Optical Delusions in Deadwood (42 page)

      All right, I’d bite. “What did she say?”

      “To be careful around the deep mine.”

      “What deep mine?”

      “She didn’t say.”

      Prudence the enigmatic ghost could have tried to be less cryptic. The hills were littered with mines. “Wanda, how long have you known Prudence?”

      “She started showing up after my husband died.”

      “You mean after Lila killed him.” Whatever Douglas and Lila had been up to, Mr. Carhart must have gotten in their way.

      “Lila didn’t kill my father,” Millie said in a tear-filled voice from her seat on the kitchen floor. “She was a good girl. She never hurt anyone.”

      Millie needed to have her head beamed back down to Earth. I had throbbing ribs and fingers that more than proved Millie wrong.

      “So Douglas killed him?” But why? Knowing Douglas, I figured it had to have something to do with money.

      “No.” Millie’s voice sounded as lifeless as her girlfriend. “I did it.”

      My jaw hit the floor next to Douglas. “Why?”

      “He deserved it. The things Father did to me were wrong.” She glared at her mother. “And you never stopped him. Not once.”

      Before I could wrap my head around Millie’s accusation, footfalls pounded on the front porch.

      “Wanda, put that gun down,” I whispered, fearing they’d shoot her without asking.

      “Open up! It’s the police!” Cooper yelled through the door.

      The cavalry had arrived.

     
Chapter Twenty-Four

     
Monday, August 13
^th

      The Deadwood Police Station smelled like bacon—no joking. Bacon with a hint of maple. I found it an ironic touch as I approached the front desk and met the toothy grin of the gray-haired officer sitting behind it.

      “Detective Cooper is waiting for me,” I told his bulbous, Rudolph-like nose, avoiding his eyes.

      My stomach growled clear to my toes. It was pissed because I hadn’t fed it much over the last couple of days. It wasn’t by choice. Every time I thought of food, cooking utensils such as bread knives and rolling pins covered with blood came to mind, followed by Lila’s pale skin and matted hair.

      “It’s nice to see you all cleaned up and shiny again after the other night at the Carhart’s,” the desk officer said, picking up the phone.

      Shiny? Did he mean my nose? I’d covered it twice with makeup, along with all the bruises, before Natalie had dropped me off in front of the station.

      He punched a button on his phone, his grin now cockeyed. “When Cooper carried you out of the house, you looked a little rough around the edges.”

      A little? I was lucky I’d only had to take on Lila and not Millie. Douglas hadn’t been so fortunate. His wounds had won him a ride out of there in the first ambulance on the scene.

      “Cooper wasn’t carrying me.” I tapped the desk with my index finger. “I want it on record that I walked out of that mess.”

      “Walked?” His furrowed brow called
Bullshit!

      “Okay, stumbled and leaned, but my feet were firmly grounded.” My head? That was another story.

      The desk officer smirked. “She’s here,” he said into the receiver.

      My appointment with Cooper wasn’t for another five minutes, so I walked over to the line of empty vinyl padded chairs propping up a wall covered with bulletin boards. Official announcements, charity fliers, and Wanted posters caked the corkboard. Air whooshed out of a chair’s seat as I knelt on it to check them out.

      “Well, well. Look what the cat left on our welcome mat,” Cooper said before I was even three felons deep. He leaned on the corner of the front desk, all men’s-magazine suave and relaxed in his jeans and button-up shirt. Except for his steely eyes. They never rested.

      “Your shirt is buttoned wrong,” I said.

      “Your eyebrows are crooked,” he replied.

      I’d had trouble drawing them on with trembling hands, but he didn’t need to know that. “You demanded my presence this morning.”

      “I didn’t think you’d heed a mere request.”

      He was right.

      I’d relived the whole Carhart debacle enough over the last two days while I mulled and vented, crying and swearing. Forty-eight hours of rest and recovery down on the prairie at my parents’ place with the kids and Natalie had smoothed some of my ruffled feathers. However, now it was time to return to reality—and realty. Addy needed glasses. Layne needed shoes. And I needed a new vehicle.

      “Want some coffee?” Cooper asked.

      “I’ve already had a pot.”

