A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7)

by Ann Charles

  He nodded.

  Hawke reached out and snagged the photo from my hands, his brows crumpling into one wavy caterpillar as he stared at it. “What’s that mean?” he said under his breath.

  It meant Katrina was mixing with some not very nice people who were into raising demons so they could copulate with struggling, blonde single moms to impregnate the poor stressed-out women with their evil spawn. “It means Katrina probably wasn’t in the Sugarloaf Building by accident last night.”

  Katrina had told me she was in search of immortality. Had she known about the lidérc being held in the building? Is that why she wanted me to help her acquire it? Was she under the assumption that connecting with the lidérc would win her immortality like the false theory Aunt Zoe had mentioned? Would it? For all we knew about the lidérc, maybe there was some way it would grant immortality. Although things certainly hadn’t worked that way for Ottó.

  Hawke handed me back the picture.

  Then again, maybe Katrina was the one who had kept calling me about that stupid book. If she had shared the same tattoo, maybe she had been part of the same demon loving club as Lila. Maybe the book on Kyrkozz had been hers, not Lila’s. Come to think of it, the second anonymous call I’d received had been in Katrina’s office and she’d insisted I take the call. But yesterday I had told Caly—or the caller I’d thought had been Caly—to meet me there tonight at ten-forty-seven, not last night.

  “Do you have a time of death yet?” I asked, wondering if Katrina had gotten confused and showed up last night.

  “Nothing concrete yet.” The knowing look Cooper gave me told me he was running on the same track as I was about that anonymous caller.

  “Explain the significance of that tattoo.” Hawke’s pen was poised above his notepad, ready to take notes.

  I tried to act nonchalantly about the goat-pig connection, not wanting to give too much away to Hawke until I’d thought things through myself and had a chance to talk to Doc. “There isn’t much to explain beyond the fact that Lila and Katrina seemed to be connected by more than just being involved sexually with Douglas Mann.”

  Detective Hawke scribbled something about Douglas Mann on his notepad. Good. With any luck I’d succeeded in sending him off on another tangent for now.

  Cooper, on the other hand, was squinting up at me with more than tiredness in his gaze. I had a feeling he’d be wanting to hear Doc’s take on this tattoo business, too.

  I moved onto the final picture. It was a shot of the blood smear on the wall of the second floor near the door. I’d seen it in person and it looked the same in the photo, but I couldn’t think of anything new to say about it.

  I tucked the photos away in the envelope and dropped them on Cooper’s desk.

  “What did you pick up?” Hawke leaned back, his fingers steepled, his gaze skeptical.

  “I need to think about it for a day,” I lied. “You know, let my visions and thoughts sink in.” I also needed to sneak up to the Sugarloaf Building tonight with Doc and Cooper to try to contact the ghost again and get more answers.

  “Ha! I knew you were full of shit. You’re just buying time to come up with more of your phony baloney.”

  I turned to Cooper. “This idiot really needs to work on his interrogation skills. Right now, the last thing I want to do is explain to the numbnuts what I saw in those pictures.”

  Cooper closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

  “That’s because you didn’t see anything beneficial to the case that Coop and I didn’t already note.”

  “Oh, really, Detective Know-It-All?” I grabbed the envelope and fished out the pictures again, singling out the picture with Katrina in her white lace bra. “Tell me what you see in this picture.” I tossed the photo on his desk.

  “She’s not wearing her fancy silk shirt that showed she had probably come from her office.”

  I scoffed. “Tell me something besides what I’ve already schooled you on.”

  He leaned over the desk, frowning down at the picture. After a few seconds, he growled up at me. “I don’t know and I’m too fucking tired to play games this morning.”

  Cooper picked up the picture, studying it for several seconds. “What else am I supposed to be seeing, Parker?”

  I pointed at the red circle on her upper left arm. “Somebody bit her.”

  “I already know that,” Hawke said. “You think this is our first dead body?”

