Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6)

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Table of Contents
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Dear Reader
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Maps of Deadwood & Lead
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About the Author
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More Books by Ann
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Recommended Reads
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Contact Information
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Copyright

For more on Ann and her books, check out her website anncharles.com, as well as the reader reviews for her books on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads.

Dear Reader,

Last year, I wrote a book in the midst of packing, selling, buying, and moving over a thousand miles. What did I do for an encore with this newest Deadwood book? My family took two—not one, but two!!—three-week road trips while I was finishing, editing, and publishing. It’s official now; I’m one twist short of a Slinky.

The first trip was to Deadwood, South Dakota for some fun with fans and friends; the other was to Ohio to see my family and visit some local libraries. Instead of asking me “Are we there yet?” my kids kept asking, “Are you done yet?” I can’t tell you how happy I was when I could finally tell them, “Yes!”

Some of the coolest things I’ve experienced since writing the Deadwood Mystery series are the opportunities I’ve been given in the pursuit of research. For example, while researching for MEANWHILE, BACK IN DEADWOOD, I was able to go on a ghost tour up in the old brothels in Deadwood’s notorious Badlands section. Our wonderful hostess, Ericka Newman, led us from one room to the next in the dark, our flashlights making the evening even eerier. For decades, I’d dreamed of being able to walk through those rooms, experiencing the sights, smells, and sounds. Exploring the brothels was an incredible experience that I’ll always treasure.

We also enjoyed a tour of the old Fairmont Hotel, led from floor to floor of this old haunted building by Ron Russo, the current owner. If you ever go to Deadwood, I recommend taking this tour. Even if you don’t believe in ghosts, it’s fun to see the bones of the Fairmont Hotel.

I hope you get some chuckles and chills out of this latest chapter of Violet Parker’s ongoing story. As old man Harvey often says, “Never drop your gun to hug a grizzly.”

http://www.anncharles.com

To Marguerite

You take care of me like there is no “in-law’ behind the word daughter.

Thank you for all of your help bringing yet another book together. You edit for me, make sure I’m well-fed, take care of my kids, listen to all of my woes, and keep coming back for more. On top of all that, you shared your wonderful son with me who follows in your footsteps.

I don’t know how you remain so sane after raising five children while teaching high school English all of those years.

You’re crazy awesome!

Love you.

Also by Ann Charles

Deadwood Mystery Series:

Nearly Departed in Deadwood (Book 1)

Optical Delusions in Deadwood (Book 2)

Dead Case in Deadwood (Book 3)

Better Off Dead in Deadwood (Book 4)

An Ex to Grind in Deadwood (Book 5)

Short Stories from the Deadwood Mystery Series:

Deadwood Shorts: Seeing Trouble

Deadwood Shorts: Boot Points

Dig Site Mystery Series:

Look What the Wind Blew In (Book 1)

Jackrabbit Junction Mystery Series:

Dance of the Winnebagos (Book 1)

Jackrabbit Junction Jitters (Book 2)

The Great Jackalope Stampede (Book 3)

A Short Story from the upcoming Goldwash Mystery Series

The Old Man’s Back in Town

Coming Next from Ann Charles:

The Rowdy Coyote Rumble

(Jackrabbit Junction Mystery Series: Book 4)

Deadwood #7—Title TBA

(Deadwood Mystery Series: Book 7)

Dig Site #2—Title TBA

(Dig Site Mystery: Book 2)

Chapter One

Sunday, October 21st

Deadwood, South Dakota

Meanwhile, back at the ranch …

My lily white ass was not tough enough to handle the Wild, Wild West, especially if it were chockfull of pissed-off ghosts and relentless ghouls.

Take the century old ranch house that currently filled the windshield of old man Harvey’s pickup as he braked to a dusty stop in the driveway.

No, seriously, somebody take it.

Anybody.

As Harvey’s real estate agent, it was my job to sell his place. Unfortunately, when I had signed on to represent the ornery cuss, both of us had been unaware his ranch came not only with a ghost or two but with various severed body parts—some dried up, some still juicy.

Harvey killed the engine and looked over at me. “What’s goin’ on with your face there, Sparky? It’s all puckered up like you swaller’d your chew.”

“Can it with the
Sparky
crap.” I reached across the bench seat and snapped one of his rainbow suspenders. “It’s ‘Violet,’ remember? What’d I tell you about using nicknames right now?”

I had the whole of Deadwood’s fire and police departments calling me unflattering nicknames these days. I didn’t need my self-appointed bodyguard doing his part to remind me of my flame-filled past, particularly in the presence of the all-seeing reality television crew my boss had lured to town with promises of haunted locations and ectoplasmic costars.

Harvey harrumphed. “But I’m partial to
Sparky Parker
.”

“He’s right,” piped up my best friend, Natalie Beals, from the backseat of the pickup. “It rolls right off the tongue, just like Pickle-faced Parker always did.”

“And Boob-headed Beals,” I threw back, pointing my knock-it-off finger at her. The same one I often aimed at my almost-ten-year-old twins. “Now zip those fat lips of yours, or I’ll sic Harvey’s good-for-nothing dog on you.”

“What? And have old Red slobber me to death?” Natalie tugged on the ear of the yellow lab snoring next to her. The sleeping dog grunted but kept his eyes closed. “Harvey, I think your dog’s in a coma.”

“He’s just sufferin’ from Cupid’s cramps after a night of playin’ Don Juan to a saucy poodle two doors down.”

“I thought his puppy-making days were over,” Natalie said.

“They are, but Red still likes to give ‘er the bone whenever he sniffs out an opportunity.”

I shoved open my door. “Sounds like he’s been hanging around his owner too long.”

Natalie joined me out in the crisp October air, shivering in her blue jeans and corduroy coat. I was glad I’d settled on my soft wool slacks and chenille sweater today instead of that bohemian skirt and tunic. We frowned up at the dark clouds gathering in the west. Things were about to get colder here in the hills.