Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) (41 page)

He joined me outside a few minutes later, holding my hand as we walked to his car. “According to the Blues Brothers, it all started with Cindy Brady.”

“Katie started it?” That wasn’t her style. I would have put my money on Claire. Although, those pregnancy hormones could really do a number on a woman’s tolerance level, especially around drunks. I knew from experience.

“In their words, Cindy got into a yelling match with Cyclops the bartender after he made some derogatory remark about her being a ditzy blonde. When he threatened to call the police on her, she threw a mug of beer in his face.”

“She’d been annoyed at the bartender since Nat and I arrived. Something about her ex-boyfriend who owns a bar down in Arizona.”

“While Cyclops was calling the cops, Cindy climbed up onto the bar and leapt onto the bartender’s back, beating him over the head with poor innocent Thing.”

“She beat him with a rubber hand?” My laughter echoed off the brick buildings.

When we reached Doc’s Camaro, he held the door for me, continuing the tale. “So the bartender grabbed the beer tap nozzle and sprayed Cindy in the face with beer as he swung around trying to shake her off. Meanwhile, Marsha Brady tried to race to the rescue and slipped on the wet floor, knocking all three of them down where they wrestled around in a heap.”

“You’re kidding.” That must have been the commotion I had noticed below when I was in the midst of having a back arching orgasm that would have knocked my socks off if I’d been wearing any. I waited for Doc to slide behind the steering wheel. “Why was Nat dragged off with them?”

He started up and backed out of the parking spot. “The Blues Brothers claim that when Marsha, Cindy, and the Cyclops were on the floor brawling in a puddle of beer, some drunk in a Where’s Waldo costume yelled for Marsha and Cindy to show him their chests. At that point, the skeleton babe strode over and clocked Waldo in the chin, knocking him out cold.”

Doc pulled out onto Main Street and headed toward the police station. I pictured the whole Three Stooges routine, giggling.

“Nat does have a wicked uppercut,” I said as Doc took a left at the light.

“So does Thing according to Cyclops.”

I burst out laughing. By the time Doc pulled into the cop shop, I’d sobered enough to head inside and rescue my friends.

Doc’s grip on my arm held me in my seat. He looked me over, the parking lot lights making his face more rugged. “You might want to put the wig back on for now.”

“Why? Is my hair a mess?”

“You look like a wild woman who had sex against the wall in the alley behind a bar.”

“We were upstairs in a haunted brothel.”

He shook his head, letting out a low whistle. “God, you were so damned hot, all soft and wet, ready and moaning.” He groaned, adjusting his pants. “I have to stop thinking about you up against that wall, or we’ll have to make a quick trip to my place before getting the girls out of jail.”

Had he really said he loved me in Gomez speak? Did that actually happen? Or had I just been high and still stuck in fantasyland from the killer sex we’d had?

“We need to do that again,” I told him. Especially the end part where he told me, Violet Parker—not Morticia Addams—that he was in love with me. In the meantime, I’d have to wait and see if he said it again before getting ahead of myself and removing the muzzle from my heart.

He twirled one of my blonde curls around his finger. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I leaned over and grabbed him through his suit pants, making him suck in a breath. He was rock solid in my palm. “You were brutal and fierce, raging against me. Just thinking about it makes me want to hike up my dress and climb on your lap for more.”

“Christ, Boots. You paint a hell of a scene.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, picture this. The next time we try that position, I want you to bend me over your desk. I have a fantasy about making a mess all over your spreadsheets.”

He growled, grabbing me by the back of the neck and hauling me against him. He kissed me like he wanted to eat me alive. If we had been in his bed, I would have let him.

When he let me go, I squeezed him once more and smiled slow and sultry. “Hold that thought, big boy. I’m gonna go find out how to spring those jailbirds. Come inside when you get your kinks worked out.”

I slipped on the Morticia wig and climbed out. Before I made it to the station’s front steps, I twisted my dress sideways at the waist so that the ripped seam looked like a side slit. Making sure the girls were still tucked in my dress, I straightened my shoulders and went in to face off with Deadwood’s finest.

Cooper came through the door that led to the back offices and jail cells a minute after the front desk clerk had called and announced that Morticia Addams had arrived to see the three troublemakers.

