Optical Delusions in Deadwood (29 page)

      “Is that a warning?”

      “It’s a plea.”

      I fidgeted with one of my skirt buttons, considering his request. But money was money, and I needed more. “I’m sorry, Doc, but like I said, it’s just business. I have to go.”

      His mouth tightened, but he kept quiet.

      “I could stop by your office afterward.”

      He shook his head. “No need.”

     
Ouch.
Rejected. That stung. “Okay, then.” I shifted into reverse and backed out of the stall. The quicker I could get this damned Carhart house off of my plate, the happier I’d be. It was becoming a whale-sized albatross.

      I sneaked a glance at Doc as I prepared to pull out onto the road. “So, what happened to you back there?” Somehow, I managed to sound all light and bubbly in spite of the lead cannonball in my gut.

      “I blacked out.”

      “No shit. I was there, remember? I’m more interested in what made you faint.”

      “The visions.”

      I slid into traffic. “What did you see?”

      “I can’t tell you.”

      I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. “If this is because of my goddamned dinner with Douglas tonight—”

      “It’s not. Will you drop me off at the library?”

      “Drop you—Doc, this is your car.”

      “I’m aware of that.”

      “I’m not going to cruise around town without you in it.”

      “Why not?”

      “What if someone sees me?”

      “You could wave at them for starters.”

      “Cute. That’s not what I mean.”

      “What do you mean, then?”

      “Driving a guy’s car around means something.” Especially a car as sexy as Doc’s. “It’s like wearing his letter jacket or class ring.”

      “We’re not in high school, anymore.”

      “You know what I’m talking about.”

      He opened his eyes. “Spell it out for me.”

      A red light allowed me a chance to fully look at him. “If someone sees me driving your car, word could get out that we’re a couple.”

      His brow wrinkled. “And that’s a problem for you?”

      “Yes.” Between Addy’s starvation for a father figure, Layne’s rejection of all men in my life but Harvey, Natalie’s obsession with Doc being her
one
, and me still working as his Realtor, now was not the time to share our possible couple-dom with the world at large.

      We stared at each other in silence as cars rolled past.

      Someone honked behind me, jarring me back to the road. I made a left toward the library.

      I glanced at Doc. He was still frowning, only now out the windshield rather than at me. 

      The library parking lot had a big, hand-painted Library Patrons Only sign posted at the entrance. I parked with an empty stall cushioning each side of Doc’s Camaro.

      Leaning my forehead on the steering wheel, I sighed. “I’m sorry, Doc.”

      “Don’t be.” There was a definite arctic front moving in from his side of the car.

      “I really like you.”

      “Violet, stop.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Now is not the time for this.”

      “Fine. Why can’t you tell me about the visions?”

      “It’s complicated.”

      “Give it a shot.”

      “Not right now. I need to piece some things together first.”

      “God!” I grabbed his palm and slapped his keys into it. “I love how you always get to be the one who decides what we talk about and when.” I reached for the door handle.

      “Violet, it’s not—”

      I slammed the door on his words, started to walk away, then stormed back and leaned in the window. “You scared the hell out of me back there in that damned house when you passed out. I deserve a fucking explanation. When you feel like talking, pick up a phone. Until then, don’t.”

      If he called after me, I didn’t hear it, and I sure as hell wasn’t looking back. I may be gaga over the guy, but I still had a few pounds of pride in my body. To prove it, I shut off my cell phone so I wouldn’t be on pins and needles until he called.
If
he called.

      It took me three blocks to stop huffing, but I was still puffing ... and hungry. I grabbed a bag of beef jerky from the Lucky Horseshoe Casino’s gift shop and tore into it, ripping into the salty meat with zeal, jerky grease coating my fingers. Halfway through the bag, I had a flashback of that horrible tea party at Wolfgang’s and the jerky-like look of salt-dried human flesh, and I almost threw up on the sidewalk.    

      By the time I stomped into Calamity Jane’s, I’d dumped the jerky in the trash and wiped as much grease from my fingers as I could. Sweat ran in rivulets down my back.

      The sight of Jeff Wymonds sitting across from my desk made me falter. Mona and Ray’s chairs were empty.

