Optical Delusions in Deadwood (36 page)

      “No. I’ll be an old man by then. Later as in tonight, when you’re alone. You know my number.”

      I stepped back from the car. “So does the librarian.”

      “Yeah, but she doesn’t
have
my number.” He put on his sunglasses and rolled away, leaving me behind with reality.

      I gave wide berth to the dirty green truck, which supported its own colony of flies and reeked as if it had been rolling around in a horse stall. Its cloud of dirt reminded me of Pigpen from those old Charlie Brown holiday cartoons.

      Aunt Zoe greeted me on the front porch steps with a worried scowl and a much-needed bear hug. “Harvey told me the news. Are you okay?”

      “Yeah, but I’m really starting to hate the sight of firemen, and that’s a damned shame.”

      “Join the club,” she muttered and led me into the house, her arm around my shoulders.

      The aroma of fresh-baked brownies made me smile. Ah, home sweet home. I picked up a balled sock and a purple flip-flop from the floor and tossed them in the basket of shoes next to the front door. “Where are the kids?”

      “In the backyard making bonnets for Miss Elvis.”

      “Chicken bonnets?”

      “Addy is worried about her chicken getting skin cancer.”

      “Of course she is.” Addy’s craziness about animals must come from her father’s bloodline.

      I found Harvey sitting at the kitchen table, a brownie in his hand and another stuffed in his cheeks. “Hey, Sparky!” The brownie muffled his shout. “Sounds like you found yourself in another hot spot this mornin’.”

      I just shook my head and reached for a brownie to cram into my mouth. I dropped into the chair opposite him. “Where’s your Chevy?” Had somebody messed with his truck, too?

      “At home. I brought you some new wheels.”

      I’d been too distracted by Pigpen’s aura to notice another set of tires in the pickup bed. “You shouldn’t have. I already owe you two.” I hope he kept the receipt.

      “Forget about that.” He slid a set of keys across the table.

      I frowned down at the yellow smiley-face keychain. “What’s this?”

      “The keys to the Picklemobile.”

      Aunt Zoe placed a glass of lemonade, on the rocks, under my nose. I could have showered her with kisses.

      “The Picklemobile?”

      “My old truck out front.”

      He was going to let me borrow Pigpen? Oh, that’s what he meant by wheels. It was really sweet of the old buzzard, but I didn’t think my reputation could handle the added stink. I pushed the keys back toward him. “Thanks, Harvey. That’s very kind of you to offer, but I can’t.”

      “If this is about her looks, most of that shit will wash right off her. She’s just been sittin’ in the barn for the last few days.”

      That explained the smell. “It’s not that. I don’t want to risk losing another vehicle until Cooper catches whoever is behind this.”

      He grunted and stuffed the keys in his pocket. “You know where to find her if you need her.”

      Aunt Zoe joined us at the table with her coffee cup. “What are we going to do?” she asked.

      “You two aren’t going to do anything. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

      She squeezed my hand. “Honey, I love you, but shut up. We’re here to help. Now, you can either take our help willingly, or we can twist your arm until you relent. What’s it going to be?”

      “I’m hoping for a struggle,” Harvey said, cracking his knuckles.

      I looked from her smiling eyes to Harvey’s crumb-crusted smirk. “Fine. But if anything happens to you two—”

      Harvey snorted. “Girl, we’ve been gettin’ in and outta trouble since you were still pissin’ in your britches. Now, what’s the plan?”

      I took a bite of brownie, wallowing momentarily in the warm chocolate goo, feeling a little lost at sea. “I don’t really have one yet, but I want to get Addy and Layne out of here. You haven’t told Dad yet, have you?” I asked Aunt Zoe.

      She shook her head. “I know my brother when it comes to you and the kids. Just the mention of a splinter and he’ll come racing up the mountain with tweezers.”

      “Good. I’ll send Addy and Layne down there for a mini-vacation. We can let everyone think it’s one last hurrah before school starts.”

      “Addy isn’t going to like leaving Kelly or her chicken.”

      “Yeah, well, absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

      Harvey’s smirk spread wider. “That’s exactly what I tell my ol’ flames.”

      “You know, Harvey,” I settled back into the kitchen chair, relaxing in the lemony cocoon of Aunt Zoe’s kitchen, and smiled at the codger. “I don’t understand what these flames see in your ornery ass.”

