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

To make this Rex matter even stickier, my boss and coworkers had no clue of Rex’s role in my life. Mona knew I had some issues with him, but none of them had an inkling that he was my twins’ real father, and it needed to stay that way for the kids’ protection.

I swallowed the coconut-sized lump made up of fury and disgust pulsing in my throat and somehow managed to put a smile on my lips and aim it at Jerry. “Mr. Connor is very picky. I’m still looking for that perfect rental he can call home for as long as he needs it.”

Or until I killed him.

Maybe I could still broker real estate deals from prison? Now that might make for a fun-filled reality TV show.

“Let me know if you need help with taking care of that client,” Ben offered, his smile kind yet knowing. He and Mona had walked in right after a rather tense physical moment between Doc, Rex, and me. They’d both agreed to zip their lips about witnessing anything and had stayed true to their word so far.

“That’s some great teamwork, Ben,” Jerry said. “You all are doing a bang-up job on the sales boards.”

Thank you
, I mouthed to Ben as the waiter appeared. He nodded back, and took the plate of food the waiter handed him.

Jerry dug in along with the rest of us, talking to us in between bites. “The reason I called this huddle today is to fill you in on how things are going to play out with the Paranormal Realty camera crew.”

My gut clenched. Ever since Jerry’s not-so-genius marketing idea to have a reality television crew come to town and do several Paranormal Realty shows on the haunted locations throughout Deadwood and Lead, I’d been walking around feeling like a thunder cloud of doom was waiting to downpour all over my head.

“Mona is going to play dispatcher back at the office while the filming is being done.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin and focused on Mona. “Red, you’re going to need to be my assistant coach, covering incoming calls for whoever is working with the camera crew each day, as well as offering help from home base with any issues that may pop up while they’re on location.”

She agreed but with a small frown. What was with that frown? Did she know something the rest of us didn’t?

My esophagus tightened, putting a squeeze on the bacon I’d just sent down the pipe. I sipped from my glass of water, sending down reinforcements to push everything along.

“Ben and Violet,” Jerry’s gaze swung back and forth between us. “You two will be our point guards. You’ll be representing Calamity Jane Realty on camera, making us look good. You’ll take turns being with the camera crew every other day during filming.”

I looked over at Ben, who was nodding with a smile. He seemed genuinely pleased that he was going to be on televisions throughout South Dakota and beyond, showing supposedly haunted houses. Had someone spiked his orange juice? If so, I wanted some spiked juice, too.

I gulped down a cry of alarm. The idea of speaking in front of a camera every other day made my hives break out in a sweat.

Jerry moved on, oblivious to my outward signs of discomfort as usual. Mona had me locked in her sights, though, and judging from her worried expression, she could read me like a radiation hazard sign.

“My man, Ray, here is going to run our defense.” When I just stared at Jerry while the warning alarms blared inside of my skull, he added, “In other words, he’ll be going with Ben and Violet during the days they are going to be on camera, making sure all goes smoothly.”

There it was—the mushroom cloud of doom.

“Why?” was all I could get out.

“Because I realize that by having this TV crew here and cameras rolling, there is the potential for us to not be at the top of our game. None of us at this table want Calamity Jane Realty to become a laughingstock on national television. Ray’s job will be to make sure you two look good in front of the camera at all times.”

I’d rather be drawn and quartered than spend full days with Ray while a camera followed us around. I chanced a glance at Ray and ran into his molar-grinding smirk.

“Violet and Ray,” Jerry seemed to pick up on the spiky vibes flowing back and forth between us, “I know that you two have some compatibility issues you need to work through.”

Compatibility issues? Had Jerry been taking Human Resources classes on the side? Did my wanting to sock Ray in the nose every time I saw his fat orangutan face fit under the column of Compatibility Issues?

“I expect you to be able to put your differences aside and show good sportsmanship in front of the camera crew. We don’t need this to turn into some reality TV soap opera. Can I count on you to do your best for the team on this?”

“Of course,” Ray answered Johnny-on-the-spot. I was surprised he’d heard Jerry’s question what with his head jammed so far up our boss’s ass.

