Rattling the Heat in Deadwood Page 8

  “Of course you’re not. I’m ambidextrous.”

  Sweet and sour pickles! “Let’s get this straight here and now—I’m in no way, shape, or form a subordinate of yours.”

  His forehead pinched. “But you bring me protein shakes.”

  “I do that because I’m your friend.”

  “Friend?” He said it as if trying the word on for size. “I only have one of those. He owns a haunted hotel in Nevada.”

  “Well, now you have two.”

  “Excellent. The best things come in pairs, like nostrils, pillowcases, and chromosomes.” He started to turn away, but stopped, looking back at me. “But you will still bring me protein shakes?”

  “So long as you promise to keep the foundation on which our friendship is based a secret from everyone besides Doc.”

  “What does your doctor have to do with channeling ghosts?”

  “Not my doctor. I mean Doc.” When he continued to give me a blank look, I sighed. “You know, the medium whose office is next door to this one.”

  “The tall medium with whom you’re exchanging bodily fluids?”

  I grimaced. Did he have to focus on that aspect? “Yeah, him.”

  He winked at me. “Gotcha.”

  Did he mean he’d tricked me and really knew who Doc was, or he understood that I meant … fuck it. It didn’t matter.

  “Did you hear anything last night from our resident ghost?” I asked, looking around the office to see if Jane had been busy relocating furniture and paperwork like she had with Jerry lately.

  “The apparition was silent all evening.” He moved around behind the desk, bending to look at one of the computer screens. “My video and sound recorders didn’t pick up anything other than me.”

  After how disruptive Wilda’s ghost had been for Cornelius, maybe a quiet night was a good thing. He certainly seemed much more rested than he had for a while. Staying at Calamity Jane’s could be good for his health.

  “When was the last time you saw it?” he asked, his eyes still on his monitor.

  “Her,” I corrected.

  He glanced up. “Who?”

  “The apparition you are here to make contact with. It’s a her, not an it.”

  Even though Jane wasn’t here in the flesh, reducing her ectoplasmic entity to an “it” grated on me. She had been a wonderful, generous woman full of vitality and spunk until that spikey little bitch had snuffed the life from her. Jane deserved to be called a “her” after pouring so much of her soul into this business that now supported my family.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Have you reached out to it without me?”

  “Reached out to her, you mean.”

  His gaze held mine. He closed one eye and then the other, tilting his head slightly. “Have you made contact with her?”

  I shook my head. “Doc … I mean the tall medium was the first to detect a presence here. He confirmed it was a ‘her’—my old boss, to be exact.”

  “I shall speak with the tall medium further about this entity, see what other information he can offer on your ghost boss.”

  Someone knocked on Jerry’s office door.

  Cornelius frowned at the door. “Violet, did you hear a knocking sound just now, or have you brought something over from the other side again?”

  I rolled my eyes and walked to the door, pulling it open.

  Mona stood there with a smile on her glossy pink lips and a curious glint in her eyes. She looked as dazzling as ever, reminding me of Grace Kelly, all decked out for an evening on the town. Her cream-colored mohair shawl made her auburn hair look even more red than usual. A single strand of pearls graced her long neck.

  “I thought I heard you come in,” she said to me, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Mona, you’ve met Cornelius, right?”

  “Yes.” Her expertly tweezed, auburn brows lifted. “You were on the floor when I came in earlier and didn’t rouse when I called your name. Are you feeling okay?”

  “I was recharging.”

  The corner of Mona’s mouth twitched. “Are you back to one hundred percent now?”

  “I will be after I finish the protein drink Violet left for me in the refrigerator.”

  I frowned at him. “What drink?”

  I’d been running late this morning after trying to help Layne look for his late library book. For once, he wasn’t reading about ghosts. This one focused on weapons from the Middle Ages. My son’s interests ran eclectic at best, jumping from history to anatomy to the paranormal. Luckily, we’d found it in the basement behind Elvis the chicken’s cage. After dusting off the feathers, it’d looked almost as good as new—a few pecks on the spine notwithstanding.

