Better Off Dead in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  Several of the Cooper groupies wore tight or low-cut shirts and pouted when they found out he wasn’t there to show them around. Reid sufficed for many of the ladies my age and older, his charm winning him several phone numbers in the end. I wondered if he was going to give up on Aunt Zoe and settle for one of the open house hotties.

  “Any takers?” Cooper asked.

  “Not outright, but we’ll see what happens over the next couple of days.”

  “Do I need to hire some cleaners to get the smoke smell out of my place?”

  “No, it’s mostly gone. I have your kitchen curtains in the Picklemobile. I’ll wash them and bring them by tomorrow.”

  “Just leave them at the station.”

  If Cooper was trying to keep me out of his house because of the corkboard in the basement, it was too late.

  I looked over at Doc, still watching us from the hall.

  He raised a brow.

  I grimaced back.

  So much for unloading on him about that bloody hook. Judging from Cooper’s reaction to my big mouth, I was going to have to sit on this insight until later when I could get Doc alone.

  “Well.” I stood up and collected my bobby pins from Doc’s desk. “I should be going.”

  I tried to step around Cooper and he blocked my exit.

  “Let me get this straight. You came rushing in here to tell Doc about my smoke alarms? That’s it?”

  No. “Yes.” I felt my nose twitch. Yikes! My tell. I covered my nose.

  “What’s wrong with your nose?”

  “It’s itching. I think I’m going to sneeze.”

  Doc appeared next to us with a tissue, his eyes practically twinkling with mirth. He knew all about my tell.

  I shot him a warning glare as I blew my nose, faking a couple of exaggerated blinks.

  “Maybe you should go take care of that in the bathroom,” he suggested, clearing a path for me, saving the day.

  Still hiding behind the tissue, I scurried down the hall into his bathroom. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, shaking my head at the hornets’ nest I’d jammed my hand into out there.

  I waited, staring at the curly blonde-haired monster in the mirror with dark smudges under her red-lined eyes. Add some streaks in my hair and I’d make a good Bride of Frankenstein.

  How was I going to get out of this without having to suffer another interrogation in Cooper’s office?

  Or lose his trust as his real estate agent?

  “Way to go, bonehead,” I told Mrs. Frankenstein.

  She stuck her tongue out at me.

  “Very mature,” I said and opened the bathroom door.

  To my right, the back door beckoned. I tiptoed toward it. My hand was on the door handle when I heard a scuff on the floor behind me.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” I called out and rushed out into the sunshine, yanking the door closed behind me.

  I didn’t waste time celebrating my escape in case Cooper was thinking about following me out and chomping on me some more.

  I jogged over to Calamity Jane’s back door and slipped inside the shadow-filled hall, locking the door behind me for good measure. Who turned off the lights? I wondered, heading down the hall toward my desk. Jane’s door opened as I passed in front of it.

  I looked over and up, expecting to see Jerry’s huge frame.

  Someone much shorter blasted out, slamming into me. My arms flailed as I stumbled forward, almost falling, until a hand caught and steadied me.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking around to see who’d tried to run me down.

  A female zombie with milky white eyes and grayish-colored skin stared back. Torn flesh hung from her left cheek, black rings circled her eyes, and blood streaked down her chin and neck.

  Without further ado, I screamed my head off.

  Chapter Six

  “Violet!” The zombie grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back against the wall. “Stop! It’s me. It’s Mona.”

  The sound of my coworker’s voice coming from the blood-stained lips cut through my nightmare-come-to-life panic. I stood there panting, staring at the zombie, wondering if I’d starved my brain of so much sleep that it was turning normal people into the walking dead. Like some kind of zombie vision now stuck in place.

  “Mona?” I whispered, blinking, trying to see her high cheekbones, porcelain skin, and full lips under the flaps of skin and crusted wounds. She smelled rubbery, synthetic compared to her usual cozy jasmine scent.

  “Is she okay?” Jerry asked zombie-Mona, coming up behind her.

