“Why did he call?” I asked. “Does he need your help with something down in Nevada?”

  Cornelius had gone to Las Vegas where his super-duper rich family lived. He’d mentioned something about driving out to the desert to visit an old friend in a ghost town called Gold-something. Goldtown? No, Goldwash, that was it. Maybe he had a ghost question for Doc, whose first-hand expertise on the spectral world far overshadowed anyone else I knew.

  “He’s not in Nevada,” Doc answered.

  “He’s not?”

  “No. He’s currently one floor above your office.”

  What? “I thought he went home for the holidays.”

  “He mentioned a problem with his flight.”

  “Is that why he called you?”

  “No. The spare key I gave him for my office has disappeared. Can you swing by his place on your way here and give him your key for now?”

  “Sure. Add another few minutes to our ETA.”

  “ ‘Our’? Did you pick up a hitchhiker?”

  “Worse. Natalie is coming with us.”

  “Good. It didn’t feel right without her. See you soon, Killer.”

  I hung up and shifted into gear. “We need to swing by my office and give Cornelius a key. He somehow lost his.”

  “A Christmas Eve mystery, how intriguing.” Natalie buckled her seatbelt. “What’s Corny still doing in town?”

  “Doc said he had a problem with his flight.”

  I rolled slowly through the thick slush, taking it easy on the narrow street. There was no rushing in Deadwood when it snowed. The neighborhoods had been built back during the horse and wagon days, so many of the streets were barely wide enough in spots to fit a single modern-day vehicle thanks to the line of parked cars hugging foundation walls and built-in garages along one side. The sheer, stomach-clenching drop to the buildings below on the other side didn’t allow much room for error.

  If Cornelius was in town, I could kill two birds with one stone and give him the gift I’d picked up for him.

  “Do me a favor,” I said to Natalie. “Reach in that bag in the back seat and grab the present with silver and white stripes.”

  She did as requested and pulled out the box. “What’s this?”

  “A present for Cornelius.”

  “Ah. I gave him mine the other day because I thought he was leaving.”

  “What did you give him?” I eased down the hill toward Main Street. The snow was over an inch deep on the sidewalks by now. I grimaced as I hit the brakes to stop for the light. Thankfully, my tires didn’t lose traction.

  Interstate 90 should be relatively clear still, especially with the plows and salt trucks. However, making it down twisty US Highway 14A to the entrance ramp could prove to be a slight challenge now. At this rate, we might need to chain up before heading out of town.

  “I found a travel toiletry kit with a Bigfoot Spotting Crew emblem on the sides that reminded me of him.”

  I grinned. “I think Bigfoot might be his second cousin.”

  A couple of minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot behind Calamity Jane Realty. There were no tire tracks in the snow back here, with the lot empty of any signs of life. The slush felt thicker, more slippery, too.

  “I dare you to do a doughnut,” Natalie said.

  As tempting as it was, I resisted. “I’ll spin a doughnut if you promise to bribe Detective Cooper with sex when he catches me mid-spin and threatens to lock me away in the hoosegow until next year.”

  “No way. I’m on sabbatical, especially from the likes of Coop and his ripped chest and bullet-scarred bod …” She trailed off for a moment, then took a sudden breath, shaking her head quickly. “Besides, that man needs to chill. He’s so tense these days. I swear if he sneezes, he’ll probably shatter into tiny, razor-sharp pieces.”

  I glanced her way, noticing that the sad lines around her mouth and eyes were back. Cooper wasn’t the only one with his nerves poking through his skin as of late.

  “He’s tired,” I reminded her, defending the prickly detective. In spite of Cooper’s tendency to bite me on the ass, I felt sorry for the overstressed law dog. He’d been putting in a lot of extra hours at work so that others on the force could enjoy holiday time with their families. “All of those long shifts he’s been pulling have him stuck in Mr. Hyde mode.”