  I bet it was his first dead body with a war hammer planted in her chest. “Why would somebody bite her on the arm and then wrap her in plas …”

  I picked up the picture, taking a second look at that bite mark. Cornelius’s voice played in my head: What is wrong with you? Ouch! Oh, my God! Stop!

  Then I remembered sitting on the stage at the Homestake Opera House after Cornelius’s and my run-in with Caly down in the old pool. Paramedics and cops had been milling around while Doc stood next to me as we waited for me to be cleared to go home. Cooper had come over and asked if I’d received any bites, telling me: Your buddy over there had a nice chunk taken out of his arm. It’ll leave an interesting scar.

  He’d been right. Caly’s bite had left an interesting scar on his arm. And now Katrina had a bite mark on her left arm, just as Cornelius had.

  Was it coincidence? Or had Caly been there last night? Was she the one who’d buried the war hammer in Katrina’s chest? If so, why? And how had someone gotten hold of my war hammer?

  “What is it?” Cooper asked.

  “Nothing. I was just trying to see if I could figure out what brand of bra she’s wearing.” Dropping the photo back on the desk, I looked at the door, feeling the need to flee suddenly. “May I use the ladies room?”

  Cooper’s head tilted sideways, as if that helped him read my thoughts easier. “What aren’t you telling us, Parker?”

  “That I drank a big cup of coffee this morning and if you don’t let me use the restroom soon, there will be a puddle on your floor.”

  “Go.”

  I didn’t have to be told twice. I raced down the hall and escaped into the women’s restroom. As soon as I’d closed the bathroom stall door, I leaned my head against it, my breath coming in pants.

  Shit. Had Caly killed again? While there wasn’t one hundred percent evidence of that fact, I had a strong hunch she’d planted that war hammer in Katrina King. She was certainly strong enough to deliver that kind of blow.

  The question was, had the lidérc been inside of Katrina King prior to her being bludgeoned with the war hammer? Was that how it had escaped its prison? Had Caly known the lidérc was inside of Katrina? Was it part of some grand scheme or an accidental discovery? To what end? Why would Caly want to free the lidérc?

  I blew out a breath, wishing I had some crystal ball to give me the answers to all of these questions.

  I took my time in the restroom, washing my hands thoroughly as my brain raced. When I opened the door, Cooper stood waiting.

  “You think I was going to make a run for it?”

  One side of his mouth tilted upward. “Something like that.” He grabbed me by the elbow and tugged me along, only we turned toward the front doors instead of his office.

  “Where we going?”

  “You’re leaving. Detective Hawke is too tired to look at your hair any longer.”

  Thank God! “Yeah, well I’m sick of looking at his bushy sideburns.”

  Cooper made sure I walked outside without stopping to chit chat with any officers along the way. He glanced around us and then leaned in closer. “I’ll pick Nyce and you up around ten tonight at your aunt’s place,” he said quietly.

  “You’re not joining us for supper?” I asked with false sweetness.

  “I’m a little busy with this murder business of yours.”

  “This one wasn’t my doing.”

  “I’m sure you’re tied in here somewhere.” He frowned out at the street. “What’s with the bite, Parker?”

  “I’m wondering if Caly was there
last night with Katrina.”

  “You think she’s the killer?”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

  He cursed. “Another albino drive-by killing. Lucky me.”

  “At least she didn’t go up in smoke.”

  “Not yet, Parker.” He shook his head, looking ten years older in the harsh morning sunshine. “Not yet.”

  * * *

  True to his word, Cooper showed up after I’d put the kids to bed. He looked less haggard but still frayed around the edges. In addition, he’d grown a large, bearded appendage with two gold teeth and a pair of suspenders—aka his uncle.

  “You here to hang out with Aunt Zoe?” I asked Harvey.

  “No way, girlie. I’m here to make sure nothin’ happens to ya up in that ol’ buildin’.”

  I looked at Cooper, who shrugged and said, “When I asked to borrow his pickup, he insisted on coming along and refused to get out even when I threatened to shoot him.”

  Harvey grinned. “I told ya Coop was all talk and no bite.”

  “I’d beg to differ,” I muttered and grabbed my coat.

