Optical Delusions in Deadwood (33 page)

      I glanced down at the objects of discussion. “What about my knees?”

      “Uncle Willis has a thing for knobby knees.”

      “Harvey has a thing for anything in a skirt most days, and my knees are not knobby.”

      “If you say so. I’m more interested in your head, and I’m not talking about your crazy hair.”

     
Crazy hair?
I patted my loose curls. I hadn’t battened them down this morning, since seducing Doc had been the first item on my docket. God, was that just this morning? The whole weight of losing my Bronco and what that meant fell into my lap again, sobering me, provoking an ache in my chest. My ability to banter fizzled.

      “Listen,
Coop
,” I crossed my arms and knobby knees and glared at the detective. “My Bronco just burned to the ground, so I’m a little distracted by the sudden financial mess I’m in, not to mention what this means to the safety of my family.” That thought alone chilled me. “Just because my roots really are blonde doesn’t mean my I.Q. is subpar, so stop treating me like I’m some ditz and tell me why you dragged me in here.”

      “Fair enough.” He steepled his fingers and stared at me over the top of them. “Tell me what you know about Wanda Carhart.”

     
Wanda?
I frowned, surprised. I’d thought he was going to ask about my Bronco’s unfortunate demise. I ground mental gears and focused on Wanda, but all that came to mind was her kookiness about those damned missing ice trays. “She’s very timid.”

      “I’ve noticed.” His gray eyes didn’t blink. “Why do you think she wants to sell the house?”

      “I don’t know that she does. Millie has been more interested in the details of the sale.” Millie
and Lila
, that was. “Wanda just signs the documents.”

      “You mentioned before that Millie seemed anxious to get out of town. Has she said where she intends to go?”

      “No, but we’re not exactly pals.”

      “What do you know about Lila Beaumont?”

      It took me several seconds to filter through all the derogatory comments that popped into my mind. “She’s wily,” I said, my lip curling of its own accord.

      “Not a fan, huh?”

      “She and I haven’t hit it off yet.” I wasn’t holding my breath, either. I’d sooner just suffocate her instead.

      “Any particular reason?”

      “Not really. Just a mutual loathe-at-first-sight type of thing.” I thought about my brief history with Lila, then added, “I think she sees me as a threat.”

      Cooper’s brow wrinkled. “In what way?”

      “Maybe to her relationship with Millie, somehow.”

      “Relationship? Are you referring to her being engaged to Millie’s brother?”

      Had Harvey not told Cooper about the kiss? “I’m referring to the relationship going on between Millie and Lila.”

      His head cocked slightly. “Between them? You mean something is going on behind closed doors?”

      They were outside under the big blue sky when I saw them, but, “Yes.”

      “You’re sure about this?” His eyes narrowed.

      “Positive.”

      “Interesting.” He leaned back in his chair. “That would explain a couple of things.”

      It was my turn to ask a question or two. “Why are you asking me about the Carharts? Is this about the murder?”

      “I’m not at liberty to talk about it.”

      “But I thought you said the case was closed.”

      “I might have said that, but it’s not, officially. Yet.”

      I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “Do you think someone else killed Junior’s dad?”

      Cooper stared at me as the clock on the wall ticked, his expression about as transparent as a bowling ball. “I’m not at liberty to talk about it.”

      “What are you at liberty to tell me?”

      “That you should be a little more careful when you’re out and about.” He frowned. “And at home.”

      “Thanks. That’s so reassuring and helpful.”

      “It’s not my job to make you feel all warm and fuzzy.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me about your Bronco. Uncle Willis mentioned you were having some troubles with vandalism.”

      I figured that Harvey had already given Cooper the details, so I kept it short and sweet. “Someone carved ‘SLUT’ into the driver’s-side door, and then they knifed two of my tires.” Which reminded me that I now owed Harvey a couple of tires. Shit.

      “I’m going to need you to write an official statement.”

      “Fine.”

      “Do you have any idea who might be harboring ill will toward you?”

      “Enough to play with matches next to my Bronco? No,” I lied. Until I had some more proof the vandal was the mistress of my newest buying client, I didn’t want to go pointing fingers. A pyromaniac accusation might cause a crimp in the sale of the house.