  “She doesn’t know,” I answered for my coworker and tried to laugh, only it sounded like someone stepped on a cat’s tail.

  I wanted to ask if he thought Mona looked a little rough around the edges this afternoon, but I was afraid to find out that it was only me. There’d be no coming back from something as serious as walking and talking hallucinations, not without a mad scientist and a few well-placed bolts of lightning.

  I heard the front door slam open.

  “Violet?” Doc shouted.

  “She’s back here,” zombie-Mona said.

  “I heard her scream,” he said, rushing toward me.

  Jerry stepped back, making room for Doc.

  I glanced back and forth between Doc and zombie-Mona. He looked normal, no freaky eyes or apparent cravings for brains.

  “You okay?” Doc asked me, his face creased with concern.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What’s wrong with her?” Cooper asked from where the hall emptied into the front office.

  “I think I scared her,” Mona said.

  Cooper scoffed. “You think? Have you seen yourself lately?”

  My focus whipped to the detective. “You mean you can see her …?” I gestured toward her face.

  “Her zombie makeup?” he asked. “Of course. It’s not that dark back here.”

  Makeup? “Could somebody please turn on the light,” I asked.

  The overhead fluorescent flickered on, lighting up Mona’s face. Up close under the bright bulbs, I could see the streaks in her makeup, a portion of the flap of skin where the glue had loosened, the edge of her milky white contacts.

  “Oh, God,” I said, leaning my head back against the wall, feeling like such a huge freaking idiot. “I thought …” I clamped my jaws shut before I spilled too much.

  Only Doc knew the truth about my vivid nightmares involving demons and albinos. I couldn’t risk telling my boss or Cooper or Mona that I’d thought this was another lifelike nightmare similar to the one I’d had where my psychotic ex-client had melted right in front of my eyes. Coughing up that little nugget would make me sound like an escapee from the loony bin, and I doubted Jerry allowed nut-jobs on his team.

  “You should sit down,” Doc said and led me down the hall to my desk chair, his palms warm on my chilled skin.

  Cooper stepped aside to allow us to pass.

  To hide my trembling hands, I gripped the arm rests. Mona followed us out into the front room, Jerry didn’t.

  Doc went down on one knee in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “You good?”

  “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He sniffed twice and squinted at the far wall for a couple of seconds, his olive skin paling. “I have to go.”

  According to Doc, the Calamity Jane Realty office was haunted, and the entity wasn’t the fun-loving kind of ghost that floated around joking with everyone like in Disney movies. Doc’s visits to my office were usually short and often took place from the threshold, where he could make a quick escape, if needed, rather than deal with the side effects of interacting with the wispy remains of the past.

  As much as I wanted to burrow into his chest and wait for the tremors to pass, I straightened my shoulders. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

  He opened his mouth like he had more to say, then shook his head and rose to his feet. His focus shifted to Cooper. “Ready?”

  Cooper nodded, sendin
g a smirk in my direction. “Unless Ms. Parker wants to press charges against the zombie for assault and battery.”

  I flipped him off, uncaring of our audience. He was lucky I didn’t throw my stapler at his back as he walked away chuckling.

  After the door shut behind Doc and Cooper, I lowered my forehead to my desk.

  “I’m sorry, Violet,” Mona said next to me. She squeezed my shoulder. “I was planning to take off my makeup as soon as I got here, but Jerry called me into his office first thing.”

  Lifting my head, I looked her up and down, noticing for the first time that she was only a zombie from the neck up. Her yellow T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and tennis shoes had no rips, tears, or blood.

  “You’re the second zombie I’ve seen today,” I told her. “There was a zombie at the grocery store earlier.”

  She smiled, her teeth bright white in the midst of the dried blood framing her mouth and trailing down her chin. “We’re in a play at the opera house. Today was the start of dress rehearsals.”

  “Up in Lead?”

  She nodded.

  Lead had a century-old opera house with a history full of gilded grandeur, world class entertainment, and famous visitors. It was also rumored to be haunted, like so many other buildings in the area. I had yet to walk inside the six-story building, but I’d peeked in the lobby doors recently after dropping off some of Layne’s books at the library next door.