  While Aunt Zoe made sure I was armored with her charms and wards and some small bundles of birch to burn if we needed to keep the lidérc away, Cooper filled us in on the current status of Katrina’s murder, which hadn’t changed much from the previous night. They had no definite suspects or motivations for killing Katrina.

  The war hammer had been bagged and sent off to be examined. He couldn’t confirm yet if there were prints found on it. Would Caly even leave fingerprints if she was the killer? If so, were they like human fingerprints or something else?

  “I still think this is a bad idea,” Aunt Zoe said as Doc opened the front door to leave.

  Earlier at supper, Aunt Zoe had been full of reasons why Doc and I shouldn’t go even after I’d told her that I hadn’t picked up a single sign of the lidérc. She wasn’t convinced it had escaped, worrying it may have found a deeper place to hide until I returned.

  “The building is empty,” I repeated. “We’ll be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right, Violet Lynn.” After promising she would keep a close eye on my kids until I returned—and I would return, I assured her—she gave me a hug goodbye.

  “Cooper.” She made him hold up before stepping out the door. “Wear this while you’re in that building or anyplace else you feel something isn’t quite right.”

  Cooper’s brows rose as she looped a leather string around his neck with one of her charms dangling over his chest. “So anywhere near Parker qualifies, right?”

  Aunt Zoe chuckled, patting his chest. “Something like that.”

  I aimed a mock glare at her.

  Her smile faded as she watched us pile into Harvey’s Ford and back out of the drive.

  Then we were off, heading up the hill to Lead for another round of ghostly fun. The only difference was this time Harvey had taken Natalie’s place and Cooper’s cruiser had been swapped for the old man’s pickup, which Cooper explained would blend with the other vehicles on that street if any cops drove past.

  Cooper parked about a block down from the Sugarloaf Building and pulled out three flashlights, handing out two—one to Doc and the other to his uncle.

  “Where’s mine?”

  “I only have three.”

  “Then give me yours.” His had a long handle, like those I’d seen on cop reality shows.

  “Nobody touches my flashlight.” He pointed his light at Doc. “You share with Nyce.”

  Maybe I’d just knock Cooper out and take his, like I took his gun back in Mudder Brothers months ago. How would the bossy detective like them apples?

  Doc handed me the flashlight. “Light the way, Killer.”

  “You don’t need your shotgun, Uncle Willis.”

  Harvey snorted. “I’d sooner leave my pecker behind than Bessie when it comes to that ol’ buildin’.” He held up the shotgun. “She’s comin’ with me along with those fancy charms Zoe gave me.”

  Grumbling about pain in the ass old men and blondes, Cooper stuffed the pickup keys in his pocket.

  “You ready for this?” Doc asked Cooper.

  “Shouldn’t that be my question?” He led the way up the street toward the building.

  “Upstairs,” I directed as we drew near. “I have a feeling that’s where the party started.”

  “The plastic came from downstairs,” Cooper said, hesitating at the base of the outside stairway.

  “Just humor me, Detective.”

  The four of us headed up the steps, Harvey bringing up the rear—my rear. “Don’t shoot me in the butt,” I warned him when Bessie bumped my backside.

  “Don’t ya worry yer pretty head. I’m saving my bullets for yer Hungarian devil.”

  Cooper removed the crime scene tape and unlocked the second floor door.

  “Let me go first,” I nudged him aside. “You’re a sitting duck if it’s still in there.”

  Amazingly, he obeyed. “Close the door behind you,” he told Harvey after we were all inside.

  We stood near the door, shining flashlights into the shadow-filled corners while the wind whistled through the old window frames.

  I moved to the center of the room, closed my eyes, and tried to focus on the candle flame like before.

  After several seconds of twiddling my thumbs in my mind’s eye, I blew out a breath of relief. “It’s not here.” Although, that relief was short lived, because if it wasn’t here where was it? Out there free? Hunting for a new host?

  “The lidérc may be missing,” Doc said, “but there’s someone else here.” He walked toward the dark hallway. “I think it’s lurking back here. Violet, can you bring the light over here.”

