Nearly Departed in Deadwood (20 page)

      “Addy?”

      Again, agitated dust specks swarmed as I peeked under the bed and inspected the closet, which was empty except for a family of dust bunnies.

      “Addy, I’m in no mood to play hide-and-seek right now.” My voice pierced the stillness of my purple surroundings. I rubbed the back of my neck, grimacing at the grittiness I found.

      I shut the door to the violet room. When I reached Wolfgang’s bedroom, the knob wouldn’t turn. I squeezed and twisted again, but the door was locked.

      “Open the damned door, Addy.”

      No more sweet talk, I’d had enough. I leaned my head against the hard wood, waiting for the click of the lock. Nothing happened. The light leaking out under the door remained steady, no shadows, no sounds, no sign of life.

      Maybe Wolfgang had locked the door before he headed for San Francisco. He could be using his room as storage for his mother’s valuables, figuring I might be bringing a cleaning crew through while he was gone. Smart thinking on his part, wishful dreaming on mine.

      That left the bathroom. The door’s hinges squeaked as I shoved it wide. I pushed on the old-fashioned style button for the overhead lights, wondering if Wolfgang would need to update the electrical panel before selling the place.

      No Addy in the bathroom, either. I walked over to the claw-foot tub and drew back the suspended shower curtain just to make sure. The tub bottom shined, squeaky clean to my touch. A faint bath water ring around the walls and a curled up spider by the drain were the only blights. 

      “Ewww.” I grimaced at the dead spider, and then looked into the mirror over the tidy sink. My curly spirals were escaping their bondage, sticking out all over like mini-antennas. Dirt streaked down from my temple and pooled in the creases of my neck. A big smudge covered the width of my forehead, a twin of the one on my forearm. “Double ewww.”

      The toilet gleamed at me, reminding me that I’d gulped down a bottle of water after mowing. I opened the lid, happy to see water in the bottom of the faded rust-ringed bowl. When in Rome, I thought and closed the door.

      I glanced around the spotless white and black tiled floor while in the midst of “Rome-ing” it, realizing that besides the kitchen, the bathroom was the cleanest room in the house. Wolfgang must have scrubbed down both rooms before my first visit. A small, opaque crystal resting on a black tile near one of the tub’s clawed feet caught my eye. Was that a rhinestone? Or a diamond? A jewel that had fallen out of Wolfgang’s pocket while cleaning?

      I stretched and grabbed it, noticing chips in the crystal upon closer inspection.

      A door groaned open in the outside hall.

      “Addy, freeze!” I shouted, pocketing the crystal, and then finishing up, flushing, and skipping the handwashing part in my rush to catch my kid in the act. I hauled open the door.

      The hallway was empty.

      Waning daylight peeked out from Wolfgang’s room. Addy had left the door open in her haste to escape. That little shit was going to lose her candy privileges for a month.

      I grabbed the knob, starting to pull it shut, but then curiosity got the best of me and I stepped into the room. The horses and groomsmen lining the hunter green walls chased after poor foxes without making sound. An old-fashioned skeleton key filled the keyhole below the inside doorknob.

      I tiptoed around the queen-size bed, careful not to disturb the dust smothering the embroidered duvet. What had Wolfgang been like as a little kid? A teenager? A young man? The smell of bay rum lingered under the varnish.

      A brass picture frame lay on the floor by the dresser. Frowning, I bent and picked it up, careful to avoid the broken bits of glass scattered around it. A black-and-white picture of a young woman with a long nose and blunt forehead stared back, her eyes steely, her lips thin, her hair dark.

      Was this Wolfgang’s mother? The woman Natalie and her school friends joked about being a witch? I could see a faint resemblance to Wolfgang in her cheekbones and jaw line.

      The sound of another door slamming in the hall jerked me out of my scrutiny.

      “Adelynn Renee!” I shouted and placed the picture on the dresser before stalking back out into the hall. “You’re in such big tr—”

      The sight of the other three doors standing wide open choked off the rest of my threat.

      Didn’t I hear a door shut?

      I walked toward the window at the end of the hall, opposite the bathroom, glancing in the other two bedrooms as I passed. Addy still eluded me.

