Better Off Dead in Deadwood (30 page)

The other two were from Doc, who’d called me on Aunt Zoe’s home phone last night when he couldn’t get through on my cell. He’d wanted to know when we could finish what we’d started earlier in my bedroom, and then he gave me the play-by-play of exactly how he’d “finish” me. My libido sat and whined, but between Harvey’s snores from the couch and the kids taking turns needing one more drink of water and then one more trip to the bathroom before they could fall asleep, reality lulled all of my passion-filled hopes back to sleep for the night.

Reality sucked.

If only my life took place in the pages of a romance novel. Then Doc and I would get days to frolic in bed, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies. Instead, I spent my nights with two kids, a chicken, or a crusty old man. Not to mention the demons, ghosts, ghouls, and creepy clowns who tore through my dreams. Stephen King should write my tell-all biography.

I pulled into the parking lot at Bighorn Billy’s and parked the Picklemobile in the back of the lot next to a couple of other ancient metal pickups. A Bluetick hound dog sat in the driver’s seat of an old blue beast with white and chrome trim. It barked at me when the Picklemobile backfired.

I glared through the closed window at its bared teeth. “Don’t judge.”

Dodging fat raindrops falling from the cloud-filled sky, I rushed through the three-quarter-full parking lot toward the restaurant’s front door for what I feared might be my last meeting while still on Calamity Jane’s payroll.

In my race through the rain, I hadn’t seen Jerry’s Hummer anywhere, but I was a few minutes early. I lucked out and landed a booth where it would be easier to hide under the table when the shit hit the fan. Coffee was all I ordered. I doubted I’d be able to choke down any food this morning since my stomach felt like it had a pair of pissed-off badgers tussling inside of it.

The waitress had just poured my coffee when Ray sauntered in, followed by Mona. What were they doing here? My face blazed. Was Jerry going to rake me over the coals in front of an audience of my peers?

Mona saw me and grabbed Ray’s arm, pulling him along behind her. She slid onto the booth seat next to me.

Ray scowled down at her. “This booth isn’t going to work, Red. Jerry’s legs are too long. You two will be all tangled up under there.”

Mona opened the menu. “We’ll make do. Sit.”

I was too mortified to do anything more than sip my coffee, all the while imagining the various Shakespearean tragedies that might play out shortly for the Bighorn Billy’s crowd. I’d left my vial of poison at home, so I’d have to settle for suicide by fork during the climax.

Ray settled in across the table, kicking me on purpose and then offering a smirk-filled apology. I was busy loathing him with my eyes when Mona said, “Knock it off you two. Jerry’s here.”

I dragged my gaze off the orange-faced orangutan in time to see Jerry grab a menu from the hostess podium on his way over. He slid into the booth. His shoulders filled half of the bench seat, bumping into Ray, but he didn’t complain.

He greeted each of us in turn, his eyes lingering on Mona before landing on me. I tried to read his expression for impending doom on the horizon, but all I got was a clear gaze and a smile. A Magic 8 Ball would have given me more of a clue on the surety of my future in Deadwood real estate.

After the waitress stopped by and took our orders, Jerry clasped his big hands together on the table in front of him. “Mona told me that Jane liked to have regular meetings here to catch up on what each of you are doing, discuss any problems you may have run into, and deliver group announcements.” His focus shifted back to Mona. “Since you’re sort of the team captain, Mona, why don’t you start?”

Mona waited until the waitress had finished pouring coffee and then proceeded to fill us in on the status of her contracted properties in an even-keeled, matter-of-fact tone. When I grew up, I wanted to be like Mona, sexy bombshell sweaters, silky scarves, and all.

Ray was up next, his report topped with a good dollop of gloating and superiority about the bidding war going on over his most recent contract—a ranch northwest of town with six hundred and forty acres that spread through a couple of valleys dotted with multiple fresh water springs.

Having to check in after Ray always felt like being the follow up band to the Rolling Stones. His swansong included a big, fake smile and an announcement that it was his goal to bring in the first sale for our new boss.

