Nearly Departed in Deadwood (18 page)

      “Mom?” Layne said.

      I blinked in surprise, expecting Addy. “Yes?”

      “We’re out of glue.”

      He said it as if glue was one of the staples of day-to-day life. “I just bought a bottle a couple of weeks ago.”

      “I used it all on my cardboard tank. I need more.”

      “You’re not sniffing it are you?” Dear God, I didn’t have to deal with my kid trying to get high already, did I?

      “What? No!”

      “Good.”

      “Why? What happens when you sniff it?”

      “Your brain melts and leaks gray slime out your ears.” I was a firm believer in telling tall tales when necessary. A spiel of girl giggles interrupted our conversation.

      “Layne, is Kelly over there?” Addy failed to mention that when she called.

      “Uh, huh. Addy wants me to ask you if she can ride her bike over to Kelly’s house. Kelly needs clothes and a toothbrush.”

      Warning alarms whooped. “Tell both girls to stay put. I’ll go get Kelly’s stuff.”

      It was a good opportunity to spy on Jeff Wymonds while under legitimate cover. I glanced down at the Post-It note on my desk. Maybe I’d drag Harvey along for protection.

      “Okay. Bye, Mom.” The phone went quiet.

      Closing my cell, I blew out a long breath and stared at the daisies in front of me. They smiled back, clueless to the lack of sleep they’d be causing tonight. At least I wouldn’t have to lie awake worrying about Addy snoring under Jeff Wymonds’ roof.

      After a few mental “I-think-I-can” push-ups, I stuffed my phone in my purse, moved the daisies over next to their droopy cousins on the filing cabinet, and tossed Harvey’s Post-It in the trash on my way out the front door. I left the lights on and changed the “Open” sign to “Back in an hour.” Ray would probably return from lunch before then. It wouldn’t take long for the snake to swallow a rat or two.

      Doc’s door was unlocked. I pushed inside and found the front room empty. A hint of Doc’s woodsy smelling cologne wafted around me. “Hello?”

      Floorboards creaked from somewhere in back. Footfalls followed. Doc stepped into the room. “Hello, Violet.”

      The sight of his bare legs gave my tongue amnesia. I was used to seeing Doc in a T-shirt and jeans. In his green tank top, tan cargo shorts, and naked feet, he looked fresh off the beach. All we needed was some sand, a surfboard, and a hemp necklace, and I’d be California dreamin’ again.

      Doc’s gaze journeyed down to my sandals and back up to my mouth. “Nice lipstick. It matches your toes.”

      “Oh.” I swallowed the urge to lick my lips. “Thanks.”

      He sat on the edge of his desk, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “What can I do for you?”

      “I’m looking for a friend.”

      He winked at me, his grin flirting. “I’m your Huckleberry.”

      My stomach fluttered like a chicken coup in a fox raid. “You’re my what?”

      “Huckleberry.”

      “The sweet or the tart kind?”

      “Which do you prefer?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

      I pretended not to notice his biceps and triceps. “The sweet.”

      “Ah, the lady loves sugar.”

      “It’s my drug of choice.” Why did my white, scoop-neck sundress now feel as warm as a fur-lined parka? Had the air conditioner died?

      “I’ll make a note of that.”

      “Are we still talking about huckleberries?”

      His grin was now cockeyed. “Oh, no.”

      Doc was doing it again, running circles around me, tying me up in knots, lighting little fires around my feet. Just like he had at the library. “I didn’t think so. What was my original question?”

      “You said you were looking for a friend.”

      “That’s right.” However, my body was apparently looking for something more, and it was holding its own gigolo auditions whether my brain was on the judging panel or not. I really needed to have sex soon. Or devour several gallons of peanut butter fudge ice cream. Or sell a house. Something orgasmic.

      The faint sound of a toilet flushing came from the back area. Harvey walked out, drying his hands on his jeans. “Whew! Almost waited too long.”

      I looked from Doc to Harvey. “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

      “We do now,” Doc answered.

      Harvey patted Doc on the shoulder as he shuffled by him. “Doc is going to fix me up good, aren’t ya?”

      “As long as you follow my advice.”

      As usual when in Doc’s presence, I was scratching my head. I opened my mouth to pry about what it was he did for a living, but Harvey cut me off.

      “So who’s your stalker?”