      “We don’t know for certain that this is an arson case.”

      “How else do you explain my Bronco being torched?”

      “It was an old vehicle. There could have been some electrical malfunction.” 

      “Come on, you and I both know that’s not the case. Somebody is messing with me.” I was pretty positive I knew who, but the “why” part still had me stumped.

      “I won’t know anything for certain until I hear more from Reid.”

      “Fine.” I stood, unwilling to be grilled any more today. I had a charred vehicle to lay to rest, a couple of frustrating phone calls to make, and an offer to deliver to a client—somehow, even if I had to hitchhike there. “Are we done here?”

      “For now. I’ll be in touch,” he said to my back.

      “I’ll be waiting with bated breath.”

      His laughter followed me down the hall. At the front desk, Doc leaned against the tall counter, talking to the desk officer. He stood up straight as I approached, his gaze searching. “You okay?”

      I kept walking and headed for the entrance. “I’ve been better.”

      He beat me to the glass doors, holding one open for me, and then followed me out into the warm, late-morning sunshine. “I need to talk to you, Violet.”

      I didn’t much feel like chatting. Drinking, maybe. Curling up into a ball under my covers, definitely. “Can it wait?”

      “No.”

      “I have to take care of my Bronco.”

      “The tow truck driver already did that for you.” He grasped my shoulders and steered me toward his car. “Trust me, this is important.”

      I trusted him under one condition. He honored it by stopping in front of Calamity Jane’s long enough for me to run inside and grab my purse and the official offer I’d typed up for Douglas. I told Mona I’d fill her in on everything later, then joined Doc again in the front seat of his Camaro, wondering where we were going.

      Several blocks later, he pulled into the library and cut the engine. There was my answer.

      “Come on.” He held my door open for me. I trailed him up the stairs, through the front doors, and across the wood floor toward the South Dakota room. The usual smell of varnish and musty books was mixed with a hint of lemon today. Someone must have found the furniture polish.

      Doc’s greeting to the library matriarch earned him a starched smile in return. She seemed to be warming up to him. Maybe I should have him inform her that Layne wouldn’t be returning those burned books anytime soon; maybe she’d forget about fining me.

      He waited for me to cross the threshold and then closed the door behind me.

      “Doc,” I turned toward him and crossed my arms over my chest, “I really don’t have time for—”

      He grabbed me by the upper arms, whisked me around, and pressed me up against the wall next to the door.

      “—this,” I finished, much less stiffly.

      His mouth came down on mine, hard, almost painful. I opened my lips under his ambush only to have him tear away from me and step back. His fingers tore through his hair. “You scared the hell out of me, Violet.”

      “I did?”

      “I saw what was left of your Bronco, but I didn’t see you.” His gaze bore into mine. “Why didn’t you go to the police?”

      “What are you talking about?” I touched my bottom lip, which still throbbed from his fierce kiss. I checked for the taste of blood, but my tongue found no trace. “You just found me at the police station, remember?”

      “I mean yesterday, after your tires were knifed.”

      “What good would it have done?” I had no more answers about
who
and
why
then, than I did now.

      “It might have saved your car from being burned up.”

      “Detective Cooper says it might not be arson. It could have been old wiring.”

      “Right. It also could have been a meteor that just happened to crash into your Bronco.” His forehead furrowed. “You know better, though, don’t you?”

      “Well, I’d sure like to believe him, but ...”

      “Exactly. What are you going to do now?” He watched me with an intensity that matched the level Cooper had shown just a short time ago. 

      Sighing, I leaned my head back against the wall, a dull throbbing building at the base of my neck. “Buy a lotto ticket or hope to hell Layne digs up an old Wells Fargo strongbox in Aunt Zoe’s backyard soon.”

      “I can loan you some money.”

      “No!” That came out stronger than I meant it to. “I mean, no thanks. I don’t like owing my friends money.” Besides, I was already in debt to Harvey.

      “Friends?” His jaw tightened. “We’re not
just
friends, Violet.”

      What were we, then? Never mind. Now was not the time to get into that. “I don’t want to owe you money, Doc.”

