by Ann Charles
She smirked. “And you wonder where Addy gets her procrastination trait.”
“I know, I know. I’ll get to it. It’s just that history isn’t my favorite subject.”
“This isn’t just any old history, Violet Lynn. It’s key to your survival.”
The book she was talking about was filled with details concerning previous executioners in our family line, including their choice of weapons, tales of executions, and favorite attire for killing. Okay, so that last part wasn’t true, but maybe if they’d listed their outfits for each kill I’d be able to picture the scene better and find the stories less dry. Both times I’d tried to really dig into the book, I’d fallen asleep on the open pages.
“I’m going to read it, I swear. I’ve been a little preoccupied with work and life is all.”
“And Doc.” Her gaze challenged me to deny it.
I didn’t. “And Doc.”
She snorted.
“I can’t help it, Aunt Zoe. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man in my life, especially one who likes me in spite of my quirks.” And one who could kiss the clothes right off of me.
She lifted my chin, searching my eyes, her forehead wrinkling. “Ah, baby girl. You’re in too deep.”
“Way over my head.” I thought I’d been gaga for Doc before he started spending the night with me regularly, but sleeping next to him had upped the ante. My heart wasn’t the only thing in the pot to lose now. If he left, he’d take my soul along as a two-for-one deal.
“I’d tell you to be careful, but it won’t do you any good now.”
I shook my head. “I’m a runaway freight train. There’s no walking away from this if I crash.” That’s what scared me about Susan trolling my waters again. Why couldn’t a twister come to town and carry her away to Munchkinland for good?
“You know I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if needed, but I’ll be shocked if Doc pulls the shit Reid did.” She rose, taking her cup to the sink.
Reid Martin was Deadwood’s fire captain—the one who’d come up with my “Sparky” moniker. While he was an ace at putting out fires around town, he had a history of lighting flames in Aunt Zoe’s bed. Unfortunately, their relationship had flickered a few years back due to his doubts. Then someone’s heart ended up burned—Aunt Zoe’s—and the fire got doused. But underneath it all, the coals still smoldered when they were together. I had my fingers crossed the flames would catch hold again, raging into a full-fledged inferno with a little time and help, but Aunt Zoe was being stubborn about adding any fuel to the fire. One burn in a lifetime was plenty for her.
The water shut off overhead.
Wow, that was a quick shower. I probably shouldn’t have rushed Cooper. Warm water might have released some of that pent-up frustration that had him snarling at the end of his chain each day.
“Violet, you need to learn about the executioners in our family line.” Aunt Zoe pulled a dishrag from the drawer and wet it, picking up Cooper’s coffee cup. “You’ve been lucky so far, but that luck will run dry. Mark my words.”
I sighed, knowing when my aunt had her teeth locked onto a bone. “Fine. How about I read a page or two each night?”
“You can’t.” She washed the cup, rinsed it, and set it in the dish rack to dry.
I joined her at the sink. “I can’t?” I didn’t understand. Hadn’t she just said I needed to read the book?
“Nope.” She washed and rinsed her own cup, and then took mine from me. “I put the book in Doc’s pickup last night before he left.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized that the best way to teach you about the past is through Doc.” She rinsed my mug and set it next to the other two, draping the rag over the faucet. “You always were more of an auditory learner anyway.”
The sound of the front door opening and closing made us both look toward the dining room archway.
“Hello?” Natalie Beals called, strolling into the kitchen. She shivered, unzipping her black leather coat. The wind had whipped her wavy brown hair into a wild state and kissed her cheeks pink. “Guess what?”
“Chicken butt,” I replied, playing one of our childhood games.
She smiled, her eyes lighting up. “Guess why?”
“Chicken thigh.”
“Exactly.” She shucked her coat. “Woo wee! It’s colder than a witch’s tit out there this morning.”
I leaned against the counter. “You really need to stop feeling up witches.”
She finger combed her hair. “Where will I get my kicks then? I’m on sabbatical from cruising for warlocks, remember?”
