Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) (30 page)

So Cooper was out as a confidant on this one, but there was someone else who knew most of the members of the Deadwood police force—Natalie. She’d either grown up with, dated, or tossed back drinks with most of the guys and gals in blue. She had the goods on several of their extracurricular activities and knew most of their spouses to boot. I’d have to call her and fill her in, but not until later. She was still down in Rapid hanging out with her cousins according to the text she’d sent last night.

I collected my purse and the three coffees I’d stopped to pick up at the Tin Cup Café. According to the quick call I’d had with Mona after leaving the morgue, Ray and Ben were already on location at an old bar in Sturgis rumored to be haunted by a slew of biker gang members killed three decades ago during the big motorcycle rally. That meant Mona and I should have a nice, quiet morning during which she could clack away on her keys as usual while I stared at my computer screen and did my best to figure out who was trying to mess up my future as a free woman.

I opened the back door, slipping inside carefully, trying not to dump coffee on my tan suede boots. I left the door open for the moment. Coffee delivery duties first, then I’d tend to the door and my coat.

Jerry’s office door was open a couple of inches. I hesitated, listening to see if he was on the phone. A scuffling sound came through the crack but nothing else.

I balanced the tray of coffees on one arm and knocked twice. “Morning, Jerry,” I pushed opened the door. “Here’s your—”

It turned out Jerry wasn’t alone after all.

Luckily for me, I’d already had a shock this morning registering around 7.5 on the Richter scale, so catching Mona and Jerry in a back-bending lip lock only caused a small bump on my seismometer.

Mona scrambled free of Jerry’s arms, her cheeks complementing her dark red hair. She covered her lips and looked away from me. I resisted the urge to tell her that the horizontal pink stripes on her white sweater were now diagonal.

“Sorry to intrude.” I carried the coffee tray over to Jerry’s desk, keeping my focus on the coffee lids. I pulled my cup free and then shot Jerry a quick smile. “I’ll let you two get back to your … uh … meeting.”

Wow, and I thought donning a bathing suit in public was a squirmy proposition. I couldn’t exit Jerry’s office fast enough. Closing the door behind me, I hung up my coat in the hallway, shut the back door, and then clomped with extra loudness to my desk so the two love birds would know I wasn’t pressing my ear to Jerry’s office door.

I whistled as I started up my computer, wondering what Jane’s ghost thought about her ex-husband making out with her best friend in her old office. The same office where Jane and Ray had shared a lust-filled romp a couple of nights before her death. What in the hell was in the air in there?

While my computer came to life, I shipped a text off to Natalie, telling her I needed to chat with her about Detective Hawke’s latest body snatching accusation and something else that had come up this morning.

I was scrolling through the day’s listing of MLS properties when Jerry’s door opened.

“I’ll be back this afternoon,” Jerry said loud enough for my ears. “Call me if you two need anything.”

The back door opened and closed, leaving me alone with Mona and one huge trumpeting elephant in the room. I avoided making eye contact with her as she joined me in the front office, letting her settle into her chair and get to clacking.

“Your stripes are crooked, hot lips,” I said without looking, a smile splitting my face wide. When I peeked over, her cheeks were flushed. I wasn’t sure if that was Jerry’s doing or mine.

She straightened her sweater. “There’s an explanation for what you saw.”

“Oh, yeah?” I rolled my chair across the wooden floor and rested my elbows on her desk. “I’m all ears.”

She covered her face with her hands and groaned.

I tugged on her wrists, pulling her hands down. “I promise not to tell a soul, now give me this so called explanation for having Jerry kiss you like he was heading off to sail the seven seas.”

She checked the back door, and then took a sip of her coffee, her hands trembling slightly. “Jerry and I have a bit of a history.”

“No shit.” I waved off her look of surprise. “You two practically sizzle when you’re together. I keep expecting to get burned when I sit next to you during company lunches.”

She fanned herself, but the red from her cheeks crept down her neck. “I knew this was going to be a problem as soon as Jerry showed up to take over.”

“What happened in the past between you two? Inquiring busybodies are dying to hear all of the sordid details.”