      “Fine. Do you have insurance?”

      “Liability only.”

      “Of course.” He sounded annoyed. “You can use my car until you find something else.”

      “No, I can’t.”

      His eyes flashed. “Damn it, Violet. This is not the time to worry about keeping up appearances.”

      “That’s where you’re wrong.” I glared back. “It’s more important now than ever. Whoever did this is still out there, and who says they’re done? I’m not going to risk your car ending up incinerated, too.”

      Thunder clouds built over his brows. “How are you going to protect Addy and Layne?”

      I hadn’t had much chance to ponder that yet. Squeezing the back of my neck, I stretched my head to the side, trying to alleviate the throbs that were growing stronger every second, along with the rest of my problems. “I don’t know. I could send them to my parents’ for a week. Let them think it’s a little vacation before school starts, only one without me.”

      “Come here,” Doc said, hopping up to sit on the table and holding out his hand. I pushed off the wall. He turned me around when I drew near and pulled me back between his legs, then pushed my hair aside and massaged my shoulders and neck. “Sorry about your lip. Is it okay?”

      I licked it to double check. “Yes, but you’ll have to kiss it better later.”

      “I’ll do more than that.”

      I quivered inside at the thought of what that might mean. Under his touch, the tension was beginning to ebb. I let my head loll forward. “I could get used to this.”

      “Me, too.” His fingers kneaded a painful knot in the crook of my neck, making me wince and pull away from him slightly. “Get back here.” He pulled me even closer, the heat from his hands and body removing some of the chill from my situation. “What are you going to do about your aunt?”

      “She’s not going to budge. I’d have better luck wooing a prairie dog from its burrow with a rattlesnake’s tail.” I groaned and then tensed again as he found another knot. “I’ll talk to her,” I said between gasps, “explain what’s going on, and see what she wants to do.” She did have that shotgun in her bedroom closet.

      “I could sleep on her couch for a few nights, keep an eye on you.”

      “You and I both know how that would end up.” With Doc in my bed.

      His fingers stilled. “I can keep my hands to myself if you’re worried about that.”

      “It’s not your hands I’m worried about.” I looked up at him. “It’s mine. They have minds of their own when it comes to you.”

      His lazy grin appeared for just a second, before the dark clouds returned to his expression. “Have you considered that this may be a retaliation for you burning down Hessler’s house?”

      “Retaliation from whom? Wolfgang’s mom and sister are already dead.” Ghosts couldn’t start fires, could they? The reality of what I was pondering hit me, and I swallowed a bout of hysterical laughter. I couldn’t afford to lose it now.

      “I don’t know,” Doc answered. “An angry relative, an old girlfriend, some vengeful lover the cops don’t know about—who knows?”

      I let my head loll again and covered his hands with mine, squeezing, nudging him to continue. “I don’t want to think about Wolfgang right now.” It brought the nightmares too close to the surface.

      “Okay.” He squeezed the muscles at the back of my skull.

      My lids drooped, my eyes rolling up into my head.

      “Violet, let me help you.”

      “You already are.” His hands were working wonders; my headache was almost gone. “Plus, you’re buying a house from me.”

      “That’s not enough.”

      “Fine. Buy a vacation home in the country, too. I have the perfect listing. It’s owned by a crazy, shotgun-happy old buzzard.”

      He chuckled, but said, “I’m serious.”

      “Me, too. It has a graveyard behind the barn. You’d love that, I bet. Just ignore the creepy whangdoodle living out there.”

      His hands stopped. He turned me around, his gaze full of concern. “Are you okay?”

      The underlying care in his tone hit me like a punch to the chest. I swallowed a sudden lump and blinked back some stupid tears. “Fine and dandy, as usual.”

      His eyes narrowed at my fake grin. “I don’t believe you. You’re blowing a little too much smoke. Tell me. Honestly.”

      I took a deep breath. “Doc, if I don’t keep laughing, I’m going to start screaming. If that happens, I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop until I’ve torn out all of my hair. Then I’ll lose my children to state custody and wind up wrapped tight in a straightjacket, tucked away in a padded cell.”