“Not yet, but he could be after two shots of tequila to loosen you up and a ribbed-for-your-pleasure condom.”

  I winced at just the notion of sex with Cooper. I’d be scarred for life. I meant really, truly scarred. With all of the sharp points and rough edges on him, I’d show less wear after skinny dipping with a Great White.

  “Let me rephrase that. I’m not into Cooper.”

  “You should at least try a taste before you make that decision.”

  Here it was suddenly in my face, a golden opportunity to tell her I’d already tried Doc and wanted to savor him and only him—if he’d still let me. I crossed my arms over my chest, squeezing tight in preparation for her to go all Medusa on me. “Natalie, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I know, I know. Don’t waste your breath.”

  My mouth fell open. “You do?”

  “Yes. I’m not an idiot. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me for days and just say it.”

  She’d known for days? She wasn’t bawling her eyes out and wanting to stab me with a fork? We must be talking about a different “something.” To clarify, I asked, “Just say what in particular?”

  “That you want me to move out.”

  “I do?” I mentally slapped my forehead, tires squealing as I whipped a U-turn and changed course again. “