  “That’s ‘Detective’ Hyde to you, Parker,” Natalie said in a low voice, imitating the crotchety detective.

  I chuckled. “Have you been practicing his lines in the mirror?”

  A shadow passed over her face as she stared out the windshield toward the back of Calamity Jane’s building. “I’ve been thinking about Coop way too much. I should probably take a break.”

  Natalie and Cooper had almost played hide the lollipop years back. What had started out as a flirty game of pool at the Purple Door Saloon in downtown Deadwood had turned into a heavy-duty makeout session behind the bar. But somewhere between getting acquainted with each other’s red zones and actual penetration, Cooper received a call from work that acted as a bucket of ice water on their whole steamy scene. He made the mistake that night of choosing work over Natalie. To make an even bigger mess of their brief affair, the bonehead later popped any feelings Natalie had bubbling to the surface by telling her that he didn’t dally with local girls. Then, the dumbass capped off the whole non-affair with a final “end of story” comment that was branded in Natalie’s brain.

  Now Cooper had gone and changed his mind. He wanted Natalie in his bed and not just for a single romp. He was thinking about breakfast the next morning, too—as in a repeat performance indefinitely. When I’d pressed him on how long he thought this Natalie-urge of his might last, he didn’t have an answer. Unfortunately for Cooper, Natalie was standing tall behind her sabbatical-from-men decision, kicking and karate-chopping any feelings that were trying to sway her toward embracing the hard-headed detective again.

  “What kind of a break are we talking here?” I prodded her. Being nosy was one of my duties as her best friend. “Like joining a convent and disappearing for a year?”

  She smirked. “Do I look like convent material to you?”

  I took in her worn overalls, Rudolph the Reindeer scarf, and red stocking cap with a green poof ball on the top. “No. More like a hillbilly variety show guest star.”

  She made a face at me.

  I grinned back. “Even more so now. All you’re missing is a piece of straw sticking out of your mouth.”

  “I’m going to stick a piece of straw somewhere south of your bellybutton if you keep making fun of my Christmas outfit.” While I giggled, she sobered. “Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of taking a break from Deadwood and heading down to Jackrabbit Junction for a week or two with my cousins.”

  Natalie’s cousins were the rabble-rousing Morgan sisters whom I’d lived next to in Rapid City while growing up. Even when they were young, the three fireballs had a knack for hunting trouble with a big gun, and when they found it, kicking ass until someone’s teeth fell out.

  “Knowing the shenanigans Claire, Kate, and Ronnie tend to get mixed up in,” I said, “I’m sure some time with them would get your mind off men.”

  “And probably land me in the pokey down there while I’m at it.”

  “That, too.” I squeezed her hand. “Come on, let’s go give Cornelius my present and Doc’s key so we can hit the road before it takes stealing a snowplow to escape the hills.”

  Natalie and I trekked through the snow to the back door leading to the second floor of Calamity Jane Realty’s office building. We kicked the slush off our boots on the downstairs mat and then tromped up the stairs with plenty of commotion so Cornelius would hear us coming.

  At the top of the stairs, I could hear polka music throbbing through the door.

  I knocked hard, trying to make myself heard over the trumpets and accordions.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Now what?” I asked the slab of wood. Maybe I could just slip the key under the door.

  Natalie reached around me and turned the knob. The door swung open. “How about that, brainiac?”

  “Showoff.” I hesitated on the threshold. “Knowing Cornelius, he might be running around naked.” Seeing the Abe Lincoln doppelganger’s nether regions would probably melt my eyeballs.

  “Please,” Natalie said. “If you’ve seen one penis, you’ve seen them all.”

  I gawked at her. “Not true. I’ve seen my fair share of jangly bits both up close and in movies, and so far each one has been like a snowflake.”

  Her lips twitched. “You mean cold and wet?”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I mean unique, smartass. Maybe we need to look into getting you some glasses. This sabbatical from sex may be affecting your vision.” I held my hand up in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

  She knocked my hand away. “My vision is fine. But if we don’t stop that damned polka music, my ears are going to bleed.” Natalie led the way inside.

