by Ann Charles
“Count her down, Layne,” Doc said, pinning my shoulders in place.
“Ten, nine, eight,” Layne said, smacking the plastic next to me with each number.
“Come on, Mom,” Addy switched to cheerleader in a flash. “You can shake him. Buck him off.”
I wiggled under Doc’s weight, shoving my hips up a couple of times to try to throw him. Doc’s gaze focused in on my lips, his face dropping lower. “You’re going down, sweetheart,” he said above my mouth, our noses almost touching.
“Six, five, four,” Layne counted down.
Without warning, I raised up and kissed Doc, tugging on his lower lip with my teeth.
His pupils flared, darkening. He kissed me back, sinking down onto me, his muscles loosening along with his grip on my shoulders. Before he could figure out my ploy, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pushed against him, urging him to roll onto his back. He complied, taking me with him so that I was on top. Then I straddled him and sat upright with a victory grin.
“Girls rule!” I shouted, holding my hand out for a high five from my daughter.
Both of my kids were glaring at me.
“You kissed him,” Layne accused.
“I did.” What was the big deal? I’d kissed Doc hello and goodbye in front of my kids before. This kiss had been less heated than one or two others they’d witnessed by accident.
“That’s playing dirty, Mother,” Addy said, her attention shifting back and forth between Doc and me.
I felt Doc chuckle under me. “Very dirty,” he said, his hands resting on my thighs.
“Not really. Doc didn’t have to kiss me back.”
“Why did you kiss her back?” Layne turned his glare onto Doc and crossed his arms over his chest.
“I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” Doc explained with laughter in his voice.
I snorted. “Please. Like you could resist my feminine wiles.”
“What are wiles?” Addy asked.
“They’re the charms your mom uses to make me follow her around like an obedient little puppy.”
“You shouldn’t have kissed her back,” Layne was still bent out of shape.
“Do I have wiles?” Addy walked over to the mirror by the front door, standing on her toes to check her reflection for wiles. She smiled in the mirror, then took her glasses off and smiled again with a squint.
“Are you mad at me for kissing your mom, Layne?” Doc asked, suddenly serious.
My gut tightened. I’d hoped my kids were starting to get used to the idea of Doc and me as a couple, but maybe Layne wasn’t so keen on the idea yet.
“Yes.” Layne emphasized his feelings with a foot stomp.
“Can you see my wiles when I smile?” Addy asked the mirror, her glasses back on her face.
“Definitely,” Doc answered Addy, but his focus stayed on Layne. “Why does it make you mad, Layne? I thought you and I had an understanding about my purpose here.”
What was Doc’s purpose here? I frowned back and forth between the two males in my life. I had an idea of the role I wanted Doc to fill, but curiosity had me licking my lips, wanting to ask for his take on it. However, I waited along with Doc for Layne’s response.
Layne’s chin lifted. “I’m mad because you let her win. I’m sick of the girls always winning in this house. How are we going to beat these girls at games if you keep letting Mom cheat?”
A hiccup of laughter edged with a small sob escaped from my lips before I could swallow it down. I blinked away a rush of silly tears of happiness before either Layne or Doc noticed them.
Addy rejoined us, clueless that her brother had finally conceded a place for Doc in our little family. “Doc, can I use my wiles on boys at school?”
I didn’t give Doc a chance to reply. “Don’t even think about it, Adelynn Renee.”
“You know, Layne, you’re right.” Doc’s hands skimmed up over my thighs to my hips, locking on. Before I realized what was going on, he spun around and had me lying flat on my back under him again. His knees and forearms had me bracketed in, his body weight holding me prisoner. “We should punish the cheater. Come on, you two. It’s pile-up time.”
I cried out as the kids climbed onto Doc’s back and he pressed down enough to make me gasp and writhe. Squeals of laughter followed until I cried, “Uncle” enough times for them to let me up.
The phone rang as the kids climbed off Doc’s back.
