Better Off Dead in Deadwood (10 page)

“Be out in a second, Violet,” Doc’s voice came from the hallway leading to the back room, a place I knew well from our past escapades. If I hadn’t seen that picture with the bloody hook, I’d join him back there and see if he could give me a private pep rally before Jerry told me everything that I had done wrong today.

I dropped into the chair opposite his desk and leaned back, pulling the bobby pins from my hair that Jerry had insisted I use to corral my curls so I’d blend better into Cooper’s surroundings. I hadn’t bothered explaining to Jerry that Cooper and I were like oil and vinegar—our molecules didn’t mix well together because one of us was positively charged and the other was pissed off and always wanting to be on top.

“I can’t stay long,” I hollered back to Doc, shaking out my hair and then closing my tired eyes for a few seconds of much-wanted rest. “But I need to tell you what I found at Cooper’s house today. You’re not going to believe it.”

Silence came from the back room. Then I heard footfalls.

Eyes still closed, I felt the air shift over me. My chair’s wood arms creaked and then the whole thing scooted backwards a little with me in it. I imagined Doc leaning over me and pursed my lips, waiting for him to touch me like he usually did when we were alone.

Then I caught a whiff of cologne—sharp, zesty, not Doc’s usual. I opened my eyes.

Detective Cooper’s face was six inches from mine, every crease furrowed into one big squint. “What did you find at my house, Ms. Parker?”

Shit!

I gulped, my face flash-frying. “Smoke alarms,” I whispered.

Movement over Cooper’s shoulder caught my attention. Doc stood in the hallway, his face lined with a cringe.

“Smoke alarms?” Cooper said, trying to stare the truth out of me.

I nodded. “A lot of them. You must buy your weapons and alarms in bulk.”

He pushed away from the chair, standing upright, but continued to stare down at me with his arms crossed. “Why do you smell like smoke?”

“Your uncle had a little accident.”

His jaw clenched. “Do I still have a house?”

I nodded. “Reid was there to help.”

“What was the chief of Deadwood’s fire department doing at a false alarm in Lead?”

“Trying to find out if my Aunt Zoe was on a real date last night.”

He seemed to swallow that without a second thought. “Was anyone hurt?”

I shook my head.

“How much burned?”

“Twelve cookies. They were a total loss. And a hot pad.”

“Where was my uncle when this was happening?”

I hesitated. “Preoccupied.”

“With what?”

“More like ‘whom.’ He was showing your bedroom closet to one of his old flames.” Jerry had run to the store for more bottled water, leaving Harvey alone in the house with the wanna-be Brigitte Bardot in her black pleather top.

“My closet?”

“With the door locked.”

He grunted.

“Why do you have a deadbolt on the inside of your closet door?”

“None of your business.”

“Other than that little incident, the open house was a success.”

Unfortunately, most of the visitors were Cooper’s neighbors—the female variety—who’d come to see what the inside of his house looked like. Come to find out, he was a bit of a hermit in the neighborhood. No surprise there.

Several of the Cooper groupies wore tight or low-cut shirts and pouted when they found out he wasn’t there to show them around. Reid sufficed for many of the ladies my age and older, his charm winning him several phone numbers in the end. I wondered if he was going to give up on Aunt Zoe and settle for one of the open house hotties.

“Any takers?” Cooper asked.

“Not outright, but we’ll see what happens over the next couple of days.”

“Do I need to hire some cleaners to get the smoke smell out of my place?”

“No, it’s mostly gone. I have your kitchen curtains in the Picklemobile. I’ll wash them and bring them by tomorrow.”

“Just leave them at the station.”

If Cooper was trying to keep me out of his house because of the corkboard in the basement, it was too late.

I looked over at Doc, still watching us from the hall.

He raised a brow.

I grimaced back.

So much for unloading on him about that bloody hook. Judging from Cooper’s reaction to my big mouth, I was going to have to sit on this insight until later when I could get Doc alone.

“Well.” I stood up and collected my bobby pins from Doc’s desk. “I should be going.”

I tried to step around Cooper and he blocked my exit.

“Let me get this straight. You came rushing in here to tell Doc about my smoke alarms? That’s it?”