Natalie had a history of relationship disasters. After the last explosion involving her Mr. Clean-looking boyfriend and a tramp with tasseled nipples, she’d decided to take a sabbatical from men. After a bumpy start, she’d managed to stay on course and was a more confident woman for it. This newfound assuredness was why I was hesitant to bring Cooper’s interest to her attention. What if the only reason he was attracted to her again was because she wasn’t shopping for a relationship? What if they got together and she fell head over heels like I had with Doc and then Cooper left her crying in the gutter, a bottle of tequila her new best friend? What if …
Damn. As if I didn’t have enough worries of my own. There was no need to take on the weight of something that hadn’t even happened.
Grinning, I told her, “I’ve heard tales that one of the older washing machines at Spuds and Suds has an especially pleasurable spin cycle.”
She pulled out a chair and fell into it. “Criminy. You know you’re at a low point in life when you’re hitting laundromats for your next orgasm.”
A movement behind her caught my eye. Cooper stood in the entryway, freshly showered and shaven, his hair only spikey where it was supposed to be now. His focus was locked on Natalie, like she’d been singing to him from the rocky shore.
Speaking of low points in life, Cooper represented a current one of mine. “Did you even use soap?” I asked him, amazed at his speed in and out of the shower.
Natalie did a double take at the sight of him, turning back to me with a what-the-hell gape.
“Yes.” He leaned against the arch, dragging his gaze off Natalie to better glare at me. “You have a lot of soap options.”
I raised my hands. “Guilty, Detective.” Doc had a thing for flavored soap, so I’d made it a goal to turn my shower into a buffet line. “Is that illegal in Deadwood?”
His lips thinned. “Why do they smell like different flavors of ice cream?”
He thought they smelled like ice cream? Interesting. That gave me an idea. Something new to torture him with the next time he pissed me off. “Do you like ice cream?”
Aunt Zoe cleared her throat. “I’m making fresh coffee, Natalie. You want some?” She grabbed a coffee filter, filling the coffee pot with water.
“Uh, yeah.” Nat glanced from me to Cooper and back. “Zoe, is your front door now an entrance into a parallel dimension?”
“Not that I know of.” Aunt Zoe added coffee grounds and hit the brew button. “More coffee for you, Cooper?”
“Thanks. I’ll take one for the road, if you don’t mind.”
Oh, good. That meant he was leaving soon. Early morning interrogations made me jittery.
Natalie stood and walked over to Cooper. “He looks like Coop.” She poked him in the chest. “He feels like Coop.” Then she went up on her tiptoes and sniffed near his neck. “He even smells like Coop with a dollop of coconut ice cream on the side.”
A muscle in Cooper’s jaw pulsed as he stared down at her.
“He busts my balls just like Cooper, too,” I told her.
Natalie scratched her head. “What did you do with Doc?”
“He’s at home.”
Aunt Zoe spoke up, answering Natalie’s questioning stare. “I’ve invited Cooper to stay with us for a while.”
Natalie searched Zoe’s face, then Cooper’s, and then mine. “Are you guys playing some kind of pract
ical joke on me?”
“No joke.” I wished it was, but it seemed that I’d been blessed with not just one new roommate this week, but two. Unfortunately, neither was the man I wanted in my life day and night.
“Cooper is going to stay here? With Violet?”
“Temporarily,” he clarified.
“Did you get in a fight with Doc?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I figured Nyce could use a break from me.”
“You think I was born yesterday, Coop? There’s no way in hell you’d leave Doc for Violet. Tell me what’s really going on.” When he didn’t answer, she turned to me. “Spill it, Vi, or I’m going to give you the queen mother of all noogies.”
I glared at Cooper. “You better not let it come to that.”
“Fine. You can tell her, but that’s it. Nobody else.”
“Tell me what?”
I filled Natalie in on Detective Hawke’s newest attempt to blackmail me, Cooper’s promise to keep me in his sights 24/7, and Jerry’s latest effort to turn me into a billboard strumpet. The last part had nothing to do with her catching Cooper in my aunt’s kitchen first thing in the morning, but while I had the spillway open, I figured I might as well empty the reservoir.
