“Don’t worry, Momma,” Addy said. “I’m going to live with you until you’re a little old woman.” She wrapped her gum around her finger, and then twirled the other end of it like a lasso.

  I knew my daughter meant well and loved her dearly, but that offered me no comfort at all. “Addy, put the gum in your mouth.”

  I hit my blinker and made a right into my parents’ neighborhood. “Layne, what does homeschooling have to do with me getting old and lonely?”

  “If you homeschool me, I would be home with you more.”

  “Have you forgotten that I work all day?”

  “I could make sure to take care of the house while you’re gone, do things like mow the lawn and take out the garbage.”

  “You already do those things.”

  “Yeah, but I’d do it for free—no allowance required. It’d be one of my regular jobs.”

  Oh, now I got it. “You mean you could act more like the man of the house.”

  “Sure, I guess.”

  I wasn’t buying his feigned innocence in that response. “Do you think that if you’re at school every day, I’ll find another man to take on that role?”

  He looked down at his book again. “Maybe.”

  I pulled to a stop in my parents’ drive. Addy scrambled over her brother, shoving her way out the door.

  “Hold on, Layne.” I waited until Addy was climbing Mom’s front steps and well out of earshot. “Look at me.”

  He did, his forehead pinched. “What?”

  “I’ll never replace you. Understand? You’re always going to be my favorite boy of all time in here.” I patted the left side of my chest. “If I were ever to fall in love with someone and want to get married,” and pigs started manning space shuttle flights to the moon, “you will still be my favorite boy of all time.”

  His frown didn’t waver. “You’ve never mentioned getting married before in that speech.”

  I hadn’t? “Oh, well, it just kind of popped in there as a possibility.”

  “That’s what concerns me, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, and then jumped to the ground and followed his sister into the house.

  My mother looked out the door and waved at me, then closed it. Guess I wasn’t invited in for cookies and milk.

  Shaking off Layne’s worries, I backed out of the drive and headed for the address on Jane’s Post-it note.

  Twenty minutes later, I parked in front of a boring, rectangular brick building, where I ended up spending the longest four hours of my life doodling in between taking notes for Jane. Three times I’d almost nodded off, and one time my forehead actually touched the tabletop. Turned out I’d found a non-chemical solution for insomnia.

  It was after dinnertime when I escaped to the Picklemobile. I growled at the setting sun, knowing the viewing at Mudder Brothers was going on as I stood there, a good hour away when figuring in the amount of time to go home and change into a funeral ensemble.

  Since there was no way I could make the viewing, I sat behind the steering wheel and checked my messages. The first was my mom telling me she was taking the kids to a movie and keeping them for the night; she’d drop them off at Aunt Zoe’s tomorrow.

  I thought of my sister and debated on insisting on bringing them home with me, but it was Monday night and Aunt Zoe was working at the gallery. If Mom kept the kids, I could sneak down to Mudder Brothers and maybe peek into their garage-turned-crematorium windows without worrying about finding a sitter for my kids.

  Decision made.

  The second message was from Harvey. He was in Deadwood and wondering what I was up to, hoping it was no good.

  The old bugger knew me too well.

  I thought about calling Harvey back and having him join me at Mudder Brothers, but then Cooper’s face popped into my thoughts. After Harvey’s and my last adventure at Mudder Brothers, the detective might be keeping tabs on his uncle as a means to watch me. Maybe that was just paranoia talking, but Harvey was a risk and I couldn’t take a chance on Cooper catching me. Like Jane, bright orange jumpsuits clashed with my skin tone and hair color.

  Instead, I called Natalie.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” she said. “How was the porch last night?”

  “I don’t remember. I slept like the dead.” Well, the dead that didn’t come back and haunt Deadwood.

  “Was I snoring that loud?”

  Not snoring, just mumbling. “I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t want to toss and turn and wake you.”

  “I could’ve bored you back to sleep with stories about my childhood.”

