by Ann Charles
“What a dirty rat. Doesn’t he realize how much that might mess with your kids’ heads?”
“He doesn’t care.” Rex was one of those people who only thought of their own needs, in and out of the bedroom. Always had, always would. “I refused to go along with his family act, but he’s determined to get his way in spite of my refusal.”
“Is that why Doc had him pinned up against the wall that time Ben and I came back from lunch early?”
I nodded.
She smiled. “Are you really messing with his car?”
“Not me personally, no.”
“Are you not personally prank calling him, too?”
“I honestly don’t know anything about that.”
Mona’s smile turned upside-down. “You should have told me about Rex before, Vi. I could have insisted that Jerry let me take him as a client.” She tapped her nails on her desktop. “Maybe I still could.”
“I don’t want anyone else here to know who Rex really is.”
“You know my lips are sealed.” She tapped her nails some more. “It all makes sense now.”
“What?” I thought back to the conversations she’d witnessed in the past between Rex and me. “You mean me telling him there’s nothing available to rent?”
“No, his insistence on only you helping him find a place to live no matter how much Ray tried to steal him away when you weren’t here.”
I rolled my eyes. “Ray is such a backstabbing ass-clown.”
She chuckled. “We should make him a World’s Best plaque with that title on it.” Leaning forward onto her elbows, she raised both eyebrows. “What can I do to help?”
My first instinct was to reject her help. She didn’t need to get involved in one of my problems. But then the obvious came to mind. “Help me find him a place to live so he’ll stop having a reason to bug me at work.”
Mona nodded once. “Consider it done. Rex Conner is no longer your client. I’ve just stolen him right out from under you.”
“I think I’m in love with you, Red,” I winked at her, “and your sexy sweater, too.”
She chuckled and straightened her white cashmere sweater that emphasized her chest and then some. “I bet you say that to all of the redheads in your life.”
I thought of Tiffany. “Not really.”
Mona returned to her keyboard, and I went back to staring at the computer screen until it was almost time to leave for my appointment with Katrina King-Mann.
Unsure if I should take any paperwork with me to our meeting, I opted for a couple of business cards and that was it. “I’m going to run home and change into something more suitable for my meeting with Katrina, then I’ll head up the road. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“I brought my lunch today, so don’t worry about having to be back anytime soon. Since Jerry and Ray were going to be working with Ben and the camera crew, I figured I might need to run the ship most of the day.”
“Thanks,” I told her. “For everything.”
“I’m here to help, Vi. We girls need to stick together.”
I collected my cell phone from her on my way out the back door, wondering why Doc hadn’t called or texted yet. I smothered the anxiety smoldering in my gut and trusted that he knew what he was doing and would call later.
Aunt Zoe’s house was empty. I could see a light on in her workshop when I stopped in the kitchen to grab a yogurt from the fridge. I changed in a flash from a professional gunslinger into a boring Realtor and headed up the road to Lead.
Katrina King-Mann’s office was located across the street from the Homestake Opera House in a century-old brick building. Her secretary held down the fort in the front office that looked out on Lead’s main drag. As older ladies went, this one had the sort of no-nonsense stare that belonged in the watchtower of a prison yard. She smelled like she was wearing cheap men’s cologne.
I cleared my throat as I approached her desk, trying my best to smile in spite of the shitty day I’d had so far. “I’m here to see Mrs. Mann.”
“She goes by Ms. King now.”
“Sorry. Ms. King is expecting me.”
“And your name is?”
“Violet Parker. I’m with Calamity Jane Realty.”
The silver haired sentry picked up her phone and hit a button. “A Ms. Parker is here to see you.” She listened and then hung up. “She’ll be right down. You may have a seat over there.” She pointed to a couple of chairs near the front window.
I took a seat, picking up a magazine from the table nearby. I flipped absently through the pages, wondering what in the heck I was doing here. Like I had time to sit and flip through fashion magazines with Caly out there hunting me down and Wilda trying to mind-meld Cornelius into finishing her brother’s botched attempt to kill me.
Staring across the street at the Opera House, I remembered the day I’d watched Dominick Masterson and Caly greet Cornelius outside its glass doors. This office had front row seats for anyone coming and going via W. Main Street. If Katrina King had relocated to the back of the Opera House, she might have been able to spy on her then-husband (like I had) while he felt up his crazy girlfriend in a parking lot a short distance down the street. As we said in the real estate business: location, location, location.
“Ms. Parker?”
I’d been so engrossed in my mental meanderings that I hadn’t heard Katrina King join me.
I rose, holding out my hand toward the very tall, sleek-haired platinum blonde with the extra cake of makeup ringing her eyes. Her face looked around my age, but her neck told an older story.
“You must be Katrina King?”
She nodded, her large-boned hand taking mine in a limp-dick grip that lasted only a second, and then she let go and wiped her palm on her jacket.
Lovely. Apparently, in addition to being a potential murder suspect these days, I also had cooties.
I followed Ms. King past her stoic secretary and up a set of stairs. At the top, it opened up into a spacious loft office with a rather regal sized desk by the plate-glass windows. The desk and visitors’ chairs sat on what I guessed was a very expensive Persian rug. Throughout the room were pricey vases, bowls, and statues—antiques by the look of them.