What a freaking kiss-ass. I “accidentally” buried the toe of my pointy shoe into his shin while crossing my legs under the table.

He grunted.

“Sorry,” I said and sipped some black coffee. Its bitterness paled next to the acidity in Ray’s gaze.

His eyelids tightened into little slits. “Violet has some exciting news to share, don’t you, Blondie?”

That was the first time he’d used my nickname in front of Jerry, who cast a frown at Ray before focusing on me.

I lowered my coffee cup, not liking the way Ray was practically licking his chops. I had plenty of exciting news involving ghosts, zombie brides, and albinos, but I had a feeling Ray was getting his sneer on about something else—probably my getting thrown into jail. Hell, I was surprised he hadn’t dropped flyers from the sky to spread his joy about the whole mess.

“That depends on what you think is exciting, Ray,” I said.

“She’s agreed to try to sell the Carhart house again,” he told the table while staring me down.

How did he …? Oh, shit. I’d left the contract on the printer, totally forgetting about it after I’d dropped my phone in the toilet yesterday and scampered home all defeated and ready to raise my white flag.

“Oh, Vi,” Mona said, mixing her words with a sigh.

Ray’s face was alight like Christmas had come early and Santa’s elves had been replaced with tassel-clad pole dancers.

“What’s the story on this Carhart house?” Jerry asked.

“It’s the scene of multiple cold-blooded murders,” Ray said. “Including one involving our very own Violet ‘Spooky’ Parker.”

I kicked his shin again. The faceful of animosity he returned reminded me of the Bluetick hound from the parking lot.

“Is this true?” Jerry asked Mona.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Mona said. “Except the part about Violet being involved. She was more of an observer. Lila Beaumont died by tripping and falling on her own knife according to the police report. She just happened to be chasing after Violet at the time of her demise.”

Jerry’s eyebrows slammed into his hairline. “You’re gonna sell a house you were almost killed in?”

“It’s a beautiful house,” I said, still standing firmly by my opinion of the place even after all that had happened within its walls.

The waitress brought our food, silencing any response the other three had, giving me a moment to corral my rattled thoughts. I hadn’t expected Ray to attack on that front. I’d planned to tell Mona on the side, and then Jerry, and let Ray pounce on it after it was old news.

After we were alone again, Jerry leaned his elbows on the table. “Based on what these two are telling me, Violet, that sounds like a pretty ballsy move.”

“Ballsy?” Ray snickered. “I’d say it’s more stu—”

“That’s enough, Ray,” Mona said in a tight tone, casting an imploring glare at Jerry.

“She’s right, Ray,” Jerry said. “Why don’t you drop back and play defense for a bit.” He took a bite of his toast, eating half of it in one chomp. “Violet, what’s your plan for unloading this place as soon as possible?”

I had a chicken I wouldn’t mind sacrificing to the realty gods, a gerbil, too. I nibbled on the dry toast I ended up ordering while considering my answer. “Make a few phone calls to previously interested parties,” like the Brittons, who’d loved the old place, ghosts and all. “I thought I’d also put some ads out in a few markets where the murders weren’t front page news.”

“What about an open house?” Jerry asked.

“No way,” Mona beat me to the punch. “The whole town of Lead would show up just to tour the scene of the crime. It would be like opening a freak show attraction at a carnival.”

“Freak show, hmmm.” Jerry eyed me while chewing. “That gives me an idea.”

An idea involving me that was inspired by the words
freak show
? I cringed, pretty damned sure his idea wasn’t going to include me baking homemade cookies for potential buyers. “What?”

“Just hear me out on this.”

He said that as if I had a choice, apparently forgetting who signed my paychecks.

“We could have two versions of our ads—one with you in the pink suit with pink lipstick and soft hair, looking all sweet and angelic; and then the other ad with you wearing a black dress and dark kohl around your eyes, looking sexy and dangerous.”