  “Doc stopped by this morning and left the drink for you.” Mona solved the case of the appearing protein drink. “He got you a six-pack, actually.”

  My heart danced a jig of joy. Sweet and considerate Doc. While saying “Good night” to him on the front porch, I’d grumbled again about needing to get a protein drink for Cornelius, my other roommate, first thing this morning. He must have paid a visit to the Piggly Wiggly up in Lead and picked up the protein shakes, swinging back by the office before heading south to see his client in Hill City. How could I pay him back for his help? I know, I’d pour some butterscotch syrup down my shirt.

  “Violet,” Mona said, interrupting my sticky, X-rated head trip. “There’s someone here for you.”

  There was a hesitant undertone in her voice that made me pause. “Who is it?” Please don’t let it be Tiffany. I hadn’t had enough tequila yet today to handle her sharp talons.

  She moved closer, speaking in my ear. “Dominick Masterson.”

  I pulled back in surprise. “Here? In our office? Right now?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes. He’s waiting at your desk.” She winked. “And looking smoking hot to boot.”

  “I’ll talk to you more later, Cornelius.” Shedding my coat and scarf, I hung it by the back door before heading out front to see what Lead’s man of mystery wanted.

  Dominick sat on the corner of my desk, looking cologne-ad suave in his charcoal suit and half-buttoned wool topcoat. His Italian leather dress shoes probably cost more than my yearly car insurance bill. With his square jaw smooth-shaven and his dark hair slicked back, he looked doubly dangerous to the population—especially those equipped with a uterus. For me personally, he was positively deadly, and standing too close reminded me of that fact every time we shared breathing space.

  “Hello, Violet,” he said, his voice whiskey-smooth. “That color of blue really suits you.”

  “Thank you.” I swallowed the bout of nausea that came with his nearness and forced a smile to my lips, keeping the desk between us. “What brings you to Calamity Jane Realty this morning, Mr. Masterson?”

  “Please, call me Dominick.”

  “Dominick it is. How’s Ginny doing these days?”

  His wife’s whereabouts were something I’d wondered about since Harvey recently mentioned a juicy bit of gossip speculating that she’d up and left town for another man.

  “Didn’t you hear? She’s left me for another.”

  He said it like a man who’d lost a free-range cow in the hills, not a beautiful, young, blond wife. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He shrugged. “Her happiness must come first.” His eyes drifted down to my mouth. “Besides, there are other fish in the sea.”

  I knew better than to take his flirting seriously. For one thing, according to Aunt Zoe, I was the sort of poisonous fish his “kind” avoided hooking. For another, we were mortal enemies in normal times, and cautious adversaries at best during dark days like those that were supposedly upon us.

  “Good luck with your fishing.” The sound of clacking coming from Mona’s keyboard made me hold my tongue to only modest salutations. My coworkers knew nothing of the short but bizarre history Dominick and I shared and I wanted to keep it that way. “What can I d
o for you, Dominick?”

  “I’m in need of your services.”

  “You have some properties in mind?”

  My ex-boss and the building’s current ghost, Jane, had been acting as Dominick’s Realtor up until she’d been murdered. He’d once hinted that he could use another agent to take her place. Had the time come when he planned on following through on that remark?

  “A few. I would like you to help me.”

  There was something about the way he was watching me that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “Maybe we should discuss your needs in more detail to make sure I’m the right agent for what you need.”

  “Oh, you’re definitely the right one for the job.”

  Mona’s finger-clacking stopped. I didn’t need to look over at her to know she was now all ears on this conversation. She recently had to take over a client of mine who was harassing me when my boss wasn’t looking. A client who also happened to be the sperm donor for my children. She was probably wondering if Dominick would be another client from whom I’d need rescuing.