Doc pulled me to my feet, holding onto my hand even after I was steady on my feet. “You okay, cheater?”
“I think you guys popped my spleen.”
Harvey stepped in through the front door, a pizza in hand. The kids yipped in excitement, following the whisker-covered codger into the kitchen like lemmings.
Doc tugged me closer. “Popping a spleen will teach you for seducing me.”
“I thought you liked it when I seduced you.”
“It’s my undoing every time, querida.” He lifted my knuckles to his lips, kissing them. “How are your sister and Rex today?”
I’d called Doc yesterday afternoon and filled him in on what had gone down at my office, insisting he stay away from Aunt Zoe’s last night. I’d wanted him to wait to come over again until I was sure the coast was clear with no other Susan sightings.
“Nonexistent.”
“Good.”
“Violet Lynn,” Aunt Zoe called down. “That was Reid on the phone. He’s on his way over. Get your butt up here.”
Doc turned me toward the stairs. “You heard your aunt, Killer. Go get your ass-kicking clothes on.”
He tried to smack my butt, but I blocked him and shook my fist at him, threatening. Then I ruined my tough girl act by giggling all of the way up the stairs to my room.
Fifteen minutes later I came back down the steps. The war hammer was tucked away in a duffle bag Aunt Zoe had dropped off on her way downstairs.
Reid and Doc stood talking quietly in the dining room. Both quieted when I handed Doc the duffle bag.
Doc hefted the bag, hitting me with raised brows.
“My hammer.” I patted him on the chest and then headed into the kitchen to kiss the kids goodbye.
Aunt Zoe had a bag of her own. She had it slung over her shoulder as she drank down a glass of water. Dressed in jeans and one of her well-worn flannel shirts, I’d never have guessed she was on her way to face off with some sort of Hungarian devil.
She handed me a glass of water. “You should get something to eat, too.”
I shook my head. My stomach was tied up in knots. “I’m good. I had a ham sandwich earlier.”
Both kids had Joker-like pizza sauce grins that spread wide onto their cheeks. I kissed the tops of their heads and threatened plenty of trouble if they didn’t listen to Harvey.
When I got to the old boy, I squeezed his shoulder. “You be good, too.”
“Don’t you worry none ‘bout us,” he told me. “We’re gonna hunker down and spin our spurs ‘til it’s time to hit the bedroll.”
“Let’s go, Violet,” Aunt Zoe called from the dining room.
With one last, “Behave yourselves!” I left the kitchen.
Aunt Zoe held the front door for me. Reid and Doc waited outside for us.
“You ready for this?” Aunt Zoe asked as I pulled on my coat.
“Not really.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?” I buttoned my coat. Shouldn’t an executioner be revved up for battle?
She followed me onto the front porch. “In this game, being overly sure of yourself will get you killed every time.”
I laughed. It sounded cold and brittle like the night air. “If that’s true, this little chicken will live forever.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Holy creepy-oli.” I looked up at the Sugarloaf Building and its chain-locked, paint-peeling doors. “This is a dead-body-buried-in-the-basement moment just waiting to happen.”
Reid had parked his truck so that his headlights spotlighted the front of
the old two-story structure which otherwise stood alone in the darkness. It was well out of reach of the soft orange glow from the few streetlights spaced out along Washington Street below. For some reason, I had thought the building was down on Main Street, but Aunt Zoe informed me that I probably had it confused with the building owned by the Sugarbell family, as in one Tiffany Sugarbell.
Grrrr. Hiss.
Located on the hillside above State Rt. 85, the Sugarloaf Building had a clear view across the valley of Homestake’s Yates Shaft headframe, along with the few remaining surface buildings left behind after the mine had shut down. It had stood at this vantage point, watching for decade after decade throughout the twentieth century as the Western Hemisphere’s largest goldmine had sprouted and flourished … and then floundered and faded.
Here it sat still, deteriorating one brick at a time while over on the opposite hillside the specks of gold no longer lured the fortune seekers and their mighty drills. Instead, deep down in the darkness, much more elusive particles danced just out of reach, tempting the knowledge seekers and their even mightier curiosity.
