appeared to be on his way to the men’s room, which was one door down.

“Sorry about that,” he said after I’d extracted my face from his chest. “Are you okay?”

He wore a black suit and a dark red tie, his blond hair perfectly coiffed, his jaw stubble free. Perfect as always on the outside while undoubtedly still rotten to the core on the inside. What in the hell was he doing here?

I kept my chin down so he couldn’t see my face through the veil and lowered my voice. “I’m fine.”

Pulling away before he had the chance to study me further, I made a beeline for the parlor, grabbing a program from the visitor sign-in table on the way. Inside, fifty or so mourners were congregated to pay their respects to Ebenezer, who lay front and center in his silver casket.

I slid into one of the rows near the middle of the room that had three empty seats by the wall lined with a one-way mirrored glass. I purposely took the seat against the wall, wanting to make sure if there were somebody watching from behind the glass, they’d see me. Drawing a handkerchief from my small black purse, I pretended to dab my eyes as I searched the room, on the lookout for my mysterious caller.

Up front Eddie Mudder lurked near the casket, adjusting flowers and toying with the temperature gauges. His infamous organ music that usually creeped me out was missing tonight. Maybe the Haskells had requested a silent viewing.

A dark-blonde, wavy-haired woman in a navy blue suit handled those coming up to pay their respects. She was new at Mudder Brothers, at least new since I’d been there last. Where had Eddie picked her up? Maybe she was a Haskell family member who’d stepped up to keep people moving past the casket. Whoever she was, the mourners seemed at ease with her, taking comfort in her touch.

Now that I had settled in for the show and had nothing to do but wait for my caller to reach out to me, I pondered Rex’s presence here while I scanned the program made up for Ebenezer.

Had someone called him, instructing him to show up tonight, too? Someone who knew Layne was his blood offspring? Or was this all tied to Rex somehow? Had Rex gotten himself into some stupid mess that was going to rain problems down not just on him, but me and mine by association?

Lord, how I’d like to throttle the son of a bitch’s neck and dump him down an old mine shaft. Maybe it was time to get that restraining order that I’d blown off before because he’d moved states away and shown absolutely no interest in the kids.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Doc slip into a seat a couple of rows back on the other side of the room.

He held my gaze for a second or two, and then opened the program telling all about Ebenezer, his life’s work, and his remaining family.

The churning in my guts slowed, a calm washing over me from knowing Doc had my back.

Through the hazy veil, I searched the room again. Starting with the casket at the front of the room, I looked at each of the other mourners. There were twice as many people at this funeral than had been at the previous two Haskell funerals I’d attended with Natalie and Harvey. Ebenezer must have been popular.

Or had more money to will.

My eyes traveled over the sea of gray, white, brown, and blond heads. The red-headed population had no representatives present tonight. Tiffany should have come. She’d have loved standing out in the crowd.

Okay, that was kind of catty, and I should probably grow up and stop poking fun at the broad just because she’d tried to steal two of my clients away with her hot body and good looks. Not to mention that she’d had sex with my boyfriend. So what if Doc hadn’t been seeing me at the time; that was splitting hairs.

A mature woman would try to be nice to the ultra-competitive bitch and try
not
to fantasize about rubbing gum in her flaming red hair or hanging weights off her perky breasts until they sagged or jamming a …

Wait. I was sliding backwards down a slippery slope. I needed to step back and get a clear perspective on reality.

I had Doc.
For now, at least.

Cooper might want to shoot me, but he didn’t want to change real estate agents.

Cornelius wanted to keep me around because he’d decided I was his own personal ghost channeling genie.

So, there. Tiffany’s threats were all in her head. I needed to work harder not to let them get into mine.

Someone took the seat next to me.

I scooted over a little to make more room and held the handkerchief up to my face again.

“Nice try, Violet, but I can smell that it’s you under all of that black.” The sound of Rex’s voice made me grind my teeth all over again.

“Go away, Rex.”

“If you’re going to disguise yourself, use a different perfume. Not many women share your scent. Trust me, I know. I’ve been with a few and haven’t found one yet.”

Was that supposed to be romantic? Him sniffing women, looking for a scent match? Ewww. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d think it was obvious.” He pointed at the casket.

“So you didn’t get a phone call?”

“Was I supposed to? Is that how they are inviting mourners to funerals these days? I’d prefer a text, if so.”

I couldn’t decide if he were playing with me or serious.

“Listen, Rex.” I realized I was whispering a little too loud and stopped, shielding my mouth before continuing. “I don’t appreciate this game you’re playing.”

“It’s no game, not when I’ve spelled out exactly what I want from you. I don’t know how to make it clearer.”

“So you threaten my son.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That call.”

“What call?”

I lifted my veil, glaring flat out. “Don’t mess with me, Rex. I will hurt you.”

“Right, you’ll sell my kidneys on the black market. I remember your threat.”

“Excuse me,” Doc’s voice cut in. He towered over Rex. “How about we go visit the late Mr. Haskell?”

I dropped my veil. Doc and I weren’t supposed to know each other, had he forgotten? “Do you mean me, sir?” I asked, staring straight forward.

“No. I’m talking to your seatmate.” He hooked Rex under the arm and lifted him out of his chair, hanging his arm around my ex’s shoulders like they were old pals. “Let’s go pay our respects, Rex.”

Without giving Rex a chance to disagree, Doc propelled him out to the aisle. He nudged the bastard toward the casket and then stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him over the body, speaking in Rex’s ear. I’d have loved to be a fly on the inside of that casket.

Hold up, I take that back. I didn’t want to be a fly anywhere near a dead person.

“Excuse me, Miss,” the pretty blonde in the navy suit handed me a program. Her brown eyes sort of reminded me of Doc’s, so dark it was hard to see the pupil. “I think you dropped this.”

I checked my purse. “No, mine’s right here.”

“No, it’s not.” Her smile tightened, like it was freezing onto her face. “This one is yours, trust me.” She took my hand and shoved the program into it.

“Okay then,” I said, like I was calming a crazed escapee from the nuthouse. “You’re right, this one is mine.” I folded it and tucked it into my purse. “Thank you for returning it to me.”

Those dark brown eyes rolled ever so slightly. “No problem. Enjoy the rest of the show.”

I frowned after her and her long wavy tresses. She walked toward the front of the room, consoling an older woman on the way while offering her a tissue.

Who was that? I needed to ask Natalie about her. She’d probably know. She knew everyone in Deadwood and most in Lead.

I stared into the one-way glass next to me, wishing I could see through it into the storage room on the other side. The very room where I’d found the bottle of mead Cooper was so curious about stashed in a huge crate. Was there anyone back there tonight? Somebody who was busy watching me, waiting to get me alone? Did he have white hair, bulbous eyes, and want to remove my spine for killing his twin?