  I followed, wincing at the music blaring throughout the large, open studio apartment.

  “Cornelius!” I yelled above the yodeling.

  Natalie rushed to the stereo and turned it off. “Try again.”

  I moved to the closed bathroom door, hearing the sound of the shower running on the other side. “Cornelius?” I called.

  The water turned off. Shower curtain rings rattled.

  “Brace yourself,” I warned Natalie and pounded on the bathroom door. I squinted as I waited, hoping to avoid the sight of his bare twig and berries. “Cornelius, it’s Violet. I brought you Doc’s other spare key.”

  “Violet who?” he called through the door.

  I rolled my eyes. He and I had played this knock-knock game before, usually at the butt crack of dawn at an ear-ringing decibel level through my cell phone. He knew damned well who I was. “I also brought you a present.”

  The door opened so fast that I yipped and jumped back.

  “A present, you say?”

  I winced in anticipation of an eyeful of Cornelius in his birthday suit, but he walked out fully dressed in black jeans and a bright orange sweater, smelling minty fresh. His goatee appeared less pointy than usual, but his bright cornflower blue eyes were as sharp as ever.

  I scratched my head. “How’d you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Get dressed so fast.”

  “What makes you think I’m dressed?”

  “But … I …” Shaking off my stupor, I gave up. “You know what, never mind.”

  “I heard there was a problem with your flight to Vegas,” Natalie said, setting his present that she’d carried for me on the café-style table in his kitchen alcove.

  “Not the flight.”

  “What then?” I asked.

  “The numbers.”

  I followed him to the kitchen. “You mean the flight times?”

  “No, the flight numbers. They were unlucky.”

  I crossed my arms. “You mean you cancelled your trip home because you didn’t like the flight’s numbers?”

  “Of course,” he said it as if that were a common happenstance with airline travelers.

  “Why did you book it in the first place if you didn’t like the numbers?” I had a feeling I was tumbling down a rabbit hole here, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

  “My original flight was changed. The new numbers were unacceptable, so I opted out of flying to my death and decided to hole up here among Deadwood’s ghosts for the time being.”

  In other words, he was going to stay in this apartment for Christmas. Alone. Well, alone if you didn’t count any spirits that might be swirling about.

  My heart smarted at the forlorn image of Cornelius sitting in front of his bank of monitors for the next couple of days while the snow piled up outside. Who would go get him his favorite protein drinks if he ran out?

  He pointed at the box Natalie had set on the table. “What’s that?”

  I picked it up and held it out to him. “Your present. Open it.”

  His brow wrinkled. “What’s the occasion?”

  “I was aiming for Christmas.”

  “That’s the one with the flying reindeer, right?”

  “And the big guy in the red suit. Do you not celebrate Christmas?” Hadn’t he been planning to fly home for the holidays? Maybe he celebrated Hanukkah or Kwanza or something else related to the Voodoo religion since his grandmother had been a renowned seer from Louisiana. Or maybe, based on his Halloween-like outfit, he didn’t partake in any of the holidays this time of year.

  “In the past, yes.” He took the present from me.

  “Why don’t you celebrate it anymore?” Natalie asked.

  “The dead don’t like to be reminded of this particular holiday.” He tore off a strip of the wrapping paper.

  I glanced around, wondering if we had any ghostly visitors watching us at this moment. While I had my moments in the paranormal sun here and there, most days I was in the dark when it came to actually being able to spot a ghost.

  My focus returned to him. “What about the living?”

  He shrugged and tore off more of the paper. “I imagine some of them don’t like to be reminded of the horrors that come with Christmas either.”

  Horrors? I snorted. He must have spent a holiday with my sister at some point.

  “When I say ‘the living,’ I mean you.” I tapped his chest. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

  “That depends.”