      “Stalker?” I blurted. Harvey’s question left my brain stumbling in the dark for a second or two until I remembered the poem that came with the daisies. “Oh, you mean from last night.”

      “What happened last night?” Doc asked.

      Harvey beat me off the line. “Some peeping Tom was spying on her and her loverboy while they were dancing. He wrote her a little poem about how purty she looked in her red dress.”

     
Wolfgang isn’t my “loverboy,” thank you very much, Harvey
. Hell, I hadn’t even made it to first base with him.

      Doc’s brows raised. “How was your big date?”

      Discussing the sad state of my romantic affairs in front of Doc made me squirm. It was like inspecting my underwear for holes in the company of a stranger—a dark, attractive stranger with great legs.

      “It was okay.” I tried to play it down for some reason that I wasn’t sure I wanted to explore.

      “Just okay?”

      “She didn’t get any action.”

      “Harvey!”

      He snorted. “What? You didn’t. Not really.” He grinned at Doc. “Her boyfriend is a bit light in his cowboy boots, if you know what I mean.”

      “He’s not my boyfriend.” That label required a lot more tongue action first.

      “Fine. Your client with benefits.”

      Doc’s gaze narrowed. “You went on a date with a client?”

      “Sort of.” My cheeks warmed, damn it. “Let’s just drop this, okay. The flowers are no big deal.”

      “Bullshit,” Harvey expressed his disbelief with his typical eloquence.

      “It’s probably just from one of those guys who saw the singles ad that Addy placed for me in last week’s paper.”

      Harvey grunted. “Sounds like you need a bodyguard.”

      “No, it’s nothing.” I hoped.

      “Did your boyfriend send you the flowers?” Doc asked.

      “He’s not my boyfriend,” I reiterated, stressing that with an unyielding stare. “And no, he didn’t.”

      Doc held my gaze. “Then it doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’ to me. Harvey’s right. You could use a bodyguard.”

      “I’ll volunteer,” Harvey said. “Hell, I don’t have nothin’ else to do these days but watch the clover grow in the fields.”

      I knew the crazy, old buzzard well enough already to know a losing battle before I picked it. Besides, I wanted him along for the visit to Jeff Wymonds. Now I wouldn’t sound like a coward in front of Doc. “Okay, Harvey. You’re it.” I hoisted my purse higher on my shoulder. “I need to go pick up some clothes for Addy’s friend, Kelly. She’s spending the night. Want to come along and watch my back?”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Harvey waved at Doc on his way to the door. “See you on Tuesday, Doc.”

      I followed Harvey.

      “Violet,” Doc’s voice stopped me on the threshold.

      I turned back. “Yes?”

      “Is Kelly’s dad the same guy we saw at the gas station the other day?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      His forehead furrowed. “Be careful.”

      “I will.”

      “Don’t let Harvey leave your side.”

      He must have been reading my mind. I nodded. “See you tomorrow at one.” I backed out the door, holding his stare, wondering if he knew something about Jeff Wymonds that I didn’t.

      The trip to Kelly’s house was filled with Harvey’s ideas on different ways he could guard me, from spending the night on Aunt Zoe’s front porch, camping in his pickup across the street every night, to sleeping with Aunt Zoe’s spinster-turned-sex-kitten neighbor, Miss Geary, while he kept an eye on me.

      By the time I parked my Bronco in front of the Wymonds’ house, Harvey’s plan had grown elaborate enough to include hand signals and bird calls. I’d had to nix the idea of me wearing a wire—mainly because Harvey’s version required me being plugged into an outlet at all times.

      Jeff’s front yard still looked like the parking lot of a Rednecks Anonymous meeting. His screen door had been torn from its hinges since my last visit and now lay on the grass next to the porch. The front door was open several inches, the sound of a baseball game spilling onto the lawn. With Harvey on my heels, I knocked on the door hard enough for my knuckles to sting.

      Several seconds passed, my breath held, and then I heard the faint slaps of footfalls on linoleum. A frizzy-haired, platinum blonde poked her head around the door. The bags under her eyes added a decade to her face.

      “Who are you?” Her eyes seemed more suspicious than wary as she glanced back and forth between Harvey and me.

      I smiled big and bright. “Hi. I’m Addy’s mom. Kelly was supposed to have called for permission to spend the night at my house tonight.”

      At least, I’d assumed the girls had gotten permission from one of Kelly’s parents. I peeked over the blonde’s frizz, searching for a glimpse of Jeff.