      The window faced west, peering over the backyard. I stared out through the dirt-laden screen. Below me, Addy and Kelly ran circles around Natalie, who crutched her way toward the garage, where Layne kneeled, digging in the dirt. As I watched, Addy did a cartwheel, towel-wrapped hand and all, returning to her feet with a big grin for Kelly.

      Behind me, a door clicked shut.

      I whirled around, my arms tingling with goose bumps, my heart and lungs huddled together in my throat.

      The door to Wolfgang’s room had closed again.

      “Hello?” I whispered, cleared my throat, then tried more loudly. “Is anyone there?”

      Silence answered.

      I tiptoed over to the door, my breath held as I grabbed the doorknob.

      It wouldn’t turn. Locked, again.

      I stared down at the light spilling out from under the door, trying to come up with a rational, logical explanation for random door slamming in such an old house.

      The floor creaked on the other side of the wood panel.

      * * *

     
Sunday, July 15th

      Eighteen hours later, standing in a new, never-lived-in-before house in a growing suburb about seven miles outside of the Deadwood city limits, I was still chastising my overactive imagination.

      Doc waved his hand in front of my face. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

      I blinked away a tired blur, my eyes burning from a sleepless night full of tossing and turning, of witches and clowns. “Sorry. Did you ask me something?”

      “Yes, twice.” Doc leaned against the kitchen island that had a built-in gas range and granite counter top. His grin was lazy—as usual. “Late night?”

      “Long night,” I corrected, squeezing the bridge of my nose. The new-carpet smell filling my sinuses was not helping to soothe the dull pounding in my head, a lovely side effect of counting ghosts until the wee hours of the morning.

      I hadn’t shared my experience yesterday inside the Hessler house with Natalie or Aunt Zoe—partly because I didn’t know what to make of the whole thing, but mostly because of how red-faced I’d been later when I remembered my panic-stimulated, run-for-my-life reaction to the simple sound of a house settling in for the night. For a girl who didn’t believe in ghouls and banshees, my imagination had sure jumped on the haunted-house party-wagon without even pausing to lift its skirt.

      “Did you have another hot date?” Doc asked.

      I held his gaze for several seconds, searching for mockery, cynicism, even hoping for jealousy, but found only brown eyes staring back at me. I contemplated telling Doc my door-shutting story, sharing my creepy secret. No, that was too nutty-sounding. “No date. Just the usual insomnia fun.”

      “That explains the dark rings.”

      I nodded.

      “Red eyes.”

      I continued nodding.

      “Wild hair.”

      “Hey, cut me some slack.” I patted my hair. I knew I should have tucked it up again today.

      Chuckling, he pushed away from the island and tugged on a curl below my temple as he walked past. “Just kidding. You look beautiful, as always.”

      The woodsy scent of his cologne trailed behind him, rousing my hunger for more—just one tiny touch—as I followed him into the cathedral-ceilinged living room.

      I hesitated in the cushy shag carpet, still stewing on his
as always
comment. Something inside of me snapped. I crossed my arms over my chest. As far as I was concerned, we needed to keep things daisy-petal simple here. Either he liked me, or he liked me not.

      Not that I should even care about Doc’s likes, since Wolfgang was obviously interested in me. Unfortunately, I did care, at least my body did, in spite of the whole freaky sniffing thing Doc still did upon entering a house.

      What was wrong with me that one man wasn’t enough when no men had been just fine for the last two years? Maybe hanging out with Natalie so much since moving to town was beginning to affect my rusty libido. Maybe I was also into psycho sex now.

      “Listen, Doc,” I started, intending to clear the air between us once and for all. I was too tired today for any flirting games. “You and I need to talk about—”

      The front door opened, cutting me off.

      Pasting on a smile, I turned as a hippie-ish young couple stepped into the room. On their heels was the red-haired agent who’d shooed Harvey and me out of the open house yesterday. Jessica Rabbit’s furrowed forehead as she glared at me told me she hadn’t forgotten Harvey’s parting remark regarding the tightness of her bony ass, and her pinched lips confirmed that she’d heard my answering laugh.

