Rattling the Heat in Deadwood

by Ann Charles

  “Good idea.”

  He opened the door, turning to me once more with an angry glare. “You’d better find an ace attorney, Parker.”

  “Okay, snollyguster.”

  His barks echoed down the hallway.

  Cooper slammed the door shut behind him. “What the fuck, Parker?”

  I pointed at the cameras in two corners of the room.

  He walked over to each, clicking them off. “Okay, now talk.”

  “Ya sure you don’t want her to bark for treats like yer partner?” Harvey wheezed in laughter.

  I tried to keep a straight face for Cooper’s sake, but the memory of Hawke’s rabid expression each time he barked made me burst out laughing.

  It took a minute for the two of us to sober up. Cooper stood, arms crossed, waiting for us without even a hint of a smile. Apparently, this was the T-800 Terminator robot version of Detective Cooper, not the human one I’d watched The Rifleman with on the couch last night.

  When I could speak again without giggling, I wiped the tears from my eyes and told Cooper and Harvey about Prudence using that word to describe Hawke. How she’d told me to use it when I needed a distraction.

  “She must have planted that nugget in his melon while she was rattlin’ around in there,” Harvey said, his tone awed. He shot me a frown. “Did she plant anything in mine?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “I doubt there’s much fertile land left inside your dried-up old brain,” Cooper muttered.

  “Yeah, well this ol’ dried-up brain kicked yer ass at poker last night, boy, and don’t ya forget it.”

  “Hell.” Cooper plowed his fingers through his hair, leaving shark fins. “This nightmare just keeps getting worse.”

  Sort of like my nightly adventures.

  “So,” Cooper said, rubbing his jaw. “It appears that Prudence was able to plant a trigger word in Hawke’s head as well as share her dying moment with him.”

  “Yep.” I rested my forearms on the table, wondering if I’d ever be as talented as she was in this demon-killing business, even after her death. “She doesn’t like lawmen.”

  “I’m picking up on that.”

  “And she was particularly disgusted with Detective Hawke and his infatuation with himself.”

  Cooper looked at me with a no-shit smirk. “I’m sure you weren’t much help talking him up.”

  I shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter what I said. Prudence has a low opinion of pretty much everyone, including me.” Especially when it came to my inability to do my job well in her eyes. “So, now what do we do?”

  “About what?” Cooper asked.

  “Do you have to stay handcuffed to my side day and night? If so, sleeping on the couch is going to get old.”

  “You joke, but Hawke wanted to put an ankle bracelet on you and keep you under house arrest this morning.”

  “That boy’s rudder is broken clean off,” Harvey said. “Did you see how much he’s twitchin’? Yer really rattlin’ the heat now, girlie.”

  “It feels more like I’m ‘battling’ than ‘rattling’ the cops most of the time,” I grumbled.

  Cooper guffawed. “That’s rich, Parker, coming from you. By the way, I have a message for Nyce that I need you to deliver.”

  “What?”

  “His idea of paying another visit to Ms. Wolff’s apartment is not going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “Detective Hawke has taken up residence in the Galena House.”

  “Since when?”

  “Last night. He’s camping on Ms. Wolff’s living room floor.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he has a gut feeling you’re going to break in and plant evidence that might keep your ass out of jail.”

  * * *

  I warned Natalie not to come over that evening, but she didn’t listen to me. Lucky for her, Cooper opted out of supper at Aunt Zoe’s in lieu of packing up more of his stuff. After making me pinkie swear to stay home all evening and not give him any more headaches at work, he enlisted Doc’s and Harvey’s help, offering beer and pizza in exchange for muscles and pickups. He’d recently rented a storage unit to use until I found him a house.

  I’d told Doc that I hoped I could find Cooper’s dream home soon, because I wasn’t sure the warden would let me sell real estate from prison. I laughed at my own joke. Doc didn’t. The news that I’d delivered for Cooper about Ms. Wolff’s apartment being occupied nightly hadn’t gone over well, although Harvey’s reenactment of Hawke’s barking had smoothed the wrinkles from Doc’s brow for a few minutes.