No.
“Yes.” I felt my nose twitch. Yikes! My tell. I covered my nose.

“What’s wrong with your nose?”

“It’s itching. I think I’m going to sneeze.”

Doc appeared next to us with a tissue, his eyes practically twinkling with mirth. He knew all about my tell.

I shot him a warning glare as I blew my nose, faking a couple of exaggerated blinks.

“Maybe you should go take care of that in the bathroom,” he suggested, clearing a path for me, saving the day.

Still hiding behind the tissue, I scurried down the hall into his bathroom. I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, shaking my head at the hornets’ nest I’d jammed my hand into out there.

I waited, staring at the curly blonde-haired monster in the mirror with dark smudges under her red-lined eyes. Add some streaks in my hair and I’d make a good Bride of Frankenstein.

How was I going to get out of this without having to suffer another interrogation in Cooper’s office?

Or lose his trust as his real estate agent?

“Way to go, bonehead,” I told Mrs. Frankenstein.

She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Very mature,” I said and opened the bathroom door.

To my right, the back door beckoned. I tiptoed toward it. My hand was on the door handle when I heard a scuff on the floor behind me.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I called out and rushed out into the sunshine, yanking the door closed behind me.

I didn’t waste time celebrating my escape in case Cooper was thinking about following me out and chomping on me some more.

I jogged over to Calamity Jane’s back door and slipped inside the shadow-filled hall, locking the door behind me for good measure.
Who turned off the lights?
I wondered, heading down the hall toward my desk. Jane’s door opened as I passed in front of it.

I looked over and up, expecting to see Jerry’s huge frame.

Someone much shorter blasted out, slamming into me. My arms flailed as I stumbled forward, almost falling, until a hand caught and steadied me.

“Thanks,” I said, looking around to see who’d tried to run me down.

A female zombie with milky white eyes and grayish-colored skin stared back. Torn flesh hung from her left cheek, black rings circled her eyes, and blood streaked down her chin and neck.

Without further ado, I screamed my head off.

Chapter Six

“Violet!” The zombie grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me back against the wall. “Stop! It’s me. It’s Mona.”

The sound of my coworker’s voice coming from the blood-stained lips cut through my nightmare-come-to-life panic. I stood there panting, staring at the zombie, wondering if I’d starved my brain of so much sleep that it was turning normal people into the walking dead. Like some kind of zombie vision now stuck in place.

“Mona?” I whispered, blinking, trying to see her high cheekbones, porcelain skin, and full lips under the flaps of skin and crusted wounds. She smelled rubbery, synthetic compared to her usual cozy jasmine scent.

“Is she okay?” Jerry asked zombie-Mona, coming up behind her.

“
She
doesn’t know,” I answered for my coworker and tried to laugh, only it sounded like someone stepped on a cat’s tail.

I wanted to ask if he thought Mona looked a little rough around the edges this afternoon, but I was afraid to find out that it was only me. There’d be no coming back from something as serious as walking and talking hallucinations, not without a mad scientist and a few well-placed bolts of lightning.

I heard the front door slam open.

“Violet?” Doc shouted.

“She’s back here,” zombie-Mona said.

“I heard her scream,” he said, rushing toward me.

Jerry stepped back, making room for Doc.

I glanced back and forth between Doc and zombie-Mona. He looked normal, no freaky eyes or apparent cravings for brains.

“You okay?” Doc asked me, his face creased with concern.

“I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Cooper asked from where the hall emptied into the front office.

“I think I scared her,” Mona said.

Cooper scoffed. “You think? Have you seen yourself lately?”

My focus whipped to the detective. “You mean you can see her …?” I gestured toward her face.

“Her zombie makeup?” he asked. “Of course. It’s not that dark back here.”

Makeup? “Could somebody please turn on the light,” I asked.

The overhead fluorescent flickered on, lighting up Mona’s face. Up close under the bright bulbs, I could see the streaks in her makeup, a portion of the flap of skin where the glue had loosened, the edge of her milky white contacts.

“Oh, God,” I said, leaning my head back against the wall, feeling like such a huge freaking idiot. “I thought …” I clamped my jaws shut before I spilled too much.