Who would have guessed such a posh place was hidden upstairs in an old brick building in downtown Lead? Although having seen pictures of what the Opera House had looked like in its heyday, this place would fit right in with the gilded luxury across the street.
“Have a seat, please,” Katrina indicated one of the dark brown leather chairs across from her desk.
I sat, smoothing my red blazer and paisley skirt as I tried to get back into real estate mode.
She settled into the cushy-looking chair behind her desk. “I asked you here this morning because I need your help securing my immortality.”
Hmmm. I looked down at my hands. I was pretty good at tying my shoes, but immortality might be a little out of my range.
“Are you sure you called the right office?” Maybe Calamity Jane’s phone number was one or two numbers off from Mudder Brothers Funeral Parlor.
Her smile barely touched her cheeks. It was like part of her face was a frozen mask. She must have had her fair share of plastic surgery, or maybe she’d had her frown lines overly smoothed via too much neurotoxic proteins lately.
“Oh, I’m sure, Violet. You see, I’d like to purchase a particular building and renovate it, including renaming the stone façade. For that, I need you.”
Well, my chiseling skills were pretty much nonexistent, but I could certainly offer assistance with the purchasing part. “Are we talking about the Sugarloaf Building?”
She nodded, her green eyes hard little crystals behind thick black eyelashes. I’d bet Harvey’s left nut those spider legs on her eyelids were fake.
“It’s not even up for sale,” I said.
A wave from her told me that I didn’t need to worry about such silly stuff. “I’d like you to prepare the necessary paperwork in order to get things rolling.�
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I crossed one leg over the other, buying a little time while I considered something Mona had told me recently. “Isn’t that building owned by Dominick Masterson?”
Her eyes widened a fraction at Dominick’s name. Had I not had my focus locked onto her, I would have missed it. “I’m not certain who currently owns the property. This is the reason I’m hiring you. I need someone to take care of these petty issues.”
I got the feeling Katrina King was accustomed to having someone else make things happen whenever she snapped her fingers.
I frowned.
How did one purchase a building that wasn’t for sale from an owner who seemed to have disappeared into thin air? Even Cooper and his expert criminal sniffer-outers hadn’t been able to locate Dominick since that night he’d blasted out through the Opera House wall.
“Why the Sugarloaf Building?” I asked. As buildings went, it wasn’t anything spectacular. Sure it was a century old brick beauty, but there were several others of those in Lead whose owners would probably be much easier to contact.
“Let’s just say it holds a special place in my heart.”
My cell phone rang in my purse. It was not Harvey’s whistling tune either.
“Sorry,” I lifted my purse from the floor. I would have silenced the ring upon arrival at her office, but I was waiting for Doc to call. “Let me send that to voicemail.”
I glanced down at the screen. It wasn’t Doc. It was a number I didn’t recognize with a strange area code.
“Take it,” Katrina ordered.
“Excuse me?”
She pointed at the phone. “You should take that. I would expect phone calls are important in your profession.”
Nodding, I answered the call. “Violet Parker speaking.” I sent a quick, apologetic smile across Katrina’s desk.
“We want what belongs to—,” a whispery voice started.
“Fuck off!” I didn’t let the caller finish and hung up. I wasn’t going to play these stupid prank call games with Caly. If she wanted me, she needed to come and get me, damn it.
Of course that was some pretty tough talk while sitting here safe and sound in … oh, shit! I grimaced across at Katrina, who sat watching me with her frozen face.
“I’m sorry about that.” I searched for a good excuse, but all I could come up with was, “I’ve been getting some prank calls lately.”
“I see. Have you considered going to the police?”
I shrugged. “It’s a minor thing. Probably some silly teenagers.” Or a killer albino decked out in leather, spikes, and a dog collar—minus the part of her arm I’d removed, of course.
Katrina stared at me several seconds. “How long will it take you to get the offer paperwork ready for the Sugarloaf Building? I’d prefer to move on this sooner rather than later.”
Something about the way she was pushing me to hurry up and help her buy the building reminded me of her ex-husband. He’d been in a hurry to purchase the Carhart house, too. Turned out he had big plans to turn Lead’s Open Cut into a mini-Grand Canyon tourist attraction. I wondered if Katrina’s plans were as “grand” as her ex’s? If she was serious about immortality, it sounded like she was trying to one-up him.
“Before I can answer that,” I said, stuffing my phone back in my purse with silent mode enabled this time. “I need to do a little research on the Sugarloaf Building.”
Katrina stood, signaling the end of our meeting.
Thank God, because while I’d sounded tough and hung up on who I was guessing was Caly, I was not feeling tough on the inside. I needed to talk to Cooper about the phone calls Wanda had received before getting murdered. How often had she received them? At regular intervals? Or had the calls come in more often with each week until her death?
I stood as well, hanging my purse from my shoulder, and followed Katrina down the steps to her front office. Her secretary was nowhere to be seen.
It was getting close to lunchtime. My stomach growled at the thought of food. The yogurt hadn’t really cut it, and apparently a spooky phone call was no match for my appetite.