“So you’re going to spend every single night here?” At his nod, she asked, “Where are you going to be sleeping?”
That was an interesting question coming from a girl who claimed she wasn’t interested in anything the detective had to offer outside of the law.
“He’s on the couch for now,” Aunt Zoe answered.
I hit her with a raised brow. What was this for now business? Did she have plans to add a spare bedroom?
Natalie looked at Cooper. “Sleeping on that couch will make you wake up feeling like you’ve spent the night in a boxing ring. I’d take the recliner if I were you, old man.” Her grin was teasing.
“Old man?” He raised one eyebrow. “I don’t have that many years on you, Beals.”
Natalie tipped her head to the side. “How do you know my age?”
I scoffed. “He’s a cop. He probably has your date of birth, weight, and organ donor status memorized. Hey, that reminds me, what do you want to do for your birthday?” Her big day was coming up soon. “Do you want a wild party or just the two of us?”
She frowned, rubbing her chin. “Let’s keep it to you and me at the Purple Door Saloon. We can line up tequila shots.”
“I never turn down tequila.”
“I’ll watch the kids,” Aunt Zoe offered, earning an air-kiss from me.
Natalie thumbed in Cooper’s direction. “Are you going to introduce him to your parents this weekend?”
“How do you know about that?”
“A little birdy named Addy told me when I called here looking for you yesterday.” Her full lips split into a grin. “Then she asked me if I knew whether or not you’re giving away free milk to Doc.”
I cursed my mother again for opening her big mouth.
“I’ll step out while Violet’s parents are here,” Cooper answered.
“You should stay.” Natalie’s eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’m sure it would make things more confusing if a man other than her boyfriend is sleeping here with her.”
“Cooper is not sleeping with me.” I drilled her with a hard stare, wanting to make it clear that this would not be a repeat of the royal fuckup that happened with Doc and her and me after she’d staked a claim on him last summer. While she’d stated multiple times that she wasn’t interested in getting to first base again with Cooper, I’d seen her watch his butt when he ran around the infield. There was still a spark there between them, and I was going to stay way up high in the bleachers this time, no matter how the game played out.
“I know that,” she said. “But that doesn’t need to be public information.” When I grabbed a spatula and threatened to throw it at her, she held up her hands, laughing. “Hear me out. If the Bitch from Hell is with your mom and dad, wouldn’t you rather sic her on Coop than let her sniff around Doc?”
Cooper frowned. “Are we talking about Tiffany again?”
“Again?” Natalie looked at me. “What’s up with Tiff—oh! The billboard.” She sucked air through her teeth. “That’s gonna go south fast.”
“I know, right?”
“We’d better put our heads together and plan a solid defense. Do you still have that stun gun?”
Cooper’s eyes got a steely glint in them. “Aren’t you in enough trouble already, Parker?”
“You tell me, Cooper.”
We exchanged a series of glares until Aunt Zoe interrupted us by handing him a travel cup. “Coffee for the road, Coop.”
“Thanks, Zoe.” He stretched his back with a slight grimace, focusing on Natalie again. “So what are you up to this morning, Beals, besides trying to row Parker even farther up shit creek?”
She held up a keychain with the number “2” on it. Two keys dangled from it. “I’m moving in to my new digs for the winter.”
“New digs?” I blinked in surprise. We’d talked about this last week, but I hadn’t expected her to leap so fast. “Where?”
“The Galena House. One of the tenants recently moved out. Freesia is letting me stay there in exchange for playing handywoman.”
“Why does she need a handywoman?” Aunt Zoe asked.
“She thinks fixing up the place more will help to sell it quicker.”
As Freesia’s Realtor, I thought that was a brilliant plan. Plus, now my best friend would live only a hop, skip, and a jump away this winter instead of ten miles out of town on icy roads.