Jerry turned to me. “How about you, Violet?”

“I won’t let you down,” I said and meant it. I’d try my best. And if Ray ended up buried alive in a grave down in South America, I’d try my best to have an ironclad alibi.

The rest of the meeting slogged past while I forced food down the hatch. Jerry focused on some new regulations for Realtors that were being considered by the state ruling committee and what the Deadwood Historic Preservation Committee had been up to lately when it came to selling historic buildings.

The rest of the day moved along in fast motion around me while I stared unseeingly at my computer and chewed on my knuckles about Ray, TV cameras, haunted houses, and everything that could go wrong when adding me to that mix. The list of possibilities was amazingly long when I wrote them all down on paper as a means of therapeutic release. They wadded up incredibly easily, though.

At some point during the afternoon, Doc called and we discussed his coming to dinner tonight. Before he hung up, he asked if I’d tried to reach Eddie Mudder again. Eddie von Lurch, as I’d renamed him, had not answered last night when I called at ten o’clock precisely. Nor had he answered at ten-thirty, ten-forty-five, or eleven. I’d given up then and forgotten all about calling back today thanks to Jerry’s bomb about Ray’s new reign of terror.

When I pulled into Aunt Zoe’s drive, I was surprised to see her truck still sitting there. I looked at the time on my cellphone—half past five. Wasn’t she supposed to have left earlier this afternoon for Denver? Hadn’t she planned to drive down there with a friend?

Harvey’s pickup was there, too, which I’d expected since I’d asked him to get the kids from school and watch them until I made it home from work.

I shivered all of the way up the sidewalk to the front porch. The nights were below freezing regularly now up here in the hills, most days only warming up enough to melt the frost for a few hours. The smell of wood smoke mixed with the pine trees made me want to cozy up in front of the fire tonight with Doc. It was a romantic fantasy, probably spurred from something I’d seen on an erection pill-popping commercial. Reality would undoubtedly be much different thanks to my two kids and the misadventures that came with them.

The house smelled like baking pork when I walked through the door. By the time I reached my Aunt Zoe’s kitchen, I was salivating like the big bad wolf. My two little piglets were pounding around overhead, their homework spread out on the table.

Harvey stood in front of the stove, wearing one of Aunt Zoe’s Betty Boop aprons while stirring something in a saucepan. He looked over at me, his gaze homing in on my face. “Somethin’ go sour on the cob at work?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“You look mad enough to argue with a fence post.”

That pretty much summed it up, but I didn’t feel like whining to Harvey about the can of worms Jerry had dumped over my head today. “Is Aunt Zoe still here?” I deflected, hanging my purse on the back of a kitchen chair.

He pointed the wooden spoon he was using at the ceiling. “She’s fillin’ up her saddle bags for her big shindig.”

I leaned over the saucepan, breathing in a fruity smell. I’d expected BBQ sauce, not something orange colored and sweet. I reached out to stick my finger in it and see what it tasted like.

Harvey smacked away my hand. “Don’t even think about it, girl.”

“What is it?”

“My momma’s famous apricot sauce.”

I licked my lips. “It smells delicious. I just want a taste.”

“It’s for the pork chops, not yer finger.” He hip-bumped me away from the stove. “Go wash up for supper.”

Okay, but first I wanted to change into something that had no waistband. At the top of the stairs, I slipped off my right shoe, kicking it through my open bedroom door. It almost hit Aunt Zoe, who was sitting on my bed with her luggage at her feet. I limped into my room wondering what was going on.

She looked beautiful in the soft lamp light radiating from my nightstand with her long, silver-streaked hair tied back. Her sapphire sweater and a scarlet bohemian skirt matched her personality—vibrant and a little wild.

“What are you still doing home?” I asked, leaning against my dresser. “I thought you were leaving this afternoon.”

“My co-traveler had an emergency and needed to hold off leaving for a few hours. He should be here soon.”

“If you leave now, you won’t make it into Denver until the middle of the night.”

“That’s fine. We’d planned on spending the first night at his condo anyway. We’ll check into the hotel tomorrow.”

“You’re staying at
his
condo?” I put my hands on my hips. “Is this the guy you went on a couple of dates with last month?”