Aunt Zoe joined me in the cold evening air. “I had hoped to live my life without ever having to step inside this place.”
“I can see why.” I stared at the masonry walls that had been repaired over the decades with different colored bricks and in some places plain old concrete. The outside stairway had a roof sheathed with rust-spotted, corrugated tin while old boards were nailed every which way along the sides. “It’s like a rag doll version of a building, patched together with spare scraps.”
“Too bad its stuffing is rotten.”
The upper story windows were dark, no sparks of light or flames or anything that would lead the average bear to think the Sugarloaf Building was anything other than a decaying piece of history.
“Maybe the flash of Reid’s watchband scared the lidérc away,” I said.
“Maybe,” Aunt Zoe sniffed. “But you’d better get that war hammer out anyway.”
“Ready, Zo? Sparky?” Reid asked, zipping up the front of his canvas coat.
“Lead the way, Martin,” Aunt Zoe said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
Doc walked around from the back of the old building, his pants swishing in the tall dead weeds, his flashlight skimming over the rocks and litter that filled the lot. He’d wanted to take a gander at the building from all sides before heading in. He joined us as we followed Reid to the front door.
“Did you find anything interesting around back?” I asked as we waited for Reid to find the key the fire department had been given to pop the padlock securing the chain.
“More of the same—torn pieces of tar paper, random boards and hardware, and some broken bricks.”
“What’s up the hillside behind it?”
“Mainly trees from what I can tell. The Open Cut is just over there.” He pointed off to the side. He shined the light up at the crumbling cornices. “This building seems like it’s in the wrong part of Lead. The only other brick structures up here belonged to Homestake, right?”
“Yes,” Aunt Zoe answered. “They were part of the Homestake Electrical Department back in their heyday.”
We’d passed the few remaining Homestake brick buildings on this side of State Rt. 85 on the way up here. They were in pristine condition in comparison to the ramshackle mess we were about to enter. Why Jane, Katrina King, or anyone else would be interested in this particular building was beyond me. It looked like a stiff winter wind could blow it over.
“Seems like I remember there being a conveyor belt that crossed above the road over to Homestake from somewhere around here,” I said.
“There was. It transported ore across to Homestake.” She looked out toward the gold mine turned research lab. “This area of Lead was mainly housing for miners.”
“Of any particular ethnicity?” Doc asked. “Weren’t there different districts of Lead where miners grouped depending on their background?”
“Sure.” She focused on Reid, who had singled out a key and was holding it up in the glare from the headlights. “The Italians were on Railroad and Miners Avenues and Ridgeroad in the Sunnyhill area. The Slavs were mainly behind the Opera House in Slavonian Alley, and there were a bunch of Finnish who lived down in the Park Avenue and Parkdale region. Over here on Washington Street, the miners were mainly from Cornwall. That group brought pasties to Lead, and Ottó Sugarloaf apparently built himself a home amongst them.”
She lost me at “pasties.” Just thinking about those pastries filled with meat and potatoes had me licking my lips.
The clanking of chain links followed by creaky hinges brought our history lesson to a close. Back to Hungarian Devil Hunting 101.
“Normally I’d allow you ladies to go first,” Reid said, blocking the doorway as Aunt Zoe tried to enter, “but not tonight.”
“Reid, please step aside,” Aunt Zoe spoke with a quiet firmness.
He pointed his flashlight at Zoe’s chest. “Zo, don’t you leave my side.” His light moved to me. “As for you, Sparky, try not to burn this place down on my watch.” His tone was light, but tension underlined it.
Aunt Zoe sighed. “Reid, forget about this macho crap and let me lead the way.”
“You don’t know the layout of the building.”
“If there is a lidérc in there, knowing the floor plan won’t make a difference.”
