Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) (7 page)

“I have plenty of responsibilities already wrapped up in those two kids who are yelling at each other as we speak.”

Apparently Addy was hogging the bathroom again and Layne needed to pee. As I listened, the hollering and pounding grew louder. “Crap. I need to go play referee before they break down your bathroom door.”

“There’s a saying, ‘You cannot find peace by avoiding life.’”

“Yeah, well here’s an old Polish proverb that Nat likes to quote, ‘Not my circus. Not my monkeys.’ Coming from a long line of killers is
not
my circus.”

“I’M TELLING MOM YOU’RE USING HER PERFUME TO MAKE ELVIS SMELL BETTER, YOU BIG BUTTHOLE!” Layne screamed at the top of his lungs.

Dammit, that perfume was not cheap.

I pushed to my feet, frowning down at Aunt Zoe. “However, those two primates out there screeching at each other are my monkeys.”

“You better go before they start flinging poo at each other.” She pushed my butt, shoving me toward the door.

“Layne,” I hollered down to where he stood pounding non-stop on the bathroom door, “use the one downstairs, for heaven’s sake.”

He hit the door one last time before stomping toward the stairs behind me. He glowered up at me as he neared. “But my science experiment is in there.”

Oh, hell. What was the mad scientist up to now? I shook my head. I didn’t really want to know.

As he passed by me, I noticed a red mark on his cheek. “Hold up, buster.” I caught his arm and swung him around, taking hold of his chin. “What’s this?” I gently touched the angry looking scratch that appeared to be bruising around the edges. “Did your sister do this to you?”

My kids sometimes played rough with each other. Other times they just hauled off and started hitting, especially when I wasn’t there to string them up by their tennis shoes.

“No.” He pulled out of my grip, looking down. “I fell.”

“Did you scrape up your hands, too?”

He stepped back. “I’m fine, Mom. Don’t cry about it. I fell down, that’s all.” He turned his back on me and raced down the stairs.

I stood grimacing after him. Ever since I’d announced that Doc was my official boyfriend, my kids had been giving me the cold shoulder. Addy had wanted me to marry and have babies with her best friend’s almost-divorced father, Jeff Wymonds. Layne had liked being the only man of the house and now was certain I was going to kick him out onto the street. No matter how much I tried to explain to both kids the illogical directions of their thinking, neither were budging.

The doorbell rang.

“Layne, get the door,” I called down the stairs.

“I’m in the bathroom,” he yelled back and slammed the bathroom door.

“My what wonderful, loving children I have,” I grumbled, heading downstairs to get the door myself. “The Von Trapps would be so envious.”

“That’s probably my ride,” Aunt Zoe said from behind me at the top of the stairs. “I’ll go grab my purse.”

When I opened the door, it wasn’t a Clooney look alike. Instead he looked more like Sam Elliott.

“Reid!” I stepped back in surprise.

“Hey, Sparky.” Reid Martin, Deadwood’s fire captain and Aunt Zoe’s red-hot ex, stood on the front porch. He’d started using the ‘Sparky’ nickname for me after my Bronco had been lit on fire and died a hot and smoky death. “Can I come in? I need to talk to your aunt.”

I nodded, opening the screen door for him.

“Her shotgun isn’t within reach, is it?” he asked, shutting out the cold behind him.

Before I could answer, I heard Aunt Zoe’s footfalls clomping down the stairs behind me. I turned with a wince. “Look, Aunt Zoe. Reid stopped by to see you off.”

Her cheeks darkened with each step down, her glare searing our visitor. It was a good thing Reid was used to working around heat. He should’ve brought his firefighter suit to be safe.

“What are you doing here?” she bit out when she joined us in front of the door, dropping her luggage and purse at her feet.

“It’s like Sparky said,” he eyed Aunt Zoe from top to bottom. “I came to say goodbye. I like that color on you.”

“Who told you I was going anywhere?” She shot a squint in my direction.

“Not me.” I held up my hands. “I swear.”

“Sparky’s innocent. Although Coop would probably disagree.” The wink he sent me made me wonder if Detective Cooper had told him about the body in the safe. “Zo, it’s no secret that you’ve been attending this conference in late October for years.”

“True, but how did you know that I was leaving for it tonight?”