      “Hello, again.” While her voice was super-sweet, her smile was sour.

      “Hi.” I indicated where Doc stood near the stairs. “I think we’re just about finished here.”

      As her gaze moved to Doc, her whole face flared bright pink right in front of my eyes.

      “We’re done now,” Doc said, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the open door.

      “What are you doing?” I asked as he tugged me into the hot sunlight. I fished my sunglasses from the neckline of my satin tank. “You didn’t even look at the master bathroom with the built-in sauna and soak tub.”

      “I don’t need to.” He still had my arm and was towing me down the sidewalk toward my Bronco at a full stride.

      “So, I take it that’s another ‘no’ today.”

      “Bingo.”

      “Wait!” A voice yelled from behind us as we reached the end of the walkway.

      Doc stopped so fast I ran into his back. Rubbing my nose, I turned around and watched the redhead stalk toward us.

      “Oh, shit,” I heard Doc mumble as she closed in.

      “You!” The redhead’s lips were pealed back in a snarl as she sliced Doc into tiny pieces with her razor-sharp glare.

      “Hi, Tiffany.” Doc said. “You’re looking well.”

     
Tiffany?

      “You rotten bastard!” Before I could even blink at her words, the redhead slapped Doc across the face.

      “Jesus!” Doc stepped back, holding his cheek. “What is wrong with you, woman?”

      “What’s wrong with me?” I swore her eyes were going to pop out of her skull. “You left without saying anything. You didn’t call. You wouldn’t return my calls. You even changed hotels.”

      I could have sworn I saw a hint of steam puffing out of her flared nostrils.

      “You’re overreacting.” Doc sounded relaxed, but his tense jaw gave him away.

      “You’re a selfish son of a bitch.”

     
Wow!
My mouth was gaping and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to shut it, not with my ringside seat at the Doc vs. the Crazy Redhead Championship Fight.

      “Tiffany, calm down.”

      She took another swing at him, but Doc dodged it this time, then captured her wrist in his grip.

      “You’re making an ass of yourself in front of your clients.” The icy fury in Doc’s gaze would have turned a regular mortal into a human Popsicle.

      I glanced back at the doorway. The young couple stood there, their mouths hanging open, too.

      “Fuck you!” Tiffany said. I could have sworn she followed it with a hiss.

      “Goodbye, Tiffany.”

      “I hope you die a horrible death.”

      “Nice to see you, too.” Doc let go of her wrist and grabbed my arm again. “We’re leaving, Violet.”

      I stumbled after him down the curb and across the street to my Bronco, my mouth still catching bugs.

      “Holy shit! I take it you two know each other,” I said when I finally found my voice again.

      “You could say that.” He opened the driver’s side door and pushed me inside.

      “Intimately by the sounds of it.” Not to mention the looks of it, judging by the fierce scowl that Tiffany was shooting in our direction from where she remained at the end of the walkway.

      “That depends on your definition of
intimate
.” He slammed my door shut and marched around to his side.

      I waited for him to climb in and shut the door. “Intimate as in you’ve seen each other in your birthday suits.”

      I didn’t know why I was digging for more details. Could be I was in shock. Could be I was a little jealous. Most likely, I just enjoyed seeing Doc squirm and sweat for once, instead of me.

      He stared out the front window. “Then the answer would be
yes
.”

      I started the Bronco, the mystery of his relationship with the redhead clearing as my shock faded and a blast of warm air from the vents hit my skin. “I’m not your first real estate agent in town, am I?”

      “Technically, yes. Her office is in Spearfish.”

      As we rolled through the housing development, I kept casting fleeting looks at him and his reddening cheek.

      “I thought sleeping with your Realtor was off-limits.” There, I said it. I couldn’t help it. Something inside of me wanted to rub his nose in that, sting him just a tiny bit for rejecting me from the start.

      He turned and caught my gaze. “It is.”

      I raised my brows as I stopped at the main highway junction, waiting for a long string of cars to pass before I could pull out and head back toward Deadwood.

      “Violet.”

      Eight cars to go.

      “Hmmm?” I glanced his way and my eyes got trapped by his.

      “You’re a much better agent than she was.”