The bells over the front door jingled. I turned, flipping into professional Realtor mode. “Welcome to Calamity Jane Realty,” I stood, walking over to greet the older couple that had interrupted my quest to finally find out what the story was with Mona and Jerry. “How can we help you?”

“I believe these two are here to see me, Violet.” Mona joined us, her cheeks faded back to a warm pink. “Hi, I’m Mona Hollister. You must be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers.”

I returned to my desk and left Mona to work her magic on the couple, who planned to retire on a small ranch where they could raise pedigree mules. I peeked at them over my computer screen. Why mules? Why not Great Danes? I focused back on the MLS listings, shaking my head. Just like the olden days, Deadwood still lured the odd, eccentric members of society out to sow their weird and wild oats. Take Doc and his medium experiments, or me and my executioner escapades.

For the next hour, I dabbled in real estate, calling back some potential clients, researching some possible places to advertise Cooper and Jeff Wymonds’ places, and practicing the lines on my cue cards for tomorrow’s filming at the Galena House.

During my dabbling, Mona left to show her clients a few houses, saying she’d check back in with me, leaving me alone to mind the store. Well, alone except for Jane, who might be hovering over me for all I knew, berating me on my lack of check marks under the Sold column on her favorite white board.

A while later, my cellphone rang. I checked the screen, figuring it was Mona, but the phone number didn’t match. It was local, so maybe it was someone looking to sell a house.

“Calamity Jane Realty, this is Violet Parker.”

“Ms. Parker, this is Principal Walker at Deadwood Elementary School.”

That made me freeze. “Yes?” Had something happened to my kids?

“We had some trouble at school today. I need you to come in to my office to discuss the events and repercussions.”

Repercussions? That sounded not so good. “Uh, did Adelynn try to bring a mouse into class again after recess?” She and I had had a long talk at Aunt Zoe’s kitchen table after Addy’s last rescue mission. She knew better than to collect pets while at school.

“Actually, Adelynn had nothing to do with this. It’s your son, Layne.”

My stomach cramped in anxiety. “Is he okay?” Had someone tried to kidnap him? Someone with white hair and snake eyes?

No, wait, Principal Walker had mentioned repercussions.

“I think you need to come in to my office, and we can discuss this in person, Ms. Parker. How soon do you think you can be here?”

I glanced at the clock, then around at the empty desks. Shoot, I was supposed to hold down the fort until Mona got back.

“Can this wait an hour?” I asked.

“Not really. I’d like to begin the suspension immediately.”

Suspension? From school? Layne? What the hell?

I stood, grabbing my purse. I’d have to close the office for a bit. “Okay, give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be there.”

“Thank you for your immediate attention to this matter, Ms. Parker.”

Like he’d given me a freaking choice. I locked the front door, turned the Open sign to Closed, and raced out to the Picklemobile. I texted Mona on the way across the parking lot, telling her I had a kid emergency and needed to lock up the office for a short time.

Ten minutes later, I was climbing the front steps of the Deadwood Elementary School building, bracing myself for whatever heinous crime my son had committed. I just prayed he hadn’t tried to blow anything up during science again. Inside the front office, I was ushered straight into the principal’s lair where Layne sat waiting for me.

I grimaced at his black eye. I’d had to leave before they were up and eating breakfast this morning thanks to Cooper’s insistence I join him and Detective Hawke at the morgue, so I hadn’t seen Layne since I’d kissed him goodnight. The red welt from Addy had still been a red welt at the time, not a full-on shiner. Plus, now that I thought about it, that had been his other eye.

“What happened, Layne?” I asked, dropping into the seat next to Layne, sitting across the desk from the very serious-faced principal. “Did you get into a fight?”

“Actually, he started a fight,” Principal Walker said.

“What?” I gaped at Layne, wondering what on earth had happened to my son who used to spend his time with his nose in a book on the physiology of dinosaurs. “You started it?”

“We have several witnesses confirming that he attacked the other boy,” the principal spoke for Layne again, “throwing the first punch.”

“Wow.” I sat back, completely and overwhelmingly flummoxed. “Why?” I asked Layne.

He pinched his lips together and turned away.

“As you know from my correspondence, Ms. Parker, this isn’t the first time he’s started a fight in the recess yard.”