“You’re moving into the Galena House?” Cooper asked. Judging from the rigid expression lining his face, he wasn’t going to be bouncing for joy along with me.
“Yep, right above Ms. Wolff’s old apartment.” She shook her new keys at me. “You and Doc should come camp out. We can put our ears to the floor and listen for anything to go bump in the night.”
Chapter Five
Mona Hollister’s SUV was the only one of my coworkers’ vehicles parked behind Calamity Jane Realty when I rolled into the parking lot. I could smell her jasmine perfume as soon as I stepped inside the back door. Unwinding my scarf, I walked past Jerry’s open office door only to skid to a stop.
What in the … I backed up.
“Cornelius?” I called from the threshold to the man sprawled face up on the floor in front of Jerry’s desk. Thankfully, he was dressed in a black sweater and pants this morning, which were steps up from the raggedy robe and hairy legs I’d expected to greet me upon arrival.
When he didn’t respond, I moved inside the office and stood over him. His chest was rising and lowering under his sweater. “Cornelius?” I said again, nudging his leg.
Still nothing.
I squatted next to him, my knees popping in complaint. “Wake up,” I said, shaking his shoulder.
When that didn’t work, I touched the side of his neck with my cold fingers.
He jerked upright.
I yipped and fell back onto my butt, my brown suede boots flying up in the air. Good thing I was wearing leggings today under my long wool skirt or I’d have shown him one dandy of a view of London and France along with my damned underpants.
“What day is it?” he asked. His gaze drifted down over my leggings. “Are those cashmere?” His bony fingers reached toward my calf.
“Yes, but no touching.” I sat upright and knocked his hand away, pulling my skirt down over my legs. “It’s Sunday.”
“When did that happen?”
“Just after midnight last night.”
“In which time zone?”
There was no way I was starting my day by falling down one of Cornelius’s rabbit holes with him. “I’m done talking about this.”
His black eyebrows angled down toward his long nose. His cornflower blue eyes were extra bright this morning without the red lines or sagging lids I’d witnessed last month when he was being haunted by Wilda Hessler and he
r spooky-ass clown doll. “I’m sensing something here, Violet.”
What? Was it Jane’s ghost?
He held his hand palm-out in front of my sternum and then lifted it to my forehead. “Your third-eye chakra is blocked, obstructing your intuition and interfering with your ability to focus on the big picture.”
“It’s not blocked,” I told him. “I blindfolded it.”
“Why on earth would you cover your third eye?”
“Because what I’m seeing with the other two scares me plenty.” I glanced back toward the open door, making sure Mona wasn’t witnessing our odd discussion. “What were you doing on the floor?” I asked in a lowered voice to be safe.
“Call it some spiritual housecleaning.”
“Fine, but the next time you do some soul ironing while lying on the floor in a haunted office, close the dang door so nobody freaks out and calls 911.”
“Ah-ha!” He popped up onto his feet remarkably fast for a skinny stick insect. “You’ve seen it, too.”
“Seen what?” I frowned up at him.
“The apparition.”
“Shhhh.” I scrambled to my feet, not nearly as quickly or gracefully as he had, stepping on my long skirt and stumbling into Jerry’s desk.
“Are you afraid of the entity hearing you?” he asked.
“No, I don’t want my coworkers to know.”
“So, this is about your ability to communicate with the dead.”
“Gahhh!” I rushed over and closed the office door. What part of shush didn’t he understand? When the door was shut, I strode back to him, still keeping my voice low. “Nobody here at work knows about my side gig and I want to keep it that way, okay?”
He stroked his goatee. “To which side gig do you refer?”
“Which do you think, Cornelius?” I was no jack of all trades. Hell, I was barely a jack of one trade most days.
One black eyebrow inched upward. “My secretary?”
“I’m not your secretary.”
“Right. That’s a sexist term these days, isn’t it? Perhaps we should call you my assistant?”
I balled my fist, fantasizing adding a crooked bend to his nose. “Cornelius, I am not your assistant either. Or your right-hand woman.”