Better Off Dead in Deadwood (5 page)

Cooper had shucked his suit jacket along with his tie since I’d seen him at the diner. His gray shirt looked like it had been tugged open at the neck, his hair a mixture of spikes and shark fins.

“Tell the detective what, Ms. Parker?” His voice was as stiff as his jaw.

I shrugged my purse strap higher up my shoulder and prepared to lock horns on the spot, but then I saw an underlying tiredness rimming his steely eyes. I hadn’t noticed that earlier at lunch.

“That I might want some coffee with my interrogation today, please,” I said, stepping past him through the doorway.

The air was a few degrees cooler inside the police department’s lair. A handful of uniformed men filled the smattering of desks. I’d only ever seen two women in the place, and one of them had been wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase.

“Hey, if it isn’t Rocky Parker,” one officer called out, his face split by a shit-eating grin.

That was new. A little better than “Spooky,” I guessed.

“Keep your eye on that one, Detective,” another cop said, “she’s a real knockout.”

I grimaced and glanced over at Cooper, noticing a tic in his cheek. I kept my lips squeezed together until we were inside of Cooper’s office with the door closed, opting to skip the coffee today. The temperature in the room was almost cold.

“What’s with the temperature flux in this place?”

He shrugged. “Every now and then our system gets confused.”

Cornelius would claim the jailbird ghost had a hand in it and pull out an EMF meter. Me, I just sighed and fell into the torn vinyl chair opposite Cooper’s desk.

“For future reference,” I said, “I’d rather lie wide awake through a tonsillectomy than walk through this place.”

“It’s your own fault,” Cooper said, rounding his desk.

“Getting harassed by
your
policemen pals is my fault?”

He sat down in his chair, leaning back with a creak. “I should have arrested you for police brutality.”

“Criminy, we’ve done this dance,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “I already said I’m sorry three times now for breaking your nose.”

“And for knocking me out.”

“And for knocking you out.”

“And for stealing my gun.”

“I didn’t steal; I borrowed.”

“And for giving me two black eyes.”

I pointed at him. “That was part of the package deal included in the nose apology.”

“And adding another murder to my caseload.”

“Hey, I didn’t kill George. Ask Ray.”

My coworker was the one living witness to that fact.

“My life would have been simpler if you had. And leave Ray Underhill out of this.” Cooper rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks to both of you, I’m out there looking for some magical albino who disappeared in a puff of smoke. Do you have any idea how that flies with the chief?”

“Like a cow with chicken wings,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Cooper’s stony expression hardened even more.

Feeling like I was back in the principal’s office after clocking little Jack Walker for peeking up my dress, I looked down at my fingers. They were all twisted together.

“And now I have another dead body on my plate.”

That brought my chin up. “I had nothing to do with Jane’s death.”

“I’m not so certain of that.” He stared at me for several silence heavy seconds. “Where were you Friday, August twenty-fourth?”

That was the day after the whole funeral parlor nightmare.

“In bed.” Hiding under the covers.

“All day?”

“A good portion of it.”

“Alone?”

I bristled at his question. Cop or not, that was too personal. “That’s none of your business.”

One eyebrow lifted. “Alone or not? Answer the question.”

I just sat there and glared back.

He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his desk. “Ms. Parker, I’m simply trying to see if you have an alibi for the estimated time of Jane’s death.”

Did Elvis, Addy’s chicken, count? “Alone.”

“Hmmm,” he said. That was it. I waited for more, but it didn’t come.

“What is that ‘hmmm’ supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Nothing, my ass. What’s on your mind, Detective? Spit it out.”

“In the newspaper a week ago, Jeff Wymonds stated that you and he were busy in his bedroom right before his garage exploded.”

Argh! I could whack Jeff upside the noggin for that comment, but he’d probably think it was some kind of mating game ploy of mine. Jeff had big plans. Brady Bunch style plans. The guy needed a maid, not a wife, and I wasn’t a good fit for either one.

“With as many suitors as you appear to have,” Cooper continued, “I’m surprised that you didn’t have company.”

