Better Off Dead in Deadwood (28 page)

I started with the less crazy-sounding part of the explanation. “Harvey and I went to talk to Wanda after we dropped the kids off at school. When we got there, she said she was interested in selling the house again.”

“You didn’t sign a contract again to sell it, did you?”

I held out my free hand, palm up. “How else was I going to get you inside without her around unless I had the key?”

“Damn, this is my fault then.” He raked his fingers through his hair, leaving a few locks askew. “What’s your boss going to think of this?”

“I don’t know. I’ll see when I get to work.” Speaking of work, I glanced at the clock. Crap! It was time to move this conversation train out of the station. I kicked off my heels. “Hold onto these.” I handed him my wad of clean underwear without thinking and slipped past him, heading toward the bathroom only to realize I still needed to tell him about Prudence. “Come on,” I said, waving him to follow me.

He filled the bathroom door frame, his shoulders looking strong and broad and sexy. I dragged my gaze away, reminding myself that work called—there was no time to play.

“So how did Prudence actually speak to you?” he asked, looking down at the underwear balled in his hand. “I thought you can’t see ghosts.”

“I can’t.” I pulled out the bobby pins keeping most of my hair secured and shook loose my curls. “Wanda was sitting in the parlor, chatting with me about selling the place, and then she touched my hands. That’s when everything got weird.”

“Weird how?”

I reached inside the tub and turned on the water. “All of a sudden,” I said over the noise of running water, “her voice changed, sounded younger and stronger.” I unzipped my skirt and let it fall, my short slip still in place. “Then Prudence started talking to me.”

I looked up while unbuttoning my shirt and caught him frowning at me. “If you don’t believe me, ask Harvey,” I told him while shucking my shirt. “He was there. He saw it, too.”

Tightening my short terry cloth robe over my bra and slip, I reached in and tested the water, still cool. When I looked back at Doc, his forehead was still lined. If he thought Prudence speaking through Wanda was frown-worthy, he wasn’t going to like what came next.

“She warned me to stay away from the mine until I read the book,” I said. “And then she said I had a lot to learn yet.”

I unclipped my bra through my robe and slipped it off through the arm holes, tossing the pink lace on the rest of my jail-tainted pile. My slip and underwear came next, the robe shielding me the whole time. I’d come back later to scoop up the clothes and dump them in a bag to go to the dry cleaners.

Doc looked at the pile of clothes, his jaw taut.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I said.

His gaze slid my way. “What am I thinking?”

I tested the water, perfectly steaming. Now if only I had some 14-grit sandpaper to scrub off the filthy microbes probably trying to burrow into my skin.

“Could you turn around for a moment?” I asked, untying my belt.

He raised one eyebrow. “That’s not what I was thinking,” he said, then turned his back to me.

I tossed my robe onto the dirty clothes pile, since it was now covered with jail germs, and crawled behind the dark-blue shower curtain. Grabbing the soap, I scrubbed fast and hard, then wet my hair.

“You’re thinking,” I continued, speaking over the spray, “that my studying the book is a mistake.” I shampooed and rinsed, then let conditioner sit in my hair. “For one thing, you don’t have the time or patience to read it to me, since I can’t read Latin.”

I rinsed again, sticking my head under the spray before adding, “And you’re thinking that my reading through the book will only make my nightmares seem more real, more terrifying.”

Shutting off the water, I wrapped a towel around me before I stepped out of the tub. Doc now leaned against the wall next to the light switch, watching me, his face still criss-crossed with high tension lines.

“And you’re probably right about the nightmares,” I told him, grabbing Aunt Zoe’s robe and tying it around me. “But maybe it’s time for me to roll up my pant legs and wade through the book with you.” I loosened the towel underneath the robe, pulled it off, and wrapped it around my wet hair. “Let me throw on some clothes and then you can tell me where I’m wrong. Be right back.”

I barefooted it back to my bedroom and closed the door behind me. A glance at the clock made me chew on my knuckles. Standing in front of my closet, I tried to decide what outfit would please Jerry the most. If I were wearing his idea of the perfect real estate agent outfit when he found out I’d been in jail over lunch, maybe he’d think twice before giving me a pink slip.

Pink! He seemed to like pink. I grabbed a straight-hipped dark pink skirt and a pale pink silk blouse. That would do it, feminine yet professional.