“One and the same.”

“The guy who looks a little like George Clooney.”

She nodded.

“The one who you didn’t want to get involved with because he’s in the process of getting a divorce?”

“Yes, dear. That’s him. Would you like me to draw you a picture?”

If he looked like Clooney, I’d rather she took a photo of him. But I hadn’t made my point yet. “And now you’re going down to Denver with him AND spending the night at his condo.”

“It’s a two-bedroom.”

“Are you sharing a hotel room with him, too?”

She shrugged. “It’s cheaper that way. Those rooms are a couple hundred a night, and we’ll be staying there through Saturday.”

“Is there one bed or two?”

Aunt Zoe chuckled. “You’re my niece, not my mother.”

“This is a bad idea. You could get hurt again.”

That wiped the smile from her lips. “Not possible. I have my heart all tucked away safe and sound. I’m done with letting it rule me.”

I didn’t completely believe that. I’d seen how fiery she got when a certain fire captain came knocking. There were no old flames being doused when the two of them circled and growled, and a lot of smoldering going on when they were apart.

“If it makes you feel better, the room has two queen beds. Besides, it’s strictly platonic and he knows it.”

“I still don’t like it.” I knew Aunt Zoe was a big girl, but I was really partial to that certain fire captain, and I sort of had this ‘happily-ever-after’ fantasy for Aunt Zoe and him that I didn’t want some glass maker with a condo in Denver to screw up.

“You’re one to talk about risky heart ventures, Violet Lynn Parker.”

Boy, oh boy. She had me there.

Aunt Zoe patted the bed next to her. “Now quit lecturing me and sit.” After I joined her on the bed, she squeezed my hand. “Your eyes are bloodshot and your makeup is smudged in some spots and completely wiped off in others. What happened at work today?”

My aunt knew me way too well. I flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. “The television people are coming a week earlier than planned.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re anxious to get rolling and Jerry has them all primed for Ben and me to take them around to some of the local haunted houses.”

Aunt Zoe snorted. “Your boss is a horse’s patooty.”

She’d had her dander up about Jerry since that first week when he’d walked into the office and declared that I needed a makeover. Her bra-burning feelers had gotten bent out of shape about the gobs of makeup, fake eyelashes, and new clothes he’d invested in on my account. The huge billboard out on Interstate 90 showcasing me as a floozy version of June Cleaver had stirred up the bees in her bonnet only more.

“But that’s not the worst of it,” I continued. “Jerry has decided that Ray has to go along with whoever the camera crew is working with each day to supervise and make sure Calamity Jane isn’t shown in a bad light.”

She scoffed. “What part of being on one of those reality television shows is putting Jerry’s business in a good light? They’re going to want some drama, and drama equals negative publicity.”

“Jerry is a firm believer that there’s no such thing as negative publicity.”

Coming from the world of professional basketball had skewed his view of publicity in my opinion. He had a THINK BIGGER sign on his desk. At six foot eight with shoulders that barely fit through doorways, he’d really taken that saying to heart. What he didn’t understand was that some of us liked being smaller, wanted to make a decent living and that was it, not reach world-wide fame.

“Yeah, well he’s an idiot when it comes to you.” Aunt Zoe leaned over and tucked some of my curls behind my ear like she had when I’d come to her crying as a kid. “I don’t appreciate one iota how he’s using my darling niece in his over-the-top marketing schemes.”

“Thank you.” I caught her hand, holding it against my cheek. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

Her smile made her look even prettier. “Have you tried that apricot sauce Harvey’s got on the stove? That should make you feel absolutely wonderful.”

“Not yet.” I sat upright. “He sent me away to get cleaned up for supper first.”

She looked me over. “You look pretty clean to me, kiddo.” Then she leaned over and dropped a quick kiss on my temple. “When I get home from Denver, you and I need to talk about you know what.”

I groaned. “Can’t we just put it in a capsule and bury it in the backyard to dig up some time far off in the future?”

“You can’t skirt your responsibilities, Violet.” Her voice was soft but firm. “You know that’s true deep down in here.” She poked my chest above my heart.