“I’m not sure that will sell houses,” I said, still cringing, choosing my words with care. It might sell shotgun shells and deer piss to hunters over at the hardware store, maybe even a box of condoms or two at Piggly Wiggly for any nearsighted, lonely fellas, but not real estate.

“We’re not trying to sell houses with these ads, Violet,” Jerry explained. “We’re trying to sell you, which in turn sells houses and makes Calamity Jane Realty more money.”

“I don’t like it,” Mona said. “It seems desperate and borderline tacky, not to mention you’d be toying with Violet’s professional reputation.”

Amen, sister!
I squeezed Mona’s leg in thanks.

“I disagree, Mona.” Ray took Jerry’s side, of course, because his head was so far up the boss man’s ass. “We could even use Violet’s nickname on the ads.”

“Pipe down, rub-a-dub,” I said to the rat bastard. “You’re trying way too hard now.”

“The idea is worth considering,” Jerry said, seeming to forget that I had to go along with the whole wacky concept for it to leave the drawing board. “If anything, it’s a good way to experiment with our target audience and see if the folks around here prefer the bad girl or good girl look. From the results, we can build our next marketing campaign.”

Mona dropped her fork on her plate with a clatter, her eyes spitting sparks across the table. “Really, Jerry? When will it be Ray’s turn then to wear the black eyeliner, tight clothes, and padded jock?”

I did a double take at her. She must have seen Ray’s penis, too.

Mona continued, “Or is this going to be a way to exploit only the females under your employ?” Mona asked.

Instead of taking offense at her stab, Jerry’s grin took a flirting bend as his gaze traveled over her pinched features. “I haven’t seen you this ticked off in a long time, Mona. Not since …”

Mona scooped up her fork and pointed it at Jerry’s face. “Don’t even go there.”

Go where? I wondered. What the hell had gone on between these two in the past?

“I’m serious, Jerry,” Mona continued. “You need to step back for a moment and take off your marketing hat, because it seems to be blocking your view of what’s right and wrong.”

“Actually,” Jerry said, “I was also thinking of putting some ads out showing the newest member of our little family.”

My lower gut cramped in a pseudo labor pain. “We have a new family member?”

Jerry’s smile was supposed to be reassuring, I assumed. Instead, it filled me with dread. “Yes. Benjamin Underhill has accepted my offer to join us as another associate broker.”

Great, Ben would have the same title as me. That would make it easier for him to step into my shoes when I got fired.

“He’ll start next week,” Jerry continued. “So, if any of you would like to air any grievances about my hiring another employee, say your piece now, because after breakfast I don’t want to hear any whining.”

Across the table, Ray was one big gloating head. “I think you’ve made a smart choice. Ben’s a good kid. I’m sure he’ll succeed where others fail.” Ray looked at me.

Really? Was that the best he could throw at me?

“I’m looking forward to teaching him everything I know,” he added.

“Well, that should cover his first hour of training,” I said with a smile of my own.

Mona laughed and then covered it with her napkin.

I joked, but there was a challenge in that statement that made me scrape off some tooth enamel. Mona had been my mentor from the start. She’d guided me and protected me along the way. Now Ray had his own puppy to train, and I had no doubt he was going to do his best to have Ben jumping through rings and spinning this way and that for treats every chance he got.

I glanced at Mona. She fiddled with her spoon, two rivulets between her perfectly arched eyebrows. “Benjamin seems like a nice guy,” she said. “But do you think it’s wise to hire someone related to Ray?”

Ray growled but kept his big mouth shut.

“You have an issue with nepotism?” Jerry asked.

“I have an issue with encouraging competition between coworkers. We are supposed to be one team all working together for the good of Calamity Jane Realty.”

Jerry rubbed his jaw, watching her fingers on the spoon. “What makes you think we won’t be on the same team anymore?”

She looked at Ray. “A gut feeling.”

She’d caught on to Ray’s challenge, too. No surprise there. Mona had become one of the all-time top sellers in the Black Hills by watching over her shoulder as she climbed.