  “I didn’t know you were an actress,” I said as Jerry joined us again.

  “Mona and Jane have both dabbled in community theatre over the years.” Jerry handed me a bottle of water left over from Cooper’s open house. “Here, your throat must need some rewetting after that scream.”

  “Thanks.” My cheeks warmed at his reminder of my banshee-like behavior. I uncapped the bottle and took a swig, wishing it were a glass bottle with the word TEQUILA printed on it.

  “Jane was the actress,” Mona said. “She just talked me into joining her on occasion.” She looked down at her hands, her blood-encircled mouth curving down at the corners. “This time I wasn’t planning to be involved in the production, but then Jane …” Mona cleared her throat. “The producer called a few days ago. I’m just filling in for her now.”

  Jerry put his hand on Mona’s shoulder, which she shook off, flashing him a scowl.

  I thought I felt a ripple of tension pass between them, but then it was gone, making me wonder how long they’d known each other and how well.

  Jerry cleared a spot on Ray’s desk and dropped onto it, his long legs stretching to the floor.

  “When does the play start?” I asked Mona.

  “The first of October. It runs twice a week for a month—a matinee on Saturdays and an evening show on Sundays.”

  “The play is a month away and you’re already having dress rehearsals?” That showed how much I knew about community theatre.

  “Peter Tarragon, the director, would’ve given Napoleon a run for his money on the tyranny scale. He insists this performance must go off without a flaw, including the makeup and costumes, and has fired cast and crew members on the spot for disobeying his orders.”

  She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a hairbrush and compact mirror. “Word backstage is that he’s trying to grab the attention of a few bigger theatre companies to propel his career, so he won’t accept anything less than perfection on stage and off. Today was our trial costume and makeup run. He had us go through in shifts so he could inspect the costumes one at a time. This coming week, we’ll start rehearsing in full makeup and costume.”

  “What’s your part?” I asked.

  “The maid of honor.”

  “Always a bridesmaid, never a bride,” Jerry said, watching Mona pull off her hairband and brush through her auburn locks.

  “Maid of honor?” I said. “But you’re a zombie. I don’t get it. What’s the play?”

  Mona inspected her hair in the mirror then tugged on the loose flap of skin half-stuck to her cheek. “It’s called ‘Better Off Wed,’ only the word ‘Wed’ is crossed off and replaced with ‘Dead.’ It’s a zombie wedding musical.”

  I gaped at her. “Like with singing and dancing?”

  She nodded and snapped the compact closed. “Jane had a solo performance in one of the songs at one point, which I’m not thrilled about, but for her I’ll give it my best. She was a much better singer than I am.” Her milky eyes grew watery. She turned away from both Jerry and me, grabbing the black duffel bag sitting on the floor by her desk. “I’m going to go wash this stuff off and change.”

  I watched her walk away until the bathroom door shut. Then I turned to Jerry. “I’m sorry about that screaming business.” I waved toward the back hall. “I didn’t expect to run into a zombie at work.”

  “As opposed to on the street where they belong.” He grinned. “What a day. Burned cookies and zombies.”

  At least he didn’t know about Harvey and his closet nookie. That was Reid’s and my secret, along with the pain I’d seen ripple across Reid’s face when I’d told him the truth about Aunt Zoe’s romantic interest in her date last night.

  “Is life always this entertaining here in Deadwood?” Jerry asked.

  Besides the murders, ghosts, mediums, and albinos? “No. It just has your normal, small town fun.”

  He stood and stretched all the way up. I crooked my neck to see if he could tickle the high, tin-plated ceiling. Not quite. Damn, he was big. Where had Jane found him? Why had they split? I’d have to ask Mona. Judging from her actions and his words, she’d known him for a while.

  “Are we ready to get our ‘huddle’ on?” I asked, wanting to get his critique of today’s open house and my lack of success over and done.

  He shook his head. “No. You look like hell, Violet.”