  “I’ve heard them all before and lived most of them with you.”

  “Well, you are the center of my universe. So, what’s up, my queen?”

  “Are you busy tonight?”

  “It’s Bingo night at the VFW.”

  “Crap, I forgot.” I could have used her to keep me from being too lily-livered.

  “Want to come and fondle some hard little balls with me? We can stick them in our bras and ask folks if they think it’s cold.”

  I grinned. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m going to have to pass.”

  “I’ll be home around eleven, after I drive my parents home. We could do something then. Hang out at the Purple Door Saloon? Go up to the Golden Sluice and stare at the other bored locals? Maybe Cooper will show up.”

  Cooper? Why would I care about … oh, yeah. “Nat, I told you that I’m not interested in Detective Cooper.”

  “Your mouth says one thing, but your eyes tell a different story.”

  “Then my eyes are full of shit.”

  Natalie scoffed. “Says Cleopatra, the Queen of de-Nile.”

  “Is that your sad attempt at a pun?”

  “Shut up. So, you want to head out when I get back from my parents’ or not?”

  “No, that’s too late. I’ll see you later.”

  “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

  I hung up and started the Picklemobile.

  By the time I rolled into Deadwood, the streetlights had kicked on. I cruised by Mudder Brothers on my way home. The parking lot was still a third full, but a handful of people were walking out to their cars.

  If I hurried, maybe I could change my clothes and get back there while the family of the deceased was still inside to distract George.

  It took me ten minutes to get home and change into my spy-wear—black leggings and a purple Elvis t-shirt. I couldn’t find my tennis shoes anywhere, including under my bed or in the shoe bin by the front door. After ransacking my closet one more time, I grabbed my purple boots and Aunt Zoe’s dark gray hoodie, slipped them on, and then raced out the door.

  I parked the Picklemobile behind Calamity Jane’s, where the old beast coughed, sputtered, and then died with its usual final gunshot “bang.” If Cooper came looking for me, I planned to use work as my alibi.

  I stepped inside the office, turned on the overhead lights, and dropped my tote on my desk in plain view of the large plate-glass windows. Then I turned on the bathroom light and fan and shut the door.

  There. All bases were covered if Cooper came snooping.

  After grabbing the emergency flashlight from the cupboard under the coffee maker, I zipped up the jacket and pulled the hood over my head. Finally, all of those years of watching Charlie’s Angels reruns were paying off. Dad would be so proud.

  I slipped out the back door and snuck through the parking lot, keeping an eye out for a cop car or Cooper’s unmarked sedan parked among the shiny classic cars.

  The coast appeared to be clear. I hesitated, gripping the flashlight tight in my palm. Without Harvey or Natalie by my side, sneaking around a building where corpses were incinerated wasn’t nearly as fun as it had seemed in the light of day.

  Slinking around the back of the Rec Center, I paused on the other side and peeked out at the street, and then at Mudder Brothers. As I watched, one of “Deadwood’s finest” cruisers turned in the funeral parlor parking lot, pulled into a spot, then reversed and rolled back out onto the street. I didn’t put it past Cooper to have one of his patrol cars watching the funeral parlor for the Picklemobile or Natalie’s pickup. Word on the street said the detective was as thorough as a blind proctologist.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and frowned at the number. It was local. I let it go to voice mail.

  Before I had it jammed back in my pocket, it started vibrating again. I pulled it back out. The same number filled the screen. I forced it to voicemail and dared it to ring again.

  It did.

  Dang it! I hit the answer button and whispered, “What?”

  “I knew you were there,” old man Harvey said. “What are you doing?”

  “Knitting a quilt in front of the TV.”

  “You’re such a lousy liar. You don’t ‘knit’ quilts. Besides, I’m looking out your neighbor’s front window right now, and your Aunt’s place is dark.”

  He must be using Miss Geary’s home phone. That explained the strange phone number.