His correspondence? I stared blankly at Principal Walker and his salt-and-pepper handlebar moustache.

“You know, the notes I’ve sent home over the past couple of weeks that you’ve initialed and returned?”

I hadn’t seen a single note, nor signed anything of the sort. Oh, crud, this mess with Layne was worse than just a school yard fight.

I nodded, covering for my lying kid. “Right, yes, those notes, the ones I signed and returned.” I was going to lock up my son in the attic and ground him for two life sentences.

“Based on his history of starting fights, I’m going to suspend him for the rest of this week.” Principal Walker leaned over his desk, his sharp gaze aimed at Layne. “I hope that when you return to school next week, Mr. Parker, you will have learned how to keep your hands to yourself. Here at Deadwood Elementary, we have a no-tolerance rule when it comes to bullying.”

Layne nodded, then returned to studying his shoes.

Principal Walker focused back on me. “If this continues, I’ll be forced to have the school counselor work with him to find a solution on whatever is spurring this bullying.”

Holy horseshit! This was big. Even though I was having trouble swallowing that Layne was a bully, I said, “Of course,” and popped up out of my chair like a jack-in-the-box. “Can I take him home now? Or does he need to collect his things from class first?”

“He’s ready to go.” Principal Walker pointed at Layne’s backpack resting near his door. “Good luck, Ms. Parker. Let me know if we can be of further assistance.”

“I will,” I lied, resisting the urge to grab Layne by the ear and drag him out to the Picklemobile. Instead I clasped my hands together and glanced down at my son’s blond head. “You ready, Layne?”

He avoided my gaze all of the way out to the Picklemobile. At least his survival instincts were still working, even though his brain seemed to be broken. I waited until we were both buckled in with the windows rolled up before turning on him. “What is going on, Layne Alan Parker? What in the world are you doing starting fights at school?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stared bullheadedly out the window.

“Ha! You don’t want to talk about this? Oh, that’s rich. You don’t get a choice now that you’re suspended.” I started the Picklemobile and shifted into gear. “Is this why you’ve been playing sick lately?” Addy had been right with her skepticism. How much did she know about Layne fighting at school? They were in separate classes, but they had lunch and recess together.

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

I sputtered, and then bit my lip before I started yelling and said things I regretted later. I drove toward home in silence, wondering what in the world would spur my normally mild-mannered, peace-loving son into picking fights.

I must have done something wrong. Was it moving him to Deadwood when he didn’t want to leave his friends down in Rapid? Was it my work and some of the odd hours I had to put in? No, even with the filming and all that went into it, I was spending way more time with my kids than I used to when I worked at the car dealership. Was it Doc? I glanced Layne’s way, grimacing at the bruises around his eye. Was this how he was dealing with his unhappiness about my allowing another man into our lives?

I worried about all of those possibilities until I pulled into Aunt Zoe’s drive. When Layne reached for the door handle, I caught his arm.

“Listen, I have to get back to the office, but we’re not done discussing this.”

His lips stayed pressed tight, his hazel eyes meeting mine for a second or two, then darting away again.

“Get inside, go straight up to your room, and find a book to read. There’ll be no television for you this week, no fun stuff while you’re home.”

“What about trick or treating?”

Good question. “Whether you get to go or not depends on the answers you give me tonight when we discuss what’s causing this aggression.”

He nodded, accepting his fate. “I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

That surprised me, spurring tears out of the blue. I let go of his arm, turning away so he wouldn’t see my watery eyes, just in case he was playing me. “Apology accepted, but you’re still in big trouble.”

“I know. Can I go now?”

“Yes.” I waited for him to make it to the front door before climbing out of the Picklemobile and following.

Aunt Zoe was standing in the front foyer, staring up the stairs after Layne when I stepped inside. She frowned at me. “What’s going on?”

Without saying a word, I walked up to her and wrapped my arms around her waist. “I need a hug.”

She gave me a good squeeze. “Violet, you’re scaring me. Is Layne okay?”

“Yes.” I stepped back and blew out a breath of frustration. “Well, no, not really. Physically he’s bruised up, but there’s something worrisome going on in his head.”