  “You’d mentioned a couple of months ago that you’d be looking for a replacement for Jane,” I said, trying to smooth things over so Mona would return to her key-clacking. “I’m happy to do what I can to help, although I’m not as knowledgeable as Jane.”

  “But you have a lot of potential.”

  For what? Burning down buildings? Getting blamed for an old woman’s murder? Killing troublemakers?

  Mona returned to clacking.

  “How about you follow me out, Violet, and I’ll give you the list of potential properties my secretary has put together.”

  Good idea. Once we were outside he could tell me what in the hell he was really doing here. “Are you out front or in back?”

  “Front. Just down the street in the lot next to the police station.”

  I cringed at the idea of going near the cop shop, but curiosity trumped my aversion to police badges. “Let me grab my coat.”

  I told Mona I’d be right back on my way past her, coat in hand. She gave me a raised-brow look and I smiled back, letting her know this was all hunky-dory.

  Dominick held the door for me. We headed down the sidewalk, passing in front of Doc’s dark office, strolling toward Deadwood’s Rec Center. I maintained enough distance between us for me to keep the nausea at bay that his presence inspired.

  After we’d crossed the street and reached the parking lot next to the station, I stopped. A cold wind blasted my cheeks. I burrowed down into my scarf. “What are you really doing here, Dominick?”

  He watched a dirty old pickup with ice-crusted fenders pass on the street. “I want to hire you.”

  “You were serious about needing an agent?”

  “Yes.” He looked at me, his eyes so dark that I couldn’t distinguish his pupils from his corneas. “But I also want to hire you for your other services.”

  “What other services?” If that damned new billboard made him think I was some kind of call girl, I was going to find Jerry and pop him in the nose.

  “Those you were born to do, Scharfrichter.”

  I took a step back at the sound of my other title. “You have something you want executed?”

  “Captured, not executed.”

  My gaze narrowed, but I said nothing. I was a killer, not a dogcatcher.

  “You see, before you executed her, Calypso freed something very valuable to me. Something that can wreak havoc amongst the wrong sort.”

  Caly had wreaked plenty of havoc on her own, murdering with glee on a whim. Hearing her name again made my molars grind.

  “You want me to catch the lidérc?” I asked. Just thinking about the other shadowy “being” Dominick wanted me to snare in a net gave me goosebumps.

  He nodded.

  I’d tried to catch the Hungarian devil before and it’d slipped my grasp with ease. “Why me? Don’t you know someone in your ‘other’ circle who can do the job?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What’s complicated?”

  “The capture. It’s not for the faint of heart.”

  I scoffed. “What makes you think my heart isn’t faint?”

  He laughed, loud enough to turn the heads of a pair of cops rushing through the cold into the station’s side door.

  “Oh, Violet. You are as funny as you are deadly.”

  He should see me and my hair first thing in the morning. I’d tickle the living hell right out of him … if that was even possible for a man I suspected to be a native of the fiery realm.

  Dominick sobered in a flash. “Think about my offer.”

  “What’s in it for me?” Besides the possibility of having the lidérc attach itself to me and make my life even more hellish than getting stuck on the Tilt-a-Whirl ride at the county fair with Cooper and Hawke for hours on end.

  “What would you like, Scharfrichter?”

  Guaranteed safety for my family, college tuition fully paid for my kids, a certain blowhard detective to be shipped off to the Antarctic to measure the sea ice for a season or two …

  Movement over by the side door of the station caught my eye.

  Detective Stone Hawke stared across the lot at me. Make that more like glared with his thick unibrow looking like a single fat caterpillar glued to his forehead.

  Shitballs! Hadn’t Cooper’s rubber glove treatment this morning been enough punishment for one day?

  “Same Hell, different devil,” I muttered as Hawke headed my way. “Dominick, you should probably leave now.”

  “Is that Detective Cooper’s partner coming our way?”

  “Yes, unfortunately, and I don’t think he’s happy about me talking to you.”