The detective looked me over, one eyebrow lifting at what he saw. “Where’s Gomez?”

“He’s parking the car.”

“Good. I need to talk to both of you.”

“If this is about what happened at the bar …”

“It’s not.” He tugged on his tie, loosening it. “I got called away by Hawke while Nyce and you were dancing. I must have been gone not much more than a half hour when all hell broke loose there.”

“Katie’s pregnant,” I explained. “Her hormones are like hundreds of little Yosemite Sams with six-shooters a-blazin’. That bartender is lucky she beat him with a rubber hand instead of a whiskey bottle.”

His lips twitched. “Well, to give Kate some credit, the bartender was being an asshole to her. I was up there one time when she was ordering. He called her a blonde bimbo for no reason. I think he was getting off on riling her up.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, speaking on behalf of the blonde nation, that crap doesn’t go over well with most of us. Nor do the stupid ass blonde jokes.”

“I noticed that.” He glanced behind me as the front door opened and Doc walked in. “Hey, Gomez.”

“Bond, old boy. Good to see you here.”

“Come on back.” Cooper waved for us to follow him. “I think Natalie really did a number on her hand,” he said over his shoulder. “I gave her an ice pack until they’re done with the paperwork. She may need a trip to the hospital when she’s done here.”

“What do we need to do to get the three of them out of here?” I asked as we walked down the long linoleum hallway toward his office. I caught a glimpse of Claire minus her Marsha Brady wig sitting at one of the desks, a piece of paper in front of her, a cellphone up to her ear. Where were Katie and Natalie?

“Nothing.” Cooper held his office door open for us. “I took care of it. They’re just writing up their side of the story in case assault charges are filed against any of them.” He shut the door behind us and leaned against it.

“So, if they’re good to go, what’s with the trip to the principal’s office?” I asked. One of those a week was plenty.

“I want to have the séance at Uncle Willis’ place on Friday night.”

I looked at his calendar on his desk. “No way, that’s the Day of the Dead.”

“I thought that was November 1
st
,” Cooper said.

“November 1
st
is the Day of the Innocents,” Doc clarified. “November 2
nd
is the Day of the Dead.”

“So? We don’t celebrate that up this way.”

“I know,” I said, “but don’t you think it’s creepy to have a séance on the Day of the Dead?” I looked to Doc. “Aren’t we asking for more trouble than usual? That has to be as bad an omen as having it tonight, I’d think.”

“What’s the big deal about tonight?” Cooper asked.

“All Hallows Eve is when the dead come back looking for bodies to possess. I think we should wait for a night when the dead are resting peacefully.”

Doc grinned at me. “When we’re together,
cara mia
,” he said in his Gomez voice, “every day is Halloween.”

I poked him in the side. “
Cállate
, smartass.”

“Tish, that’s …”

“Spanish,” Cooper filled in dryly.

“Close enough,” Doc winked at me, kissing my wrist.

“You two need to get a room.”

Yes, we did, preferably not in a haunted brothel this time. But Cooper was staying at Doc’s house, damn it, so we were limited to flirty glances and wall sex.

“Although your dress now has a rip that I don’t remember seeing earlier,” Cooper said, looking us over with that all-seeing squint. “And Gomez here seems to have misplaced his moustache.”

Doc chuckled. “Maybe I should file a missing moustache report.”

“Anyway, Detective,” I detoured the conversation, my cheeks warm. “How about Saturday night?”

“Nope, Friday is the one night I know Hawke will be down in Rapid. He’s not coming back up until Saturday afternoon. It has to be Friday. I don’t want to take any chances on getting caught.”

“What about next week?” I asked.

“I gave you the box of teeth, Parker. It’s your turn to pay up on our deal.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Friday night is the date. My uncle will be there with us.”

“Fine.”

Doc squeezed my hand, giving me a reassuring smile. “We’ll be there,” Doc said to Cooper.

“Good.” The detective reached for the doorknob, but then hesitated, hitting me with a hard stare. “When you show up, Parker, make sure you have my great grandfather’s sawed-off, double-barreled shotgun with you.”

“I don’t have it.” At least I didn’t think I did, unless Harvey had stashed it in the Picklemobile without telling me.