  “How is Miss Geary tonight?” I tried to distract him.

  “Horny. I think her estrogen pills need some adjustin’. Twice during Jeopardy is enough. I sent her off to microwave some popcorn so I could hear the final question.”

  There were times when being around Harvey made me wish I could scrub my memory cells on a washboard with some lye soap. “Then why are you calling me?”

  “Doc’s looking for you.”

  My heart sat up and wagged its tail. It was sad, truly.

  Why didn’t Doc call me? Why go through Harvey? The dirty bird wasn’t my personal secretary.

  “He is?” I tried not to sound like I just found out the boy of my dreams had a crush on me.

  “Well, he didn’t say as much.”

  Ahh. Damn Harvey for baiting me, and double-damn me for biting his hook.

  “But something was buggin’ the boy last night when we were at the Golden Sluice. He finally caved when I leaned hard enough.”

  “And?” I was still dangling from that stupid hook.

  “He said he needed to talk to you.”

  Oh, hell. What did that mean? “Did he mean to talk to me about the weather or something else?” Like never wanting to kiss me again.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t ask. There is some stuff men just don’t talk about.”

  “Bullshit. You tell me all about your women.”

  “Yeah, but you’re a girl. You like to hear about all of that emotional mumbo jumbo.”

  Not really. “You talk about sex, too.”

  “That’s just for the fun of watching your cheeks turn pink.”

  I growled in my throat. “Remind me of the purpose of this phone call.”

  “I need to know where you are.”

  “Why?” Was Doc wondering?

  “I’m your bodyguard, remember?”

  “Right.”

  “There was a viewing at Mudder Brothers tonight. We missed out on another chance to sneak around the place.”

  No we hadn’t. “Maybe next time.”

  The Adams Museum’s clock chimed, announcing the hour. In the still of the evening air, the ringing sounded much closer than the two blocks separating me from the old building.

  “Hold up!” Harvey said. “I know those chimes. You’re at Mudder Brothers right now, aren’t you?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to tell him the truth and risk him joining me. But if I tried to lie, he’d think I was up to no good and be correct, and then he’d race down here, anyway.

  “I am, but you can’t come down here.”

  “Why not? You need me.”

  “You need to catch that final Jeopardy question, remember?”

  “I already missed it.”

  “Harvey, all I’m doing is looking in the garage windows, and then I’m coming right home.”

  “Is Natalie with you?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t like this at all.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Like I said, I’m just peeking, I swear, nothing else. I’ll be home before you know it, and then you can come over and tell me more sex stories that make my cheeks turn pink.” Or not.

  “Okay, but hurry your ass up. The lady of the house just waved at me from the kitchen. She has that look in her eye again, and I don’t think my fishin’ tackle can take much more cranking.”

  I winced. “Goodbye, Harvey.”

  I hung up and took another look over at Mudder Brothers to make sure the coast was still clear.

  With my hand partially covering the flashlight’s beam, I zig-zagged up along the base of the tree-lined hillside that led clear up to Mount Moriah cemetery, snapping twigs and breaking branches along the way. This route allowed me to approach the funeral parlor from the backside. At the edge of the trees, I tripped over a small stump and landed nose-down in the tall, scraggly weeds.

  Cheese and crackers! A gaggle of brain-starved zombies would have been quieter. I sat up, brushing myself off, swallowing some Black Hills dust. Luckily, I’d ended up with just a few stinging scratches on my palms for all of my klutziness.

  I squat-ran to the pine tree closest to the steel back doors, squinting in the darkness at the light fixture above the back door. Was it a motion sensor light? I couldn’t remember noticing that detail last week when Natalie and I had been watching Ray and George back here.

  I picked up a pinecone the size of a Bingo ball and tossed it in the general direction of the light.

  The light stayed off.

  Maybe that wasn’t big enough.

  I picked up an egg-sized rock and threw it. But my aim went askew. The rock clunked against one of the two steel back doors, about two feet below the light.