      “I find ‘em hot and leave ‘em wet.”

      “The firefighter’s motto,” Aunt Zoe said, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “I haven’t heard that one in years.”

      That reminded me of a certain fire captain and his inquiry. “I ran into Reid this morning,” I threw out to Aunt Zoe with pretend nonchalance, peeking at her as I broke off another piece of brownie and shoved it into my mouth.

      Her cheeks grew pink. “Reid who?”

      “Reid, the captain of the fire department.”

      “Now there’s a salty dog,” Harvey said. “I could take some lessons from him.”

      I shushed Harvey with my glare. “He asked about you,” I told Aunt Zoe.

      “Did he, now?” Her chair scraped on the linoleum. She strolled over to the sink, dumping her coffee into it. “I can’t imagine why.”

      “I mentioned you were single again.”

      She whirled around, her eyes wide. “Violet!”

      “What? You are.”

      “But Reid doesn’t need to know that.”

      “Why not?” I glanced at Harvey, who was watching with squinty eyes. “Reid seems really nice.”

      “That man is nothing but trouble.”

      “He’s a fireman.”

      “All the more reason to avoid him.”

      “He’s got a nice ass,” Harvey threw in, earning raised brows from both Aunt Zoe and me. “What? Just because I say that doesn’t mean I want to pinch it.”

      “Harvey has a point—about Reid’s body, that is.”

      Aunt Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

      “You shouldn’t keep these things bottled up,” I pressed.

      Her eyes narrowed. “Really, Miss Do-As-I-Say? Then why don’t you explain to me why your black funeral dress smells like men’s cologne?”

      The chicken got my tongue. I stuffed the rest of the brownie into my mouth while I waited for her to waver. When she didn’t, I said, “It’s probably just George Mudder’s cologne. He’s kind of touchy-feely.”

      “I know George’s cologne. He’s been a peppermint Aqua Velva man for decades. This is something else.”

      Harvey snickered, earning him another
zip it
look from me. The old buzzard wasn’t helping one bit. I gulped down the ball of brownie in my throat. “Ummm ... It must have been that guy I danced with at the Purple Door Saloon.”

      “You said you spent the night consoling Natalie.”

      Harvey nudged me under the table. “She doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”

      “She’s a regular Miss Marple.”

      Aunt Zoe crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, young lady?”

      “I plead the Fifth.”

      “Was that Doc Nyce who dropped you off a bit ago?”

      Stuck on that one, I nodded and hid behind my glass of lemonade.

      “One of these days you’ll have to introduce him to me.”

      “Doc’s super busy. He’s hard to catch.”

      Her head cocked to the side. “Really? You seem to have done a good job of snaring him.”

      “He’s just a client.”

      “Suzy Sherman said she saw you driving a fancy black Camaro around town yesterday.”

     
Son of a peacock!
I told Doc that driving his car was a bad idea. “Suzy must have confused some blonde tourist for me. You know how thick her glasses are.”

      Aunt Zoe eyed Harvey. “Have you seen any other fancy black Camaros in town lately?”

      I nailed him with my gunslinger glare. 

      He shrugged and stuffed two more brownies in his mouth.

      “Willis”—Aunt Zoe’s tone had a ring of threat to it—“cough up what you know, or the brownie and cookie supply will dry up.”

      Harvey froze mid-chew.

      The doorbell rang.

      “I’ll get that,” Harvey mumbled and skedaddled out of the room, breaking up the showdown.

      I avoided Aunt Zoe’s gaze and changed the subject. “I’m worried about your gallery.”

      “What about it?”

      “What if whoever is pissed at me takes it out on your store?”

      She strolled over and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry about me. I’m covered. You, on the other hand, appear to be a sitting duck. You can use my pickup to get around town until we can find you another vehicle.”

      “No way.”

      “Violet, don’t be stubborn. Just use it.”

      “I’m not. I meant what I told Harvey. Until we figure out who is behind this, I don’t want to risk anyone else’s vehicle.” I rested my head on the table the way I used to during kindergarten naptime. “What a nightmare.”

      Aunt Zoe rubbed my back. “You seem to be full of them lately. I wish you’d consider seeing a therapist about all of this.”