      “A pot?” His eyes narrowed for a split second, then he nodded. “Okay, then, let’s do this.” He led the way down the long hall.

      I followed Cooper into his office and stopped at the sight of Fire Captain Reid lounging in the chair behind Cooper’s desk. Reid’s dark blue eyes sparkled, welcoming.

      “Morning, Sparky,” Reid said.

      I shot him a small grin. “You’ve been talking to Harvey.”

      “More like he’s been talking to me. He has a lot to say, especially when it comes to you.”

      I could only imagine. The old coot had left six messages on my cell phone in the last two days, each one longer and more detailed, full of juicy gossip regarding what folks around town were saying about me. My ghost-loving reputation had reached new levels of notoriety, it seemed. Woo-freaking-hoo. 

      Doc had Harvey beat by two messages, but his recordings had grown shorter with each call. He’d left the last one early this morning while I was watching Mom’s coffeemaker drip. It was short and sweet—and terse as hell:
Call me, damn it!
He might have been chewing gravel when he said it.

      Cooper sat on the corner of the desk and indicated that I should take the other chair.

      “See, Coop,” Reid said. “I told you Violet would bounce. She takes after her aunt.”

      Cooper frowned at me. “So long as she doesn’t land in another one of my cases.”

      “Maybe you two could partner up,” Reid’s grin stretched to his earlobes. “Like Watson and Holmes.”

      “I prefer Cagney and Lacey,” I said. “They dress prettier.”

      Reid’s deep chuckle smoothed the rough edges off my morning. “Coop can play the sensitive one.”

      Cooper’s lips flat-lined. “When you two ladies are done comparing your monthly cycles, let me know. I have some questions for Violet.”

      “I thought you said you had things to tell me. You didn’t mention that there’d be questions.”

      “I lied.”

      “A lying cop.” I crossed my arms. “That inspires confidence.”

      “I don’t mean to piss in your punchbowl, Violet, but my job is to catch the boogeyman, not hold your hand and tuck you in at night.”

      “You’ll have to excuse Coop,” Reid said. “His love is kind of scratchy.”

      I nodded. “Like a wool blanket. Got it. I’ll have to watch for him trying to pull it over my eyes again.”

      Cooper groaned, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Christ! I only lied because I thought debriefing you would be easier if you were more relaxed.”

      I smiled. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

      Reid laughed. “I believe you’ve met your match, Coop. It’s no wonder your uncle has glued himself to her side.”

      Cooper shot Reid a look. “I’m beginning to regret allowing you to join this discussion.”

      “I thought it was a debriefing.” I said. “You do realize that having a discussion means you have to give as well as take.”

      Cooper leaned forward, his eyelids squinty. “You have dark rings under your eyes and your right cheek keeps twitching. You sure you can handle what I have to give right now?”

      “I face off against maniacal killers for kicks.” I pushed back with a mother lode of false bravado. “Give me what you got.”

      “Douglas is awake and talking.”

      “You mean like able to talk in general, or spilling his guts?”

      “The latter,” Cooper said. “He’s hoping for a reduced sentence if he gives us a tell-all biography.”

      “You think that’ll happen?” Reid asked.

      “That’s not for me to decide.”

      I stretched my neck to the side, trying to loosen the tension that came with all the new nightmares over the last couple of nights. The Wolfgang Show now had competition for ratings. “So, what did Douglas have to say?”

      “He’s blaming Lila.”

      “Of course,” Reid said. “She’s dead. She can’t dispute what he says.”

      Doc and Wanda might beg to differ, I thought wryly, but I kept my mouth shut.

      Cooper picked up one of those grip-strengthening thingamajobbies from his desk. He squeezed it, making it creak. “Millie’s story has a different slant. She says Lila never hurt anyone.”

      I rolled my eyes. I’d heard that song and dance before.

      Cooper continued squeezing while he talked. “She claims Douglas is the puppeteer. All of this happened because of him.”

      “You realize Millie’s jealous, right?” I asked and didn’t wait for his answer to add, “Lila was having an affair.”

      Cooper nodded. “Lila and Millie? Yeah, you mentioned that when you were here last.”