  Shit!

  I squatted behind the tree, my breath held.

  Nobody came to see who was knocking. Thank God!

  Should I try a bigger rock?

  Should I go back home and wait until I had Natalie by my side? Scaredy cat!

  The garage was just twenty yards away. I could sprint across the drive, and if the light came on, just keep on running all of the way back to the Picklemobile.

  Sure. No problem. I could handle this.

  Wait! Did something just move in the shadows behind the garage?

  I wrangled a grip on my imagination.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I ran across the asphalt, trying to keep my boot heels from clomping.

  Darkness shrouded me the whole way.

  Leaning against the side of the garage, I peeked around the corner at the light. It wasn’t on a motion sensor. Excellent. Now what?

  I scooted over to the garage window, stood on my tiptoes, and peered into the darkness on the other side of the glass. I couldn’t see a single thing. It would have been considerate of the Mudder boys to leave a night light on for peeps like me.

  After another glance around me to make sure I was still alone, I held the flashlight against the glass. A counter covered with boxes big and small ran half the length of the far wall. I tried to read the labels, but I was too far away with bad lighting.

  At the other end of the counter, a couple of wheeled-gurneys sat parallel to each other like taxis waiting for their turn to rush to the next death.

  I shined the light the other way. Floor-to-ceiling shelving held a bunch of shiny stainless steel trays, buckets and funnels of various sizes, and shallow baskets full of long skinny instruments. Next to the big shelf was a cupboard about the same size, the doors padlocked shut.

  On the floor in front of the locked cabinet was a thick steel basket that looked rusted. I could see several odd shaped black pins sticking out of the top. Some of the pins were pointed; some had metal balls instead at the ends. The pins appeared to be several inches long, the balls a little bit smaller than the bingo balls Natalie was probably pulling from a cage at that very moment.

  Mixed with the pins in the basket were several rusty-looking small steel rectangles with rounded corners. They look like tea party plates.

  Plates … like something a surgeon would screw into a skull to hold it together. My focus returned to the pins with the balls on the end. Could those be from the remains of—ewww! Yuck!

  The sound of the funeral parlor’s steel door thumping shut almost made me pee my pants right there on the spot. I switched off the light and pinned my back against the side of the building, listening while taking shallow breaths.

  Footfalls hitting the asphalt came closer.

  Shit, shit, shit! I did my best impression of paint, plastering myself to the wall in the darkness. My heart played the bongo drums in my throat.

  I heard several beeps, then the creaking of hinges and another thump of a door shutting.

  Someone had gone inside the garage.

  Light blared suddenly from the window next to me.

  My feet tingled in my boots, ready to run as far and fast as necessary to save my ass. I stayed still, resisting the urge to give them free rein.

  With just a step and a lean, I could get a well-lighted glimpse inside the room.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket.

  God damn it, Harvey! I knew from experience he wouldn’t give up. I needed to shut the damned thing off.

  I plucked it from my pocket. A glance at the screen turned into a double-take.

  It wasn’t Harvey calling. It was Doc!

  Something crashed on the other side of the wall.

  The phone vibrated again.

  Damn it. I really wanted to talk to Doc. But I had this whole spying thing I was a little busy with at the moment.

  Another crash reverberated through the wall.

  Who was in there and what were they doing? Throwing bodies around?

  The phone buzzed again.

  I caved, sliding along the wall away from the window.

  “Hello?” I whispered.

  “Violet?” Doc’s voice sounded hesitant.

  “Yes?”

  “Why are you whispering?”

  I didn’t want to lie to him, but I didn’t exactly want to announce that I was sneaking around in the dark outside the Mudder brothers’ garage at that very moment.

  “I’m not in a cell phone friendly zone.” No lie there.

  “You want me to hang up?”

  “No!” I said a little too loud. I glanced around in the shadows, and then dropped my voice again. “No, I want to talk to you about the other night.”