My bedroom door banged open, making me jump. I whirled around, taking a step back as Doc stalked toward me. My pulse revved up at the intent blazing in his dark, dark eyes.

“You forgot something, Boots.” He dangled my bra and panties between us. “But I didn’t.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Stop right there,” I told Doc as he bore down on me, took the skirt out of my hands, and tossed it on the bed. “I have to get to work.”

“You were wrong,” he said.

“About what?” I asked, shielding myself behind my blouse.

“My thoughts, the book, several things.” He tugged my shirt away from me and sent it after my skirt.

“You don’t think Prudence was talking about the demon book?”

“I have no idea.” He grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the bed. “I stopped thinking about that damned ghost when you dropped your skirt.”

Before I could catch my balance, he swung me around and kissed me, bending me backwards, his hands everywhere at once. By the time his mouth left mine, my robe was untied and gaping. His thumbs hitchhiked south along my spine, tickling the tender indents of my lower back.

“Doc,” I said, trying to regain my breath, my balance, my senses. “I have to get to work.”

“You just stripped in front of me.” His lips brushed over mine again, this time tender, seducing me into seeking more. “And then you took a shower. That’s fantasy material, Boots. You’re not going anywhere until we finish this.”

I clung to him, a bit bamboozled, yet still aware that the sight of my full frontal nudity in the bright afternoon light along with my lack of makeup might turn Doc into a pillar of salt. “I wasn’t trying to be sexy.”

“You don’t have to try, Violet.” He slid his palms down over my hips, cupping, hauling me closer. “Not for me.”

His scent mixed with a whiff of his cologne teased my senses, luring me, making me want to touch, to taste his skin.

Oh, hell, Jerry could wait. I framed Doc’s face with my hands and brought his mouth back to mine, tugging on his full lower lip with my teeth, teasing with flicks of my tongue, not quite committing.

“Kiss me, woman.” His voice had a thick rasp to it.

I obeyed, taking my sweet time, savoring how his mouth alone could make me tingle in some spots and flutter in others.

Trailing my fingers down his shirt, I stopped at his belt, scraping over his stomach through his shirt. “Doc?”

“What?” He tipped my chin up, his mouth burning a trail down my neck.

“Prudence told me that zombies threw Jane in the pit, and that something usually takes the bodies, but it didn’t this time.”

“Is there some reason you’re telling me this right now?” he asked against my skin.

“Yeah, because once your pants come off, I tend to get distracted.”

I moved my hand lower, teasing, not quite making contact … yet.

Pressed against him, I felt his groan rumble up from deep in his chest. “Touch me, Violet,” he said softly as his tongue traced my ear.

Touching seemed too tame, so I grabbed him through his pants and then squeezed, rubbing at the same time.

“Is this what you meant, Doc? Or would you like it more if I used my nails on you?” I scraped up his khakis, then pressed back down with the heel of my palm.

“Vixen,” he said, his hand covering mine, adding more pressure.

“How about my tongue?” I pulled his mouth down to mine, giving him a demonstration. “Is that what you want?”

He took my hand and slid it inside the front of his pants. “I want—”

“Violet?” Aunt Zoe’s voice called up the stairs, penetrating the rush of blood in my ears.

Snatching my hand free, I stumbled backward into the bed. Doc caught me before I fell, righting me. He grabbed my robe lapels and pulled them closed, then handed me my unmentionables.

I could hear Aunt Zoe’s footfalls coming up the steps.

Crap! Damn! Shit!

“I’m in my room getting dressed,” I called, surprised at the steadiness of my voice as I struggled into my underwear.

Her footfalls stopped. “Where’s Doc?”

How did she know he was—oh, right, his car was sitting in the drive. I looked at Doc, wondering what to say. I couldn’t lie to her.

Doc’s gaze zeroed in on my nether regions while I slipped on my bra. “I’m watching her dress,” he called out, a grin curving his lips.

My cheeks warmed. I shot him a what-the-hell glare.

Aunt Zoe’s chuckle tumbled through the open door.

Doc winked and kept watching as I adjusted the “girls” so they were pointing in the right direction without falling out the sides.

“I’m sorry to bug you two,” Aunt Zoe said, “but your boss stopped by my gallery looking for you, Violet.”