  Natalie shot me a grin. “On what, Cornelius? The time of day?”

  “To which part of my body you are referring in this case. For example, my hair shafts are dead cells.”

  “Isn’t the top layer of your skin dead, too?” she asked.

  “If you’re referring to the thicker, horny layer, that’s a common misperception. It’s still alive and quite useful.”

  Natalie guffawed. “My horny layer is way too much alive these days. It doesn’t seem to understand that the rest of us are on sabbatical.”

  “I know someone who would be happy to fix that problem for you,” I reminded her.

  Her gaze narrowed. “That would turn my little problem into a calamity of epic proportions, and you know it.”

  I did. Unfortunately for Natalie, her heart usually led the way into relationships and ended up battered, bruised, and curled up in a gutter.

  Turning back to Cornelius, I tapped on the unwrapped box he held in his hands. “Open it.”

  He lifted the lid. “What is this?” He extracted the maroon material.

  “A new robe,” I said, taking the empty box from him so he could hold up the thick, soft robe. “Your yellow one has seen better days.” Not to mention it was too short for my viewing comfort. This new one would cover his hairy knees. I had Doc try it on to double-check its length.

  Cornelius lowered the robe. “Does this mean I can walk around without trousers in your presence now?”

  “No. I still require pants at all times in your case.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” He set the robe on the table next to the empty box. “Thank you for the gift, Violet. I will think of you every time I wear it.”

  I grimaced. That wasn’t quite what I’d been going for.

  “I have something for you as well,” he said, walking over to a narrow door next to the bathroom. “Or rather, for your son.”

  He did? “You do?”

  “This arrived yesterday.” He pulled out a trident that was almost as tall as me. “I believe you’ll want it for tomorrow’s festivities, although it might be a tight fit under the tree.”

  “Is that real?” Natalie asked, joining him. She ran her finger down the steel shaft.

  “As real as you’re going to find in this century. It was made by a weaponsmith who specializes in medieval bronze and steel weaponry.”

  I stepped closer, admiring the swirling designs etched into the forked head. Layne was going to flip his lid over this. His list for Santa had been a mishmash of weapons, helmets, and books about both, but … “Cornelius, I don’t know if I can afford this.”

  “I thought money was no object for you,” he said.

  A shout of laughter escaped my lips before I could corral it. “What makes you think that?”

  “You rarely carry cash and wear expensive shoes.”

  Natalie smiled. “He’s got you nailed, babe.”

  “Not quite. I don’t carry cash most days because supporting two children on my own sucks the lifeblood out of my wallet.” I ran my fingertips over the tallest of the three metal points on the head. “As for my shoes, my mother supports my addiction to pricey footwear.” Her generosity to my feet was part of why I had put up with Susan’s shit for as long as I had. As much as I would like to shove a mummified mouse down her gullet and set her out for the garbage truck to take, I didn’t want to piss off my shoe supplier.

  Okay, truth be told, it went way deeper than that with my mom, including a smidgeon of parental-induced guilt and a dollop of unconditional love, but the expensive shoes Mom routinely gave me went a long way toward healing Susan’s claw scratches.

  Cornelius held out the trident for me to take. “Don’t worry about the cost. I’ll make a trade with you.”

  “I’m not sure I have anything you want.”

  “Not want, but need.”

  I took the trident, my eyes narrowing. “What’s that?”

  “A strong connection with a certain changeling ghost.”

  Not that again. I sighed. “So, you’ll give me this undoubtedly very expensive trident in exchange for channeling an evil child ghost that could make my life hell if I screw up during the process and allow it to latch onto me like a ghoulish tick?”

  “When you put it that way, yes.”

  I looked to Natalie for guidance, being that she had several extra months of experience over me in age. “What do you think I should do, oh wise one?”

  She shrugged.

  That was it. Nothing else.

  “Golly gee, Nat. Your brilliance is blinding me.”