Katrina held the door for me. “I will expect a call soon regarding what you find out, Violet.”
She spoke like a woman used to getting her way. If she were willing to fork out a chunk of money that would mean a sweet commission for me, I was willing to put up with her high and mighty attitude for the time being.
“I’ll get to work on this as soon as I return to the office.”
I had to, actually, because tomorrow I had to spend the day on camera. Maybe Mona had the bandwidth to help me with this in exchange for a percentage of the commission.
I didn’t offer my hand again to Katrina. With my cooties, I was sure a second shake was out of the question. But I did remember my manners. “Thank you for this opportunity.”
Katrina sniffed and shut the door in my face.
I watched her walk back toward the steps leading up to her office. When she turned out of sight, I sniffed my shirt to see if I stunk as well as had cooties. I smelled my perfume, but that was it. Maybe all of the money her family had been swimming in over the decades had made her overly sensitive to the scent of hard-up single moms.
Back in my SUV, I whipped around and headed back down toward Deadwood, swinging into the parking lot at Bighorn Billy’s. A sprinkling of cars was parked in the gravel.
I was pretty sure bacon would take care of my frustrations.
Fifteen minutes later I sat alone in a booth seat, sipping on a Diet Coke while waiting for my club sandwich with extra bacon when Cooper walked into the diner.
He strode over to my table and took the seat opposite me. “Let me see your phone.”
I handed it over without hesitation. “It’s the number right before yours on the recent call list.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You didn’t call Nyce this time?”
“I’m waiting for him to call me.”
“No word about his visit to The Old Prospector Hotel then I take it?”
I shook my head.
He pulled out a notebook and wrote the phone number down, then tried to call it while his steely eyes searched my face.
When he hung up, I said, “No answer I’m betting.”
He shook his head and handed my phone back.
The waitress stopped by and took an order for coffee and a chicken sandwich from him. Apparently, he was joining me for lunch. With Caly on the loose, I wasn’t averse to his company.
“How did your meeting go with Katrina King?”
I had used the meeting to escape Detective Hawke’s hounding this morning, still thinking I had to be in Lead at nine instead of eleven.
“It was moved to eleven,” I informed him, and then added, “She’s old money through and through.”
“What did she want?”
I shrugged. “Nothing much, just immortality.”
“Immortality, huh? Is that something your marketing-savvy boss has decided to sell in addition to real estate these days? You could paint a halo or devil horns on that billboard of yours out on Interstate 90.”
“Cram it, Cooper.” I sipped on my drink. “Katrina wants me to help her purchase the Sugarloaf Building.”
The waitress delivered his coffee and a small pitcher of cream.
“What does that have to do with immortality?” he asked, stirring in some sugar along with the cream.
“Your guess is as good as mine, but that building is owned by Dominick Masterson.”
He paused in the midst of stirring. “You haven’t run into him again and not mentioned it, have you?”
I rolled my eyes at his suspicion. “Trust me, Cooper. If I see Dominick, I’m calling you first thing so that he can tell you and Detective Hawke for himself that I am in no way responsible for that mess at the Opera House in September.”
That earned me a nod. “What do you do if the owner of a property is listed as missing but not dead?”
“I don’t know. That’s not something we run in
to much in the real estate business. Maybe there’s someone running his estate. Mona will probably know what to do.”
“So the call came in while you were talking with Katrina?”
“Yep.”
“And you took it right there in front of her?”
“She told me to answer it. She said that in my line of work phone calls were important.”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he stirred. “And then what?”
“I started to hear that stupid ‘We want’ bullshit and told the caller to … uh …” my cheeks warmed at how unprofessional I’d been at that moment. “I told her to fuck off.”
Cooper’s blond eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “You said that in front of Katrina King.”
“It wasn’t one of my shining moments.”
“You have shining moments?”
I threw my wadded up straw wrapper at him. “You can fuck off, too.”
He chuckled and took a sip of his coffee. “In all seriousness, I’m not sure antagonizing your caller is a good idea.”
“I’m not going to play a scared little kitten with Caly.”
“We don’t know for certain it is Caly. Someone else could be toying with you, trying to use Caly to incite fear in you.”
“If that’s the case, they picked the wrong mask to hide behind.” I didn’t relish the thought of facing off with that spikey Chihuahua, but I’d faced off with her breed before. They were deadly, but they had a weakness. I just had to be willing to get in close and personal for some fisticuffs.
My phone dinged. I looked down to see who was texting me, breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of Doc’s name.
Where are you? his text read.
“It’s Doc,” I told Cooper and texted where we were.
Almost there. Order something for me, pls.
I signaled the waitress and ordered a Buffalo burger and a side salad, the same thing he’d had last time we’d stopped in to eat.
When she left, I turned back to Cooper. “Did the calls on Wanda’s phone from the unknown numbers increase in frequency before her murder?”
He nodded. “Right before her death, she was getting them multiple times a day.”
“So the first one for me came around noon on Monday. And this one came around that same time today. Two-day intervals at the moment. We’ll see if I get a call tomorrow or in two more days on Friday.”