      “I am, right now.”

      “I’m afraid I’m not much help.”

      “You are. More than you know.” The backrub alone was worth the cost of a professional consultation. And the brownies made great sedatives.

      “Violet, what’s going on with you and—”

      “Look who’s here,” Harvey interrupted, strolling into the kitchen, sporting a banana-wide grin.

      I heard Aunt Zoe’s intake of breath as Fire Captain Reid waltzed in. This time, his suspenders were gone, replaced by faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt. 

      “I smelled a fire,” Reid said, laughter in his voice. “So I thought I’d look for you first this time.” He aimed his comment at me, but he had Aunt Zoe in his sights.

      I didn’t know what to say, so I just gaped at him, mimicking Aunt Zoe.

      “Hey, Zo.” He shortened her already short name. “It’s been a while.”

      “Yes,” Aunt Zoe squeezed her hands together and kept her smile shallow, barely bending her lips. “It sure has.” Then she snapped back into hostess mode. “Can I get you something to drink?”

      Reid hooked his thumbs in his pockets. “I’d love some of that lemonade you always keep in the fridge.”

      He knew about Aunt Zoe’s lemonade? I traded raised brows with Harvey, who’d dropped back into his seat, front and center for the Zoe and Reid show.

      “So, Reid,” Aunt Zoe said as she poured a glass. “What brings you to my doorstep?”

      “Your niece.”

      I piped up. “I have an alibi.”

      Reid’s deep laughter filled the silence. “I like you, Violet. You remind me of another spunky girl.”

      I didn’t miss the look that passed between him and Aunt Zoe. What it meant, I had no idea, but I filed it away to bring up later over more brownies.

      Reid took the glass she offered. “Thanks.”

      “You’re welcome.” Aunt Zoe returned to the counter—keeping the width of the kitchen between her and Reid, I noticed. “Is this about Violet’s Bronco or the Hessler house?”

      “The former. I’m putting the finishing touches on my report and need to ask Violet something.”

      “Boy, you’re not wasting time on this one,” Aunt Zoe said.

      My chin whipped back and forth between the two of them as if I were straddling the centerline at Wimbledon.

      “Coop’s all buggered up about this one. He’s called me three times since lunch, asking if I had it ready.”

      Why was Cooper so antsy about it? Did he know something? Did he have a suspect already? “What’s the question?” I asked.

      Reid dug in his back pocket and tossed a small plastic sandwich bag on the table with an opened book of matches inside it. I picked up the bag and read the label on the matches—
Charles’ Club
. Aunt Zoe came up behind me, peering over my shoulder.

      “We found that about fifteen feet from your Bronco in the scrub brush bordering the lot,” Reid said. “Do you recognize it?”

      “Don’t answer that, Violet.” Aunt Zoe took the book of matches from me. “Reid, this could belong to anyone. Surely you don’t think Violet burned up her own car?”

      “Of course not.” Reid focused on me. “Have you been to Charles’ Club lately?”

      “Reid,” Aunt Zoe’s voice hardened, her mother-bear side coming out of hibernation. “What exactly are you getting at here?”

      Reid’s gaze turned steely. “Zo, relax. I’m not attacking Violet. I’m just trying to narrow down whether the arsonist used a match from this book to start the fire.”

      I took the plastic bag back from Aunt Zoe. “How do you know this isn’t just random litter?”

      “There is no sign of weathering.”

      True. The cover was still glossy. Flipping it over, I noticed that the strip on the back looked barely used.

      “There are two matches missing from that book,” Reid continued. “I found what I believe is one of those two matches when I first arrived on scene. If these matches were used to start the fire, Cooper and I have a place to start searching.”

      “This is like findin’ a baby dung beetle in a pile of elephant shit,” Harvey pointed out.

      “Yeah. Welcome to my job.”

      I handed the bag back to Reid. “They aren’t mine, but I was at Charles’ Club two nights ago.”

      Reid’s focus honed in on me, reminding me of Cooper in the heat of interrogation. “Who was there with you?”

      “I met Douglas Mann for dinner. He’s interested in buying the Carhart house.”

      “Really?” Reid asked, leaning back on his heels. “How many houses does that man need?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Never mind. Who else was there?”

      “Well, there were a lot of people there that night.”