That was a good question considering she was supposed to have been out the door hours ago.

“That’s not important.” He jammed his hands into his tan coat pockets, shuffling his boot heels on the wooden floor. “I hear you’re not going down alone this year.”

She crossed her arms in response.

“You should have told me. I’d have taken time off work and driven you down.”

“Humph!” She lifted her chin. “I’d sooner hitchhike.”

“Liar.” He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye and then looked toward the kitchen.

That was my hint to give them a moment alone.

Aunt Zoe must have caught his signal, too, because she latched onto my arm. “You stay right here.”

Not this again. I’d had to witness Reid’s heart getting stomped on by her a few weeks ago when he had set up a romantic evening for them out in the forest, and she had dragged me along. This time I didn’t have a glass of wine to hide behind.

“So who’s riding down with you?” Reid asked.

“It’s not your business.”

“Humor me, Zo.”

Aunt Zoe shrugged. “A good friend. He owns a couple of local art galleries.”

“Are you only riding down with him or is there more?”

“We’re rooming together.”

Reid’s jaw tightened. He looked toward the door, nodding. I doubted that he agreed with her choice, though.

“I don’t like it,” he said, confirming my suspicion.

“It’s not up to you to like.”

His focus snapped back to her face, his gaze piercing. “Maybe not, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling it.”

The doorbell rang.

Uh oh. Was that her ride? How would Reid react to him face-to-face? Would there be some kind of brawl? I took a step back, pulling free of Aunt Zoe’s grip.

She bumped Reid aside and opened the door.

“Hey, Zoe,” Doc’s voice came through the screen. “I thought you were on your way to Denver.”

“I will be shortly. Come on in.”

I barely gave Doc time to make it over the threshold. Grabbing him by the hand, I towed him up the stairs. “Come with me, I need to show you something in my bedroom.”

“Your bedroom?”

At the top of the stairs, I nudged him toward my room.

He pulled me inside with him and stole a kiss. Well, considering how easily I gave it to him, there wasn’t much thievery involved.

When Doc pulled back, his dark gaze searched my face, a frown building on his brow. “You seemed off when I called you earlier, and now that I’ve gotten a good look at you, I’d guess you had a bad day. What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in later,” I whispered and then held my index finger to my lips. Slipping out of his arms, I tiptoed back into the hallway.

As I approached the top of the stairs, I heard Aunt Zoe say, “You need to leave. My ride will be here soon.”

Then I heard the front door open and peeked around the corner. Aunt Zoe was holding the door wide.

Reid took a step toward her. “If you get into a bind, call me. I’ll drive straight down and get you.”

“You don’t need to rescue me. I can handle men.”

“Really, Zo?” he grabbed Aunt Zoe by the shoulders. “Then handle this.” He kissed her, slow and cautious, like he was stepping into a flame-filled building. I could feel the heat from it clear up at the top of the steps. When she grabbed onto the lapels of his coat and pressed against him, my jaw unhinged.

A scuffling sound made me step back from the peep show. I looked around. Doc was leaning against my door jamb, watching me with one raised eyebrow.

“Now I see why Coop has such a problem with your nose,” he said quietly, grinning.

I wrinkled said facial feature at him.

I heard the screen door creak and then slam down below. When I peeked around the wall again, Aunt Zoe stood alone, staring out into the twilight.

No sooner had the rumble of Reid’s diesel truck faded when I heard the crunch of gravel in the drive.

Aunt Zoe lifted her purse and luggage. “Violet.” She turned, looking up at where I stood on the top step.

I searched her face for any sadness or anger, but her straight face left me clueless. “Are you leaving now?”

“Yes. I’ll call you when I get up tomorrow morning.”

“You doing okay?” I probed, which could be translated as: Did Reid’s kiss spark some old flames back to life?

“I’m fine. But in case anyone is wondering if anything has changed, it hasn’t.”

Hmmm. That lip lock a few moments ago hinted at a different ending.

After blowing me a kiss, she shouldered her way out through the screen door and left.

Harvey came from the kitchen and closed the door behind her. He smiled up at me. “Methinks the shrew doth protest too much,” he said, jumbling his Shakespeare.

“Reid is certainly not giving up without a fight,” Doc said, joining me on the stairs.

“You think he still believes he has a chance?”