Only Doc knew the truth about my vivid nightmares involving demons and albinos. I couldn’t risk telling my boss or Cooper or Mona that I’d thought this was another lifelike nightmare similar to the one I’d had where my psychotic ex-client had melted right in front of my eyes. Coughing up that little nugget would make me sound like an escapee from the loony bin, and I doubted Jerry allowed nut-jobs on his team.

“You should sit down,” Doc said and led me down the hall to my desk chair, his palms warm on my chilled skin.

Cooper stepped aside to allow us to pass.

To hide my trembling hands, I gripped the arm rests. Mona followed us out into the front room, Jerry didn’t.

Doc went down on one knee in front of me, his eyes searching mine. “You good?”

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He sniffed twice and squinted at the far wall for a couple of seconds, his olive skin paling. “I have to go.”

According to Doc, the Calamity Jane Realty office was haunted, and the entity wasn’t the fun-loving kind of ghost that floated around joking with everyone like in Disney movies. Doc’s visits to my office were usually short and often took place from the threshold, where he could make a quick escape, if needed, rather than deal with the side effects of interacting with the wispy remains of the past.

As much as I wanted to burrow into his chest and wait for the tremors to pass, I straightened my shoulders. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

He opened his mouth like he had more to say, then shook his head and rose to his feet. His focus shifted to Cooper. “Ready?”

Cooper nodded, sending a smirk in my direction. “Unless Ms. Parker wants to press charges against the zombie for assault and battery.”

I flipped him off, uncaring of our audience. He was lucky I didn’t throw my stapler at his back as he walked away chuckling.

After the door shut behind Doc and Cooper, I lowered my forehead to my desk.

“I’m sorry, Violet,” Mona said next to me. She squeezed my shoulder. “I was planning to take off my makeup as soon as I got here, but Jerry called me into his office first thing.”

Lifting my head, I looked her up and down, noticing for the first time that she was only a zombie from the neck up. Her yellow T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and tennis shoes had no rips, tears, or blood.

“You’re the second zombie I’ve seen today,” I told her. “There was a zombie at the grocery store earlier.”

She smiled, her teeth bright white in the midst of the dried blood framing her mouth and trailing down her chin. “We’re in a play at the opera house. Today was the start of dress rehearsals.”

“Up in Lead?”

She nodded.

Lead had a century-old opera house with a history full of gilded grandeur, world class entertainment, and famous visitors. It was also rumored to be haunted, like so many other buildings in the area. I had yet to walk inside the six-story building, but I’d peeked in the lobby doors recently after dropping off some of Layne’s books at the library next door.

“I didn’t know you were an actress,” I said as Jerry joined us again.

“Mona and Jane have both dabbled in community theatre over the years.” Jerry handed me a bottle of water left over from Cooper’s open house. “Here, your throat must need some rewetting after that scream.”

“Thanks.” My cheeks warmed at his reminder of my banshee-like behavior. I uncapped the bottle and took a swig, wishing it were a glass bottle with the word TEQUILA printed on it.

“Jane was the actress,” Mona said. “She just talked me into joining her on occasion.” She looked down at her hands, her blood-encircled mouth curving down at the corners. “This time I wasn’t planning to be involved in the production, but then Jane …” Mona cleared her throat. “The producer called a few days ago. I’m just filling in for her now.”

Jerry put his hand on Mona’s shoulder, which she shook off, flashing him a scowl.

I thought I felt a ripple of tension pass between them, but then it was gone, making me wonder how long they’d known each other and how well.

Jerry cleared a spot on Ray’s desk and dropped onto it, his long legs stretching to the floor.

“When does the play start?” I asked Mona.

“The first of October. It runs twice a week for a month—a matinee on Saturdays and an evening show on Sundays.”

“The play is a month away and you’re already having dress rehearsals?” That showed how much I knew about community theatre.

“Peter Tarragon, the director, would’ve given Napoleon a run for his money on the tyranny scale. He insists this performance must go off without a flaw, including the makeup and costumes, and has fired cast and crew members on the spot for disobeying his orders.”