      Jeff stood as I approached. “Hey, Violet, I stopped by to ...” He sniffed. “You smell good. Real good. Like beef jerky.”

      Excellent. Now I knew what to dab behind my ears if I ever went out on a date with Jeff.

      He frowned at me as I walked around my desk and fell into my chair. “Are you okay?”

      “No.” I grabbed a tissue and patted my cheeks, neck, and upper chest. He stared as if he’d paid a couple of quarters to watch me from the other side of a window. I was in no mood to be ogled. “What can I do for you, Jeff?”

      He blew out a breath. “Wow, that’s hot.”

      “Criminy, it’s just sweat.”

      “Yeah, but you make sweat look good.”

      Jesus! Scotty—somebody—beam me up, now! “Again, what can I do for you?”

      “I’m ready for you to do a final inspection.”

      “You repainted the living room?” The big grease spot on the wall, in particular.

      “Yep.”

      I heard a toilet flush in the back of the office. Ah, Ray was here, occupying his other throne.

      “The backyard is cleaned up?” Meaning there were no flat tires, snowmobile parts, or severed baby-doll heads lying around anywhere?

      “Yep. You want to come see it?”

      Not really. Not right now. Not after the macabre show at the Carharts. “Sure, but you’ll need to drive.”

      “You mean you want to go right now?”

      “Why not?” My day couldn’t get any worse.

      The sight of Jeff’s walls proved me wrong. Pepto-Bismol pink covered the living room grease spot and baby-poop green coated the kitchen walls. Jeff’s reply to my “For God’s sake, why?” had to do with money he saved buying pre-mixed goofs from the hardware store.

      On a high note, the backyard was ready for showing, with freshly mowed grass and flower boxes on the back and front porches. From the outside, the place no longer resembled the parking lot of a redneck AA meeting.

      Three hours later, we’d returned from the hardware store down in Rapid City with a couple gallons of off-white paint, fashionable drapes for the kitchen and living room, and a few new throw rugs to cover the worn spots in the linoleum.

      Exhausted from a day that started with sliced tires and went downhill from there, and with its finale yet to be determined, I asked Jeff to take me home. I wanted to crawl into my bed and hide under the covers for a couple of hours until it was time to summon bluebirds and fairies to prep me for the ball.

      My Bronco sat in the drive, no longer listing. I could have kissed Harvey—which would be easier than baking a pie.

      Jeff left his engine running. “Thanks for your help, Violet.”

      With his blond hair and big grin, he reminded me of a floppy-eared yellow lab. I resisted the urge to pat him on the head and instead took the hand he held out for me to shake. “You’re welcome. Finish that painting tonight and I’ll bring my sign tomorrow morning.”

      “I don’t know how to repay you for everything.”

      He was still holding my hand. I tugged a little; no give. “I’m just doing my job, Jeff.”

      His grip tightened. “I’m not talking about the house.”

     
Uh, oh.
My Miss Spidey senses started to prickle. “Are you referring to Kelly?”

      “No, I’m talking about me.” He yanked me forward and cupped my cheeks. “You’ve healed me.”

      Before I could do more than stare in stupor, he kissed me.

      His lips smashed mine, our teeth clattering. His tongue poked in my mouth like a jousting lance, thrusting into my back molars, aiming for my tonsils. I had to stop this before he rammed my uvula.

      His tongue retracted from my mouth enough for him to groan and utter, “God, you smell like beef jerky.”

      Still? I must have gotten some in my hair.

      He tried to pull me closer for another taste, but I resisted him, shoving against his chest. “Jeff, we have to stop.”

      “I know. We have an audience.”

      We did? I looked out the windshield and saw Addy’s nose pressed against Aunt Zoe’s front window. Her huge grin matched her wide eyes.

      “Oh, no. Addy.”

      “Addy?” Jeff sounded surprised. He pointed toward the Bronco. “I was talking about Old Man Harvey.”

      Harvey stood next to the back bumper, a tire iron in his hand, his two gold teeth gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. He waved.

      “Great. Just perfect.”

      “You’re a good kisser, Violet Parker.”

      Is that what he called that? Kissing? It felt more like oral surgery. “Yeah, thanks.”

      “Are you busy this weekend?”