It’s a good thing I didn’t have Cooper’s gun in my hand right then or I might have put a bullet in his toe. I had a feeling he was trying to rattle me, but after Jane’s funeral and meeting my new boss, everything had been shaken out already.

I set my chin. “That was a cheap shot.”

He pointed at his still swollen nose. “So was this.”

“No, that was several self-defense classes paying off.”

His eyes narrowed. “What kind of self-defense classes are you talking about? Karate? Jujitsu?”

“No, I’m talking about an off-duty police officer teaching a group of women what to do if someone sneaks up behind you and gets grabby.”

“I wasn’t sneaking.”

“You didn’t exactly call my name before tackling me.”

“I didn’t tackle you.”

I counted to five. “Did you demand that I come here today to argue the semantics of our little wrestling match last week—which I won, by the way—or was it to talk about Jane?”

He pushed away from his desk and moved around to the front, leaning against it while staring down at me. It was a pure power play on his part, but I let him have it since I was feeling like Jackie Chan Jr. after what I’d done to Cooper’s face.

“What were you doing Friday when you weren’t in bed, Ms. Parker?”

I shrugged. “Watching TV, hanging out with my kids after they got home from school, talking to my Aunt Zoe—I live with her.”

“I know.”

Of course he did. “Do you know how long I’ve lived there?”

“Since March.”

Ah ha! Last time we’d talked about when I’d moved to Deadwood, he’d been off by a couple of months. Someone had done his homework. Let’s see how much digging he’d been doing. “Where did I live before then?”

“Rapid City with your parents.”

“What’s my weight?”

“About twenty pounds heavier than you claim on your driver’s license.”

I sputtered.

“Are you done testing me?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

“Did you see anyone besides your Aunt Zoe, your daughter, Adelynn, or your son, Layne?”

Now he was just showing off. “Elvis.”

“Your daughter’s chicken doesn’t count.”

Figuring he’d probably already cornered Doc, I came clean. “My friend, Doc Nyce.”

“All night?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“Don’t play coy. I’ve caught you sneaking in his back door before, remember?”

“I wasn’t sneaking.” Okay, maybe a little that time, but only to see if his ex-girlfriend was in there with him. The jealousy bug had me all squirmy that day.

“Doc left around eleven,” I told him. “And if you don’t believe me, you can ask my neighbor Mr. Stinkleskine. He was out walking his dog when Doc left.” Which was the reason the goodbye kiss had remained PG-rated.

“Then what?”

“Then I went to bed. Alone. All night.”

He nodded. “Well, your story corroborates with Doc Nyce’s as far as the evening goes.”

“If you already knew all of this, why bust my balls about it?”

“Balls?” He glanced down at my black dress. “Testosterone would explain a lot about you.”

“Did that hurt?”

“What?”

“Cracking that joke. I wouldn’t think a hard ass like you could suffer that kind of structural tension without at least a wince or a grunt.”

“You have no idea how hard I can be, Ms. Parker.”

Harvey would have been guffawing all over that double entendre, slapping his thigh, hooting at the ceiling. I let it go without even a cheek twitch. “Why did you drag me in here this afternoon, Detective Cooper? Was there an actual purpose, or was it just to ask about my bedfellows and cry about your broken nose?”

His jaw shifted side to side like he was pulverizing granite between his molars. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“Not with you.”

He smiled all of a sudden—a real honest-to-goodness smile that curved clear up to his crows’ feet. The change almost hurt my eyes.

“I admire that about you, Violet,” he said, and then his smile disappeared and the storm clouds returned.

Was that a compliment? I almost fell out of my chair. What just happened? Had I crossed into another dimension?

“I asked you here to ascertain your whereabouts the evening Jane Grimes was murdered and if you had an alibi, which it appears you do.”

Blinking away my temporary smile blindness, I asked, “She was murdered Friday night?”

He gave a brief nod. “According to the coroner’s report.”

God, while I was sitting on the couch next to Doc watching John Wayne fall in love with a French whore in an Alaskan gold field, Jane was battling for her life.

“Was she killed down in the Open Cut?”

“That’s police business.”

“Was she shot or stabbed?” Or something worse?