  After a supper of Aunt Zoe’s homemade butternut squash soup, grilled chicken breasts, and store-bought dinner rolls that Natalie picked up from the Piggly Wiggly on her way over, Natalie and I parked on the couch with the kids. They found a holiday special and we all snuggled together under the big quilt while visions of flying reindeer and unhappy toys filled the television.

  Aunt Zoe had returned to her workshop after supper, finishing up an order for special ornaments for what she described as a winter wonderland-style wedding. The romantic in me imagined something akin to the red sparkly dresses and white faux-fur muffs from White Christmas.

  Natalie grinned when I described it to her during a long set of commercials. “Let me guess, the bride and groom are singing ‘Walking in a Winter Wonderland’ as they ride off in a horse-drawn sleigh into the starry night.”

  “Wouldn’t that be pretty?” I said, playing happy-ever-after in my mind with a certain dark-haired man, minus the singing part since I couldn’t stay on key to save my life.

  “You’d freeze your butt off and end up with pneumonia,” Ms. Practical said.

  “We could snuggle under a blanket.”

  “Yeah,” Addy chimed in. “Like we are now.” She burrowed into my side. “I’d ride in the sleigh with you, Mom.”

  I smiled and kissed the top of her head. That was sweet, but she wasn’t part of this daydream, except for throwing rice at us as we rode away.

  “The horses might poop on you,” Layne added, sharing Natalie’s outlook.

  I frowned at him and then over his head at Natalie’s smiling face. “You two are both pooping on my parade.”

  Addy reached over and tugged on Layne’s ear. “Yeah, quit being such a mean boogerhead.”

  He slapped her arm away. “You’re the boogerhead, brat.”

  “That’s enough,” I said, giving them the look. When they both settled down again, I leaned back into the couch cushions. I started up the winter wonderland fantasy again, moving on to a warm, white-sandy beach under the moonlight with a certain hot body leaning over me.

  “I wonder,” Addy started, and then hesitated, her little forehead pinched.

  “You wonder what?” Natalie asked.

  Addy glanced at me from under her lashes. “I wonder if Mom will ever get married.”

  “Why would she do that?” Layne asked.

  “Because she’s in love with Doc and that’s what you do when you’re in love, right, Natalie?”

  A shadow passed over Natalie’s features. “Not always, kiddo.”

  “Mom doesn’t love Doc,” Layne said, frowning at me. “You don’t, do you?”

  Before I could answer one way or another, Addy said, “She does, too. Why else would she let him come over for supper every night?”

  “Cooper and Harvey come to supper all of the time,” Layne said, a sneer pinching his face. “Does she love them, too?”

  “Well,” I started, but Natalie’s laugh stopped me.

  “Trust your aunt Nat, you two. Your mom is not in love with Detective Cooper.” She lowered her voice and added, “She thinks he has mean cooties.”

  “His cooties are nice!” Addy told me, defending Cooper to me.

  “But not as nice as Doc’s,” Natalie wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Right?”

  “Everything about Doc is nice,” I agreed.

  “See,” Addy told Layne. “She loves him. Now they’l
l get married and have babies.”

  I did a double take. “Say what now?” The thought of pregnancy made me feel like paying a visit to the porcelain goddess.

  “They are not going to get married,” Layne insisted. “Besides, Doc said he wouldn’t marry her, remember?”

  Whether Addy remembered or not, I sure as hell did.

  “That’s not what Doc said, you dork,” Addy spat.

  “I’m not a dork.” Layne pulled his punch, giving me time to block it and keep them from an all-out brawl.

  “Layne, what have I told you about hitting your sister?”

  “But she keeps calling me names.”

  “Addy, enough with the name-calling. Treat your brother with love and kindness. ‘Tis the freaking season for it, for Santa’s sake.”

  “Fine, but Layne’s wrong.”