“Then you have two days to find it. Trust me, you don’t want me to talk Detective Hawke into getting a search warrant to come hunting for it. With your history, Lord only knows what else he might find.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Thursday, November 1st

Meanwhile, back at the grocery store …

“I think I’m allergic to cops,” I told Doc on the phone early the next morning.

“All cops? Or two detectives in particular?” His voice was still scratchy from sleep.

I wished I were there under the covers next to him instead of on my way to get a protein shake for Cornelius. Jerry had beat my alarm clock to the punch again this morning, telling me the latest game plan involving Rosy the Riveter, a certain ghost whisperer, and me. Ray had been benched after yesterday’s surprise visit from the tooth fairy, and now Dickie was out of the game thanks to that nasty cold bug the rest of his crew had—well, except for Rosy.

“All cops,” I told Doc, “but the one sleeping in your spare bedroom gives me the hives from just a glare.”

He chuckled, deep and throaty. It sounded incredibly sexy, making my body get steamy in all of the Doc-sensitive spots. Ever since his goodnight kisses last night, which had involved a lot of heated whispers about how he was going to torture me with his mouth until I delivered on that massage I’d promised him last week, my ears hadn’t stopped smoking.

I killed the Picklemobile’s engine in front of Piggly Wiggly, scaring the bejeezus out of several birds when the old truck backfired.

“Where are you?” Doc asked. “And why aren’t you here offering me breakfast in bed?”

“I’m at the grocery store.” I climbed out of the Picklemobile and started across the parking lot. “I can bring you a protein shake.”

“I’m not talking about food.”

Poof! There went more smoke.

His line sent me into a déjà vu spin, only there was a dirty old buzzard in the other version of this conversation. “You remind me of Harvey.”

“Me fantasizing about having your body for breakfast reminds you of Willis? That just seems wrong.” He yawned. “Maybe I’m still asleep and having a twisted dream.”

I stepped inside the store, heading straight for the deli where they kept their cooled drinks. “Harvey was cursing at me yesterday for interfering with his morning tail.”

“And for good reason. Damn it, woman, get over here and let me lick your thighs again.”

Last night’s tongue lashing he’d given me in the haunted brothel replayed in my head. I stood there overheating in front of the cooler full of protein drinks.

“Doc,” I whispered, turning my back on the deli counter lady waiting to see if I needed help. “If you don’t knock it off, I’m going to have to go over to the fresh vegetables section and redirect one of those water mister nozzles down the front of my dress.”

“Which dress?”

“White with pink stripes.” Another one of Jerry’s outfit choices. Even though Dickie wasn’t there to be on camera, Jerry wanted me to be prepared in case Rosy wanted to do some filming.

“I don’t remember that one. Are you wearing panties today?”

“Are you serious?”

“When it comes to you, definitely.” I heard the sound of a door shutting. “There’s only one reason you would be at the store buying a protein shake this early. Is this part of the deal to get your Planet of the Apes pal to join us tomorrow night at Willis’ ranch?”

“No. Jerry called this morning and told me I need to take the camera-woman over to do some filming at Cornelius’s hotel. I know better than to show up at his door this early without liquid protein.” I didn’t want him to scare Rosy off, although I was starting to get the feeling that it would take more than a ghost or a cranky Abe Lincoln doppelganger to impress Rosy. “When I have a moment alone with Cornelius, I’ll see if he’s available tomorrow.”

I sort of hoped he was busy. While Cooper may have spoken his piece, I was still against doing the séance on the Day of the Dead. If we couldn’t get our Pied Piper lined up, then the deal was off as far as I was concerned.

“Call me when you get an answer from him.” The sound of the shower kicking on came through the phone. “If he’s game, I’ll phone Cooper and let him know we’re definitely on.”

“This is a bad idea.”

“You mean the séance or you joining me in the shower?”

“Both.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“An axe-wielding juggernaut and you turning on the cold water again so you can get your rocks off by rubbing soap over my high beams.”

A chuckle came through the line. “
Ay yi yi
.”

“
Au revoir, Gomez
. I’ll call you later.” I hung up before he started giving me a play-by-play of what he wanted to do with me in the shower. I doubted the store manager would appreciate finding me in the freezer while I consoled my undersexed libido with a gallon of peanut butter fudge ice cream.