“That’s also police business.”

“Have you talked to her ex-husband?” I thought of Jerry and added, “All three of them?”

“Again, police business.”

I really, really wanted to reach out and pinch Cooper in the leg right about then, and ask him if that was police business, too. But he’d probably arrest me for aggravated assault and force me to sit in the haunted jail cell while I waited for Doc to post bail.

“Fine.” I grabbed my purse and stood. “Since everything appears to be police business, I guess we’re done here.”

“We’re not done, Ms. Parker.” He took my purse from me and set it back on the floor, then pointed at the chair.

I took my sweet time sitting back down, smoothing my dress over my legs. “What else do you need, Detective?”

“Have you noticed any suspicious behavior between either of your coworkers and Jane over the last few weeks?”

Besides Ray having sex with Jane in her office a few days before her death? Actually, that wasn’t suspicious, just disgusting. I still cringed at the thought of his pants around his ankles. If only I hadn’t seen his man-junk while he’d lain naked on that autopsy table in Mudder Brothers basement.

“No,” I answered, still feeling the need to shield Jane’s reputation from censure for that one slip-up. Although, now that I knew Jane had been murdered, Ray was back under suspicion and I was going to play the “what if” game when Cooper didn’t have me under the microscope.

“Had Jane mentioned anything to you about someone following her or sending her threatening messages via email, a text, voicemail, anything?”

“Besides the jerk she was divorcing, no.”

“Did you actually see or hear any threats from him?”

“No, I just heard Jane’s complaints about him. Especially over the last few weeks.”

“Why the last few weeks?”

“I don’t know. Her divorce was getting pretty messy, I guess.”

“Did he ever come to the office?”

“Not while I was there.”

“Was Jane a heavy drinker?”

“No.” I thought of the liquor bottles in her office, the thick smell of alcohol in the air at the end. “Well, not until lately. Her divorce really had her depressed. I think she was still in love.”

Jane was one of the reasons my attraction to Doc had me chewing my thumbnails. Falling in love with him would mess me up and leave me sitting alone in a gutter somewhere, reeking of tequila, and having sex with some Neanderthal just because he said I looked “sorta pretty.”

“Is there anything you know about Jane that would help me to find whoever is responsible for her death?”

I sat on that for several heartbeats, giving it serious thought. I wished I’d made more effort to get to know her on a personal level, but she’d been my boss first, friend second. I’d respected the boundaries set at the start. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I will assume if you stumble across anything—as you so often tend to—that you will contact me immediately.”

“Of course,” I said, and I meant it. Whoever killed Jane ought to be brought to justice. She was good to me during a tough time, and I owed it to her to help Cooper find her murderer however I could.

“You’re going to keep your nose out of this case, right, Violet?”

His use of my first name didn’t go unnoticed. He’d shifted out of his hard-assed detective role, which meant he must be about finished chewing on me yet again.

“Yes.” I had an albino to worry about. I didn’t have time to figure out who killed Jane and why.

“You promise?”

“Do you want me to pinky swear with you?”

“It couldn’t hurt.”

Instead, I held up my left hand and placed my right over my heart. “I promise to let you solve the case, Detective Cooper.” I couldn’t resist throwing in, “for once.”

He shook his head. “I should have just arrested you the first time I met you.”

I stood, grabbing my purse again.

He walked toward the door. “What time are you coming over tomorrow?”

“You still want to have the open house then?” I’d already rescheduled it once due to Jane’s death.

He nodded, grabbing the doorknob.

“Then I’ll be there around one-thirty to set up.” The showing started at two.

“Great, I’ll let you in and then disappear awhile.”

“You’re not going to stay and help me bake some cookies? Wear an apron?”

“I’m leaving that to my uncle.” He opened the door.

Warm air walloped me in the face. “Harvey’s coming?”

“He told me you insisted he be there.”

The big, fat fibber. I hooked my purse over my shoulder. Oh, well, some company might be nice if it was slow. “He does make a mean molasses cookie.”

“Have you talked to Natalie Beals lately?”

Nat? That stopped me on the threshold. “No, why?”