  Natalie and I exchanged curious glances. “How is he wrong, Addy-bug?” Natalie asked.

  “That’s not exactly what Doc said.”

  I was all ears at that moment. Even my heart was eavesdropping from behind my uvula.

  “What did he say?” Natalie pressed.

  “He said that he wouldn’t marry a woman unless her kids wanted him to marry their mom.”

  Oh!

  Well.

  Really?

  Wait.

  Did that mean he’d be willing to get married someday? That he wasn’t allergic to wedding bells? That if I ever was brave enough to broach the subject of tying the knot he wouldn’t run for the hills and never look back?

  I looked down at my hands, wishing both were wrapped around shots of tequila right about now.

  “Which means,” Layne said in a pissy tone, “that he isn’t going to marry Mom because we don’t want her to marry him, remember?”

  “We don’t?” I asked.

  “No.” Layne looked up at me, his face set. “We’re okay with you having a boyfriend, though.”

  It didn’t take a sledgehammer to pound his feelings on the subject into my head. Doc was okay to have around for now, but not permanently. Got it.

  “I don’t know,” Addy said.

  “You don’t know about what?” Natalie asked.

  “About Doc.”

  “What don’t you know about Doc?” I asked.

  “Well, I really like him, but …”

  “But what?” If she said she liked Jeff Wymonds better, that was too freaking bad. There was no way in hell her mother was going to marry Jeff just so she could have her best friend as her sister.

  “But what if he doesn’t really like kids?”

  “Why wouldn’t he like kids?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Because we fight a lot.” She looked up at me. “What if he gets tired of us and wants to send us away?”

  My heart panged at the worry filling her eyes. I pulled her close, kissing her head. “You’re not going anywhere, baby. Remember, you promised to stay with me until I’m old, and I’m going to hold you to that.” I looked up to find Layne watching us. “You, too, young man. I need you both forever. Nobody will ever EVER convince me to send you two away from me, understand?”

  He nodded.

  “Yes, Momma,” Addy said, smiling up at me. “I really do like Doc a lot, though.”

  I messed her hair. “Me, too.”

  “I told him—”

  “Shhhh,” Layne cut her off. “The show’s back on.”

  I wanted to hear what she’d told Doc, but apparently the conversation about my future as a married woman was over. Both kids’ focus locked onto the television screen again.

  Natalie looked at me over their heads, reaching along the back of the couch to squeeze my hand and offer a smile and wink.

  I smiled and squeezed back, glad to have her tonight for company.

  Later, after we put the kids to bed, I told her how the phone tracking conversation with Cooper had gone, including him knowing “someone” had messed with my phone. I suggested she head out before he came home and drilled us both with those steely eyes in between chewing on us with his serrated teeth.

  She agreed, sliding on her coat. After a glance up the stairs she waved me to follow her outside on the front porch. “I have something to tell you and we don’t need little ears listening in.”

  I grabbed Aunt Zoe’s padded red vest again. My pea coat was in the laundry room, needing three new buttons sewed on—damned Elvis! I zipped the vest up to my neck and closed the front door behind me. Jack Frost had already gone to work sparkling up the place. The Christmas lights in the window added a happy glow to the dark night. The air smelled like wood smoke, making me want to hurry back into the warm house.

  “What is it?” I jammed my hands in the vest pockets, wishing I’d thought to grab some gloves, too. “You want to weigh in on me getting married?”

  She shook her head. “But if you don’t choose me as your maid of honor, I’ll shave your head the night before the ceremony.”

  I chuckled. “Deal. What’s up?”

  “Last night around two in the morning, I heard something again.”

  Galena House ghosts? Then I remembered Cooper’s news. “I told you that Detective Hawke is staying down below you, remember?”

  “It wasn’t Hawke.”

  Her tone left no doubt about it. “What did you hear?”

  “Music.”

  “What sort of music?”

  “Old country stuff. Golden oldies like Hank Williams Sr. and Patsy Cline.”