Jerry was looking for me? Uh, oh. I needed to hurry up and get to Calamity Jane’s. I buttoned my blouse.

“He said he couldn’t reach you on your cell phone,” Aunt Zoe added.

I’d forgotten all about my cell phone thanks to that fight with Cooper and the note I’d found in my purse. The battery had to be long dead by now.

“What did Jerry want?” I asked, stepping into my skirt.

“He came to see if the rumor was true,” she said.

I looked at Doc, my gut contracting in dread. “What rumor?”

“The one about you being in jail.”

* * *

“Is there such a thing as a secret in this damned town?” I asked Harvey and Aunt Zoe later that evening after supper was over and all but the dessert dishes were cleared away. The smell of baked chicken still filled the room, adding comfort to the already homey, yellow kitchen.

“Sure,” Harvey said, scraping his fork across the bottom of his plate, trying to get every last crumb and dollop of strawberry-rhubarb pie. “Just ask Coop. He’s always snoopin’ into other people’s business and learnin’ their secrets.”

“I’m not talking to Cooper at the moment,” I grumbled, spinning my fork on the table. “He went too far today.”

Way too far. In fact, I’d be damned lucky if my job weren’t a thing of the past, with all of the sweating and struggling to stay employed over the last few months for naught. Tomorrow morning at nine I’d know for sure. That’s when I was supposed to meet Jerry at Bighorn Billy’s, according to the note that had been taped to my desk phone when I’d finally made it into work this afternoon.

Mona had been the only one at Calamity Jane’s when I showed up. Ray was out for the afternoon, showing some properties around Spearfish, and Jerry had had an appointment in Rapid that included dinner and drinks.

When I’d joked with Mona that I’d picked a good day to land in jail, she’d dropped the other shoe—she’d taken a message for Jerry after he left regarding Ray’s nephew, Ben. The call was from a previous employer, which meant Jerry was checking into Ben’s references.

I’d rested my forehead on my desk, trying to think up ways of blackmailing Cornelius into buying that damned hotel. Stapling strawberry jam to a wall would have been easier.

Then I sent a text to Natalie:
Need an apprentice? I’m about to lose my job to your old friend, Ben Underhill. Will swing hammer for food.

She didn’t text back.

The rest of my afternoon had been much calmer until I’d dropped my cell phone in the toilet. And on that note, I’d called it a day and come home to shove my face in Aunt Zoe’s cookie jar. Unfortunately, Harvey had beaten me to it and left me a lone chocolate chip and some crumbs.

The urge to crawl under my covers and convince Doc to come over, lock the bedroom door, and finish what we’d started before the outside world had interfered had me fidgeting, but he wasn’t answering his phone. I needed to wait for my cell phone to dry out so I could try texting him and see if he’d left me any voicemails.

Aunt Zoe reached across the table and took my spinning fork away. “Violet, that’s enough moping and grousing about Detective Cooper. What’s done is done. I’m sure he had his reasons, no matter how off-base they seem to you and me.” She placed my fork next to hers. “Now tell me again what Helen Tarragon said about Jane.”

I’d already gone over this, but Aunt Zoe had been running water in the sink at the time, so she must not have heard it all. “Helen didn’t say much, just something about Jane being a best friend who also slept with her husband.”

Aunt Zoe stared at me hard enough to make me begin to question my memory of that moment in the opera house. Had Helen said anything else?

“Did Helen mention if Jane’s affair with Peter was recent history or old news?” Aunt Zoe asked.

I shook my head. “And I didn’t get time to ask her anything else before Cooper showed up with Dominick. But judging from what I heard Helen say to Peter a couple of days ago in that other hallway, it sounds like the affair was more recent.”

After the kids had left the supper table to go watch television, I’d caught Harvey and Aunt Zoe up on the conversation that took place during my accidental eavesdropping on the ever-so-loving Tarragons.

Aunt Zoe planted her elbows on the table, rubbing her temples. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What?” I asked. “Jane having an affair with Peter, or Peter killing Jane?”

“Or Helen killing Jane?” Harvey threw in, laying his fork across his plate. “We can’t cross her off the list. You know the sayin’.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?” I asked.

“No. The one that goes, ‘Women—you can’t live with them, you can’t sleep with their best friends.’”