  Dominick held out a business card. “Call me when you’ve had time to think about my offer.”

  What offer? We hadn’t made it through the what’s-in-it-for-me part yet.

  After a nod good-bye, Dominick strode over to a black, shiny Land Rover, leaving me to face off with Detective Hawke on my own on the count of three, two …

  “Parker, what in the hell are you doing talking to a key witness in my murder case?” Hawke’s bluster matched Mother Nature’s this morning.

  As usual, the big buttinski stepped over the invisible line I’d toed on the asphalt and right into my comfort zone. His cheeks looked extra ruddy up close, almost clownish. I scowled at him, taking in his baggy pants, his puffy brown polyester jacket, and scruffy sideburns, which blended into the earflaps of the winter trapper hat he had pushed down on his overinflated noggin.

  “Dominick Masterson is hiring me as his real estate agent, Detective. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  His beady eyes narrowed. He leaned down, shoving his index finger in my face. The coffee on his breath smelled acidic, just like his personality. “Every single move you make these days is my business, Parker.”

  I will not bite his finger.

  I will not bite his finger.

  I will not bite his fucking finger!

  Barely keeping my choppers behind my lips, I stepped back and put some much needed space between us.

  “I won’t put up with your police harassment, Detective. While I am allowing Detective Cooper to keep tabs on me for the time being, I’d advise you not to push your luck and piss me off.”

  “Why? What are you going to do, Witch Woman? Put a spell on me?”

  I wasn’t sure a spell could do the trick he direly needed. Detective Hawke had a problem—his ego was two sizes too big for his bumbling body. Besides that, he had this misconception that he was a great detective, but the only thing he was actually good at being was an ass.

  As much as I’d like to stomp on Hawke’s toe and ram my knee into his groin, I’d told Cooper I’d play nice. “I’ll file a police harassment report on you.”

  His laugh was downright mean. “Oh, you do that, Parker. I’ll make sure personally that it gets filed … right down the toilet with your reputation.”

  Another cold blast made
me pull my coat tighter around me. “Can we have this pissing match some other day, Detective? It’s cold out here.”

  “Sure, as soon as you tell me what you did with the clocks.”

  “What clocks?”

  “The ones stolen off the walls in Ms. Wolff’s apartment last night.”

  “Why would I steal her clocks?”

  “That’s what I’m asking.”

  “Do you have any proof that it was me? Cooper was in the same house as me all night, remember?”

  “You could have had one of your minions do it while you distracted Cooper.”

  Oh, right. Hawke believed I was the Queen of Minion-land.

  “As for my proof, don’t worry that frizzy blond head about it.”

  A streak of red shot across my vision at his hair insult. It took me a couple of blinks to clear the fireworks it left behind from my sight. “I don’t know anything about missing clocks, Detective.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Believe what you want, but I have alibis besides Cooper.”

  “Who?”

  “My aunt Zoe, for one.”

  He guffawed, a billow of steam coming from his mouth. “Your aunt is about as trustworthy as you are.”

  Something tightened in my spine, making me stand up straighter. “My aunt is a well-respected woman in this community. She’s been here all her life and many of those who are on the city council and part of the Deadwood Chamber of Commerce will vouch for her.”

  “That’s because she has them under her spell. If she’s your flesh and blood, then she undoubtedly has her fingers mixed up in all of your schemes and crimes. I’m keeping an eye on her, too. First the bedroom mirror somehow got shattered and now more clocks are missing. Something smells fishy, and your aunt handles glass for a living.”

  I hid my wince. The bedroom mirror was sort of my fault, but there was no way I was owning up to that one. “I repeat. My aunt is innocent of all of these so-called crimes you’re trying to pin on me.”

  The leer on his face made me clench my fists. “According to what I’ve heard from several of the locals, she’s far from innocent.”

  My ears started to steam. The wind was no match for the furnace he’d lit inside of me. “What is that supposed to mean?”