  “Maybe it was Freesia or the other resident who lives there.” I couldn’t remember the old lady’s name, but she made one helluva tasty sugar cookie.

  “I figured you’d say that,” Natalie said, “so I snuck out into the hall and went to each of their apartments, listening at the door.” She looked toward the street for a moment before turning back to me. “It wasn’t coming from the other apartments.”

  “You sure you weren’t hearing it through the vents?”

  “Positive.” She leaned closer. “It was coming from the attic.”

  “How did you figure that out?”

  “I went up there.”

  “Really? You’re braver than me.”

  “That’s not news, chickenshit.” She dodged my jab, chuckling. “Come to find out Freesia has some antique furniture up there under sheets. Back in the corner there is one of those big old-fashioned radios with the dials and a light-up little window. It reminded me of the one my grandma had. Do you remember it? She kept it in her dining room.”

  “Yeah, she told me how her whole family would sit in front of it with popcorn and listen to weekly radio programs before they could afford one of those newfangled televisions.”

  “Exactly. It looked sort of like hers, only the glass over the dial wasn’t fogged.”

  “So, you think someone went up in the attic and turned it on in the middle of the night?”

  She frowned. “It was unplugged.”

  “No way.”

  “Yes way.”

  “Are you sure there weren’t batteries inside?”

  “Violet, I’m not an idiot. I checked the thing out. It’s totally old school, batteries NOT included.”

  “So, it was playing golden oldies on its own?”

  She nodded. “And here’s the freaky part. I tried turning the dials, but the station stayed the same and the volume didn’t change.”

  “What the hell?”

  “But when I turned to leave, it clicked off.”

  Goosebumps peppered my skin. “Was it still lit up?”

  “Nope. The whole thing went dark and silent, like it hadn’t been cranking out tunes seconds before. I tried to turn it back on, even plugged it in, but it was dark and dead.”

  “Are you sure you hadn’t imagined it?”

  “I’m positive. There’s only one explanation for it.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. “It’s a haunted radio.”

  That sounded so corny, but I believed her. “Did you see anything unnatural before or after
the radio went quiet?”

  “No.”

  “Did you smell anything funny? Like rose water perfume or old shaving cream?” I remembered reading about paranormal investigators picking up on scents like those before their ghost meters went crazy.

  “Nope, no weird smells, no moving sheets, no sounds.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Spooky, too.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I got the hell out of there, raced back down to my apartment, and locked the door behind me.”

  “If it was a ghost, would a locked door matter?”

  “Shush.” She shuffled her feet. “The whole thing sort of reminded me of Poltergeist, you know?”

  “But that was a television that turned on and off.”

  “I know that, but it was close enough.” She shuddered. “It took me a while to fall asleep.”

  “I don’t know that I could have.”

  “I kept the lights on in my place all night.” She snorted. “I haven’t done that since I was a kid.”

  “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

  “Where? On the couch again? No thanks. Those springs get more pokey by the day, I swear.”

  “Addy and I could squeeze you into my bed.”

  “No, you’re having enough trouble sleeping as it is. Besides, I don’t feel like facing off with Cooper tonight. I need more sleep to handle him.”

  “You could stay at Doc’s,” I suggested. “Or with Harvey in Cooper’s house.”

  She shook her head, pulling her keys from her pocket. “I need to get back on the horse. If I don’t fight my fears, I’ll start wigging out at my own shadow.”

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, there’s always Aunt Zoe’s couch in her workshop.”

  “Thanks.”

  “For all you know, Nat, this might have been going on for years. Maybe old Jake Tender likes to listen to music in the middle of the night when he gets lonely. Next time, you should ask him for a dance.”

  “Maybe I will, smartass.”

  “Did you say anything to Freesia about it today?”

  “Yeah, first thing this morning when I woke up. It seemed to be news to her.”

  “Did she know whose old radio that is?”

  Natalie nodded. “She told me the furniture in that part of the attic all belonged to Ms. Wolff.”