      “Oh, yeah.” The blonde opened the door wide, her suspicious glint mellowing into an apologetic frown. “Sorry. You caught me off-guard.”

      “I would have called first,” I lied, “but I didn’t have your number.” Calling ahead would have foiled my surprise plan.

      “That’s okay.” She held out her hand. “My name is Donna.”

      “Violet Parker.” Her handshake felt as firm as a watery Jello. I indicated toward Harvey. “And this is—”

      “Sylvester Schwarzenegger,” Harvey finished for me.

      I choked on my spit, coughing into my hand, blinking away my tears. “Sorry about that. Swallowed wrong.”

      Donna smiled at Harvey. “You look really familiar. Are you related to the movie star?”

      Harvey nodded. “We’re third cousins on his father’s side.”

      A strangled giggle escaped from my throat before I could corral it. “Uh, Donna. You have a very nice daughter. She’s been great for Addy.”

      Donna’s smile faded around the edges. “Thanks. I’m glad she’s been behaving for you. Can you give me just a moment while I grab Kelly’s bag?”

      “Sure. No problem.”

      Donna disappeared, leaving the door open in her wake.

      I hit Harvey in the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

      He grunted from the blow. “If I’m your bodyguard, I have to be undercover.”

      “I thought you said everyone knows everybody else around these parts.”

      “By name, yes; but I haven’t seen Donna since I grew out my beard.”

      Shaking my head, I leaned in the doorway, hungry for a glimpse of Jeff and Donna Wymonds’ home. The front door opened into a small foyer, half-walls topped with skinny posts on the right and left divided it from the dining room and kitchen.

      The house smelled of cigarette smoke and beer. A burst of applause came through an arched opening in the dining room.

      Harvey stepped past me into the house. I grabbed his arm and pulled him back outside. “Where are you going?” I whispered.

      “To check out the place. Aren’t you curious if the inside is as messy as the outside?”

      Actually, I had darker curiosities. “Of course.”

      “Come on, then.” He pulled me inside.

      “Harvey, stop it.”

      Donna walked through the arch in the dining room. She stopped at the sight of us.

      “Can I use your restroom?” I threw out the first thing I could think of, guilt frying my cheeks over an open flame.

      “She has a weak bladder,” Harvey explained.

      I shot him a glare for his help.

      “Oh, sure.” Donna pointed toward the kitchen. “There’s a small bathroom in the utility room, past the pantry.”

      “Why don’t you wait outside for me,” I told Harvey. I didn’t want him snooping around—with or without me.

      “Fine.” Harvey growled low in his throat. “But make it quick. It’s hot out there.”

      “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Schwarzenegger?” Donna followed me into the kitchen.

      “A beer would be great.”

      Donna’s laugh had a sharp edge. “You sound like my husband.”

      I turned down a short hall just off the kitchen, rushed past a washer and a half-opened dryer, and shut myself in a small bathroom. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hear a thing going on in the other room between Harvey and Donna, which made my nervous perspiration turn into a full-on anxious sweat.

      Where was Jeff? Where was Kelly’s baby brother? And why hadn’t Donna cleaned the toilet in the last year?

      I hovered in the opposite corner of the corroded toilet and counted to twenty, then flushed with my shoe. Turning the doorknob through a protecting layer of dress, I tiptoed back into the laundry room.

      As I walked by the half-opened dryer door, I froze on my toes. A suitcase sat on top of the Maytag, its top unzipped and half-filled with pastel-colored clothes. I crept over to it, taking a closer peek. They weren’t little-girl clothes, as I’d initially thought. Donna was going somewhere, and in a hurry based on the way she’d just tossed in her clothes instead of folding them.

      Did Jeff know? Maybe Kelly would.

      I stepped back and glanced down at the trash can next to the dryer. The back of my neck prickled at the sight of a bouquet of mixed flowers crammed in with lint wads and dryer sheets. Red roses, yellow carnations, and white daisies stared up at me. A little purple envelope lay crinkled on top of one of the daisies. I reached into the can.

      “What are you doing?”

      I jumped at the sound of Donna’s voice behind me. With my body drumming, fright and flight pushing and shoving inside me, I whirled around. “Sorry. I saw the flowers and ...” flight won and my mind flew off with any good excuses. “Sorry.”