“I’m the fire investigator here. I’m liable if something happens to any of you, so I lead. If you don’t like my rule,” he spoke directly to Aunt Zoe, “we can cancel this little field trip right now, and I’ll put the chains and padlock back on these doors.”
A growl came from Aunt Zoe. “Fine.” She fished in her bag for a few seconds and pulled out what looked like a bundle of twigs. “Lead the way, Fire Captain Martin.”
Reid stepped inside, disappearing into the thick shadows, followed by Aunt Zoe and me. Doc brought up the rear, closing the door behind us. I half expected it to lock on its own, barring our escape, but it turned out my imagination was getting ahead of itself.
Inside was one bigger room up front, a living area maybe or an office waiting room. As Reid led us through the thick layers of dust, pieces of plaster that had fallen from the ceiling, and critter droppings, our flashlights covered every square inch of the room … especially the dark corners.
“When was the last time anyone occupied this building?” Doc asked.
“I’m not sure,” Reid said, “but according to the paperwork on it, it failed inspection over a decade ago. It’s not listed as officially condemned, but it needs some serious capital sunk into it to fix the flagged problems.”
And some serious air fresheners. I stepped over to one of the plastic-covered windows, wishing I could tear the thick sheet away and let in a little Black Hills pine-scented air, even if it were freezing cold. The place reeked like the local wildlife had thrown a rave party in here.
I tried to see through the plastic. Its opaqueness along with years of built up grime and dust turned the street lights below into blurry orange-brown circles. It swished slightly as a breeze whistled through the old wooden window frame.
I heard the rustle of Doc’s jacket as he came up behind me.
“Are you picking up anything?” I asked as my gaze blurred along with the street lights.
“If you mean signals from the next galaxy over,” his voice was laced with laughter, “all I’m getting is static at the moment.”
I looked up at him, sticking my flashlight under my chin with the beam aimed upward, giving him my best spooky face. “I mean signals from the dead.” I tried to sound like Vincent Price, but imitations weren’t my specialty.
“Who was that supposed to be?”
I stuck my tongue out at him and then lowered my flashlight.
After a quiet chuckle, his smile flat-lined. “There’s a definite unnatural scent in the air, sort of smells sweet and citrusy, like Brylcreem or some other pomade.”
“A little
dab will do ya,” I repeated the company’s old slogan.
“But I’m not sure if I’m picking up something ectoplasm based or not. I haven’t noticed any of the other usual signs.”
“If it’s not a ghost, what could it be?”
“Residual energy embedded in the building’s bones.”
“Is that something you come across often? Residual energy?”
He nodded. “Especially in buildings as old as this. But I’m not well-schooled in Paranormal Psychometry, so I notice it every now and then, but that’s it.”
Reid’s light swung our way. “Paranormal Psycho-what?”
“Psychometry. It’s the idea that an object may have an energy field that can be ‘read’ by certain mediums, giving information about the history or future of someone associated with that object. You’ve probably heard of mediums who use psychometry when working with police to help find missing people. The medium will hold onto the victim’s personal belonging, like a teddy bear or hair brush, and employ a dose of precognition to determine a possible future location where the missing individual might be found.”
Reid motioned for us to follow and piloted the way down a hallway that appeared to lead to several smaller rooms in the back. I counted five open doorways. The layout sort of reminded me of the floorplan in Calamity Jane Realty, only with a few more rooms in the back.
“Is this residual energy something you can sense with these medium abilities you were telling me about before we left Zo’s place?” Reid asked, stopping in the dark doorway of the first room and glancing back at Doc.
Ah, so that’s what they’d been murmuring about in the dining room when I’d come down the stairs.
I joined them, peeking between their shoulders into the room. It was empty except for plaster littering the floor below a hole in one of the interior walls.
“Yep.” Doc waited for me and Aunt Zoe to step back before squeezing past Reid to enter the room. He shined the light into the back corner and sniffed a few times.
“Well?” Aunt Zoe asked from where she and I were peeking in again, watching him work his magic from the hallway.
He shook his head but wore a frown when he returned to the hall.