      “No, I’m talking about Lila and Douglas.” When I saw the questioning squint in Cooper’s eyes, I added, “I saw them making out in the YMCA parking lot in Lead right before I went to the Carharts’ on Friday. Plus, Lila threw herself at his feet right in front of me when I was tied up.” I looked down at my hands. “Not to mention the whole Mudder Brothers incident during Junior’s funeral.”

      “What Mudder Brothers incident?” Reid asked.

      “Douglas groped Lila’s ass when she was in the receiving line at Junior’s funeral. George Mudder caught it on video.”

      Cooper’s lips thinned. “You’ve been busy, Miss Parker.”

      “I had a house to sell. It’s my duty to make sure no funny business is going on within its walls.”

      “You’re my Realtor, too. What have you been digging up about me?”

      I shrugged. “You like dogs and guns and Harleys.”

      Reid scoffed. “So does ninety-five percent of the male population in the hills.”

      Originality didn’t appear to be Cooper’s strong suit. I returned to a more exciting subject. “Millie told me she killed her father. She claimed abuse of some sort. Wanda witnessed her confession.” Now that I’d seen Millie all crazy-eyed with the rolling pin in her hand, I had no problem believing her capable of murder.

      “Wanda mentioned that,” Cooper said, the grips creaking as he squeezed again. “Millie didn’t deny it. Did she also tell you she killed her brother?”

      “Shit. Wow. No.” I sat back as that sank in. “She was just starting to air her dirty laundry when you interrupted us.”

      “Sorry, I thought you’d like to be rescued.”

      I already had been rescued by Wanda—three times—but I didn’t rub that in. “How did you know for certain that I was at the Carharts’?”

      “Wanda called 911.”

      “When?”

      “While you were fighting with Lila, according to Wanda. Her call was short and sweet, something about you being in trouble and to send the sheriff.”

      Make that four times that Wanda saved me. “So, did Millie say why she killed Junior?”

      “Not yet. I’ve had my own theory about her motive for the last few months, figuring it was something to do with money. Her and Wanda’s hiring you to sell the house supported that theory.”

      Last few months? “You suspected Millie all along?”

      Cooper nodded. “Her or Wanda.”

      “Why not Lila?” I asked.

      “She didn’t seem like the type who’d be willing to get her hands bloody.”

      After almost being carved to pieces multiple times by the whack-job, I’d beg to differ. “Lila planned to sacrifice me to raise some demon.”

      “Millie mentioned that when I asked about the pentagram and black cape. Apparently, Lila was deep into demonology and had a history of being involved with a group over by Yankton. They believe some old myths about the Black Hills being a door between dimensions. They’ve been under investigation multiple times for mutilating animals and performing sacrificial rituals. You would have been their first human sacrifice that we know of.”

      “Lucky me.” So, Lila’s creepy book was legitimate, at least in that circle. I wondered if Cooper heard about the book from Millie, if he’d ask me about its whereabouts, and whether I’d tell him the truth. I decided to change the subject before I had to face that dilemma. “So, if Lila was into demonology, what drew her to the Carharts? Was Junior involved with the same cult?”

      “Millie said Junior had nothing to do with the cult shit.”

      “Then why him?” I asked.

      “Neither Douglas nor Millie had answers for me on that one. All we know is that Junior hooked up with Lila at a bar in Lead. They were engaged a few weeks later. Two months after that, Millie killed her father and then her brother.”

      “There’s a disconnect there. What aren’t you telling me?”

      He touched his nose, then pointed at me. “You made the connection for me when you were in here after your Bronco burned up, but I didn’t realize it until they hauled you away in an ambulance Saturday. Lila seduced Millie, then convinced her to kill her father and Junior.”

      I knew Lila’s hands were dirty with this somehow. “Why?”

      “Location, location—something you real estate agents know all about. According to Millie, Lila firmly believed that some mega-powerful demon resides in the earth directly under the Carharts’ house.”

      Goosebumps leapfrogged up my arms. Whether I bought the demon story or not, that was just plain disturbing.

      “Lila needed Junior and his dad out of the way so she could perform her ritual. Millie said Lila had tried to get Junior to join in her beliefs, but he wouldn’t take her seriously, so she’d turned to someone who did—Millie. Looking at the timelines, it appears she was already hooked up with Douglas by this point.”