  Ouch. I cringed. He could use some coaching on his delivery.

  “How about we skip the huddle,” he continued. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

  I wasn’t going to fight him on that. All I wanted to do was go home, put on my pajamas, grab the half-gallon of peanut butter fudge ice cream from the freezer, and slip into a dairy coma on the couch while Humphrey Bogart filled the screen. On second thought, skip the ice cream and bring on that tequila.

  Thinking of Bogart made my chest ache for Natalie, my fellow Bogart groupie. I wished she’d give me a chance to explain what had happened with Doc. That I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t stop myself from playing with fire even while knowing I was going to get good and burned. After the whole mess with Doc and Jeff and the kids yesterday, what degree burn was yet to be determined.

  I collected my purse from my desk drawer, my knees no longer knocking when I stood. “Tomorrow it is.”

  Jerry walked me to the back door, holding it open for me.

  “Oh, Violet,” he said as I stepped out into the warm, late afternoon breeze. “Do you know a Benjamin Underhill?”

  A feeling of dread fell like an anvil, landing in the bottom of my gut.

  Benjamin was Ray’s nephew, who also happened to be a real estate agent—the very agent that Ray had been trying to replace me with for the last three months. Because Jane had hired me instead of Ben, Ray had had it in for me since my first day on the job. His continued attempts over the months to get me fired had helped our relationship remain thorny.

  I’d actually gone to dinner twice with Ben. He was the kind of guy my mom would hook me up with—one who pulled out chairs and held doors and never claimed to smell ghosts. While I liked Ben in a let’s-just-stay-peers way, his name on Jerry’s lips roused my fear of being kicked to the curb.

  “Sure, I know Ben. He’s Ray’s nephew. Why do you ask?”

  Please don’t say you’re hiring him.

  “I’m meeting Ray and him later for dinner.”

  Ray! That rat bastard!

  I tried my best not to let my loathing for Ray spill out through my eyes. “Oh, yeah?”

  “What can you tell me about Benjamin Underhill?
Is he a team player?”

  “A team player?” I repeated his question, stalling.

  I didn’t want to slander Ben. He’d never been anything but nice to me, although a little creepy with his undivided attention at times. On the other hand, Jerry getting chummy with Ben could mean the end of my job at Calamity Jane’s, especially if Cornelius wasn’t able to come up with the funds for the hotel deal and I was suddenly a one-sale agent again.

  “I haven’t worked with Ben enough to answer that.” I decided dodging and weaving was my best strategy this early in the game since Jerry might be testing me on some level.

  “All right. I’ll find out for myself tonight.” Jerry pointed at me. “Tomorrow, let’s talk about your future with Calamity Jane Realty.”

  I’d rather lick a doorknob. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  * * *

  Aunt Zoe met me at the door when I got home. Tonight she wore a long blue bohemian style skirt and a flowing white cotton top with blue diamonds embroidered on it. With her hair pulled back in a braid threaded with rhinestones and her cowboy boots polished, she had me whistling and cat-calling as I circled her.

  “Another date with Mr. Wyoming?” I asked, catching a whiff of the exotic scent of her expensive perfume.

  “We’re heading down to Rapid tonight. May even do some dancing.”

  “You really like this guy, huh?”

  “Yeah, I think I do.”

  As fond as I’d grown of Reid, I wanted to see Aunt Zoe happy. However, I couldn’t resist testing to see if she really was done with the fire captain.

  “I saw Reid today. He asked who your friend was at the lounge last night.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “That’s none of his damned business.” She grabbed her purse off the side table. “And you can tell him I said that next time he tries to nose into my life.”

  I guess she was done. “Okay.”

  “I’m not going back down that road again.” She started out the door, came back and kissed me on the cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. I want to hear about your open house at Cooper’s. Tell me tomorrow over breakfast?”

  “Sure. Have a fun night.” I waited until she’d climbed into her pickup to close the door. “Sorry, Reid,” I said. I went to see what my children were into, and if I could get a piece of the action.