“I know so. He told me as much the other night during poker at Cooper’s place.”

A series of strangled-sounding clucks followed by a loud squawk came from behind us.

“What in the hell was that?” I asked Doc.

He pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “It came from your bedroom.”

I followed him back into the room. We stood there next to my bed, listening. A thump came from my closet.

“It’s in there,” I whispered.

Doc eased across the room. I followed on his heels, leaning into him as he reached for the door and slid it open.

An even louder squawk made me jump back.

Elvis, my daughter’s chicken, flapped around in the bottom of my closet, working herself into a feather-flying frenzy. Then she half-flew out of my closet and ran out the door and down the hallway.

I watched her go, struck silent by it all.

“That was unexpected,” Doc said, plucking a feather from my hair.

I looked in my closet, taking in all of the feathers—covering my shoes, sticking to my clothes, floating around us. “Criminy! How long had she been in there?”

Doc bent down and withdrew something from the inside of one of my suede ankle boots. “Apparently, long enough to leave you a little present.” He dropped his find in my palm.

I glared down at the warm egg. “I’m gonna kill that damned chicken.”

I heard the bathroom door open down the hall.
Addy!

“Adelynn Renee, freeze!” Shoving the egg back at Doc, I stormed into the hall. “That’s it! Elvis is leaving the building … for good!”

Chapter Four

Tuesday, October 23rd

Meanwhile, back in Elvis’s Graceland …

The next morning dawned silent and rippling with tension. The verdict was in—I was officially the worst mother of the year. Neither of my darling children would speak to me at the breakfast table, directing all of their answers to my questions through Natalie, who’d crashed overnight in Aunt Zoe’s room. She couldn’t quite shake her skittishness from finding the dead guy out at Harvey’s place.

I pointed my coffee cup at my stone-faced daughter. “Did you put Elvis in the basement like I told you to after she took her morning constitution outside?”

Addy turned to Natalie. “Tell my mean mom that
my
chicken is locked up in her prison cell downstairs.”

Natalie couldn’t hold in her grin when she looked at me. “Miss Adelynn would like to relay to the
Hard-Headed Woman
at the table that Elvis is doing the
Jailhouse Rock
today.”

Addy tapped Natalie’s arm. “And let her know that Elvis loves her, and that’s why she laid an egg in her boot.”

“Miss Adelynn would like to add that you should not get
All Shook Up
about one egg because Elvis is really
Stuck on You
.”

“And tell her,” Addy said through a mouth full of cereal, “that I am not taking Elvis back to that horrible place where I got her no matter how much my mean mom yells at me.”

“Miss Adelynn wants me to tell you that she will not
Surrender
Elvis back to the
Heartbreak Hotel
.”

“Elvis is my best pet ever. If she goes, I go.”

Natalie’s eyes positively twinkled as she picked up her coffee mug. “Miss Adelynn feels that her chicken is
A Big Hunk ‘O Love
, and declares
Don’t Be Cruel
to Elvis or they’ll both leave.”

I cocked my head at Natalie. “Are you done, knucklehead?”

She looked at Addy. “Are we done, Miss Adelynn?”

“Whatever.” Addy pushed back from the table, her lips locked up tight as she placed her dish in the sink and then stomped out of the kitchen.

Back to the silent treatment. That was fine with me.

“My overall interpretation is that your daughter still feels you’re the
Devil in Disguise
.”

I tossed my spoon into my cereal bowl. “You’re a real Groucho Marx this morning.”

“You know Harpo’s my favorite. I love that curly hair. He reminds me of you.”

“Was Elvis serenading you in your dreams again or what?”

“I was really on a roll there, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, you’re definitely on something this morning.” I stared across the table at Layne, who was slurping the last of the milk in his bowl. The bruise on his cheek had turned dark blueish purple. I worried my lower lip. “Layne, did your teacher see that bruise on your cheek yesterday?”

He shrugged.

“Did she ask you about it?”

He shrugged again.

My pool of patience evaporated like a mud puddle in Death Valley. “Darn it, Layne. Stop shrugging and—”

Aunt Zoe’s phone rang, interrupting my rant.

According to the Betty Boop clock over the kitchen sink, we had fifteen minutes until it was time to head to school. Whoever was calling had better make it quick.