      I needed to nip this right now. “Jeff, you know I don’t date my clients.” I only sleep with them.

      “Who says we have to date?” He winked. “We could just fool around on the couch.”

      “No.” I already had a fool-around buddy. I shoved open the door and hopped to the ground. “I’ll be by tomorrow morning with a sign.” And maybe a can of pepper spray.

      “Okay. But you’d better not put me off for too long, Violet Parker. I’m ready to sow some of my wild oats, and you are ripe for planting, but me and my plow can’t wait around forever.”

      It was so tempting when he put it that way. I slammed the door in his face.

      Harvey didn’t even wait for Jeff to make it out of the drive. “I usually have to pay to see that kind of action.”

      “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “Did he make it to second base? I couldn’t see below the dashboard.”

      I chose to take the high road. “Thanks for fixing my tires. What do I owe you?”

      “I told you, a pot roast and a strawberry pie.”

      “Right, sorry. It’s been a long day. I’ll repay you soon.”

      “How about tonight? Ms. Geary is having her poker girlfriends over for a late-night bender.”

      “I’m surprised you don’t want to be in the center of that.”

      “No, way. Those women will pump me full of Viagra and wear me down to a nub.”

      I winced.

      “Believe me, I’ve tried it.” He hooked his thumbs in his suspenders and grinned, all cock-of-the-walk proud. “Now, how about that meal?”

      “I can’t. I have a dinner date tonight.”

      Harvey’s bushy brows met his hairline. “You were just kissin’ Jeff. Now you’re meetin’ up with Doc? Wow! I need to start taking notes from you.”

      “I wasn’t kissing Jeff. He kissed me.” More like he tried to lick my esophagus.

      Harvey shrugged. “Confess it to a priest. Where are you and Doc eating?”

      “Chuckwagon Charlie’s. And I’m not meeting Doc.”

      “Well, I’ll be a blue-nosed gopher. This just keeps gettin’ juicier. Who, then?”

      I mumbled my answer.

      “Speak up, girl.”

      “Douglas Mann.”

      Harvey howled loud enough to send the neighbor’s Chihuahua into a barking frenzy. “You know, you should really write this shit down. I bet folks would pay good money to read about your crazy life. I sure would.”

      The screen door slammed and Addy came skipping down the drive toward us, a sucker sticking out of her mouth. “Mom, Doc just called.”

      “He did?” My heart picked itself up off the ground and dusted itself off. Why hadn’t he called my cell? Oh, yeah, I’d shut it off. Stupid pride. “Did he say what he wanted? Is he still on the phone?” Had he forgiven me for going all Medusa on him earlier when my blood sugar tanked?

      “Umm, no. He asked if he could talk to you, but I told him you were too busy kissing Kelly’s dad to come to the phone.”

      Fuck me!

     
Chapter Seventeen

      Doc wasn’t answering my phone calls. I tried three times, but didn’t leave a message. The probability that I’d open my mouth and insert both feet was too high.

      Now I’d managed to muck up things with both my best friend and my kinda-sorta lover-boyfriend. I should write a book called
How to Alienate Your Friends and Lovers in Record Time
. Maybe I could go on the talk show circuit and make an even bigger ass of myself.

      Rather than take the kids to Aunt Zoe’s gallery for a couple of hours while I met with Douglas Mann, I asked Harvey to watch them. He took pity on me, but only after wrangling a promise that I’d call Cooper first thing tomorrow morning and report the vandalism of my Bronco.

      Ms. Geary lured everyone but me over to her place with fresh-baked raspberry tarts while I got ready for my dinner meeting—I refused to call it a date, even to myself.

      When I crossed the street to kiss Addy and Layne goodbye, they both had raspberry goo on the corners of their mouths. Their hair smelled of fresh-baked pies, making me want to drool all over them.

      “Are you going out with Kelly’s dad?” Addy asked.

      I sighed. “For the third time, Adelynn, no. This is a business dinner.”

      “You said your dinner dates with Wolfgang were business, too. But they ended in kisses.”

      “That was one kiss, and it was on my cheek.” That part of my face still warmed at my naïveté when it came to Wolfgang’s charm. But he’d been easy on the eyes and I’d been out to pasture for too long.