  I did, shining the beam down the dark hall, seeing nothing but floating dust particles.

  “Come on,” he headed down the hallway, pausing outside the room with the chair where we’d found the lidérc Sunday night.

  I held onto his arm as I shined the light around the room. The chair had been knocked over sometime between when we were here last night and now. “It’s in here.”

  “What does it smell like?” I whispered.

  He looked down at me. “A ghost.” I could make out his grin in the semi-darkness.

  “Do they make that as a candle scent, you think?”

  “Sexy curves and a quick wit. Are you available for a drink after work tonight, hot stuff?” He walked over to the chair, setting it upright.

  “One drink and that’s it. I’m not easy, you know.”

  “I was hoping you’d be game to try some sex on the beach.”

  “Vodka isn’t my liquor of choice. I’m more of a tequila girl.”

  “I wasn’t talking about vodka.” He looked over at me. “But you are my licker of choice, Boots.”

  Harvey snickered from the doorway. “I’m gonna have to try that one down at the senior center during the next luau night.”

  Doc sobered as he looked around the room. “I think the ghost in here is a man. The scent is older, reminds me of an old barbershop. Come here, tequila queen.” He pointed at the chair.

  “Am I sitting?” I asked, hesitating partway across the room.

  He nodded.

  “You’re not going to tie me to that chair, are you? Because I’ve been tied to chairs in haunted buildings before, and each time somebody ended up dead.”

  Harvey raised the shotgun, aiming at the back wall. “Nobody is dyin’ on my watch, girlie.”

  “Lower that shotgun, Uncle Willis, or I’m taking it away.” Cooper’s mug showed up over Harvey’s shoulder.

  “Spoilsport.” Harvey lowered the gun, joining Doc next to me as I settled onto the chair.

  “Why am I sitting? You’re the mental medium.”

  “This ghost is playing hard to get. I need you.”

  “Can’t you have Cooper threaten to shoot it if it won’t come out to play?”

  Doc squatted in front of me. “Stop being a chicken.”

&
nbsp; “But I don’t like getting my feathers ruffled.”

  Nudging Doc’s leg, Harvey snickered. “I’ll bet that’s not what she was sayin’ the other night when ya showed her yer rooster.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Keep it up, old man, and I’ll hire one of your sexy widows to choke your chicken for real.”

  “I’ve heard tell that near death experiences can double a man’s—”

  “Stop!” I glared at his toothy grin before looking at Doc. “What am I doing in this chair?”

  “You’re going under with me.”

  “Can’t we go get ice cream together instead?”

  He chuckled. “We’ll do that when we’re done here.”

  “You’re not using me as blonde bait again, are you?”

  “No. I have something else in mind.”

  “What?”

  His hands warmed my thighs. “Close your eyes and trust me.”

  “This sounds like the beginning of a bad date.”

  “A blind date,” Harvey corrected.

  “Violet,” Doc said, his thumbs stroking my legs through my jeans. “Focus on the task at hand.”

  I closed my eyes, enjoying the heat of his touch. “What task?”

  “Materialization.”

  One eye opened. “Come again?”

  “Making something out of nothing.”

  I cocked my head to the side. “How about I make like a chicken and fly away?”

  “Chickens are lousy fliers,” Doc said in a low, calming voice. “Now close that eye and let’s start with a candle flame.”

  I did, only instead of one candle tonight, there were two right out of the gate.

  That was different. Maybe my inner medium was drunk and seeing double. Oh well, I went with it and played with the two candle flames, entwining them together, watching their flames grow, doubling in size, flaring brighter before sinking down again as I pulled them apart.

  “I need you to look into the darkness for whoever is here with us tonight.” Doc’s voice was velvety, calming me. “Bring the lurker into the light.”

  I was entranced with the fire, merging the flames then separating them, then merging again. Each time I brought them together, the flames grew taller and fatter, making small explosions of fire and sparks when they touched. I pulled them apart again, seeing small sparks flitter upward into the darkness. Then I touched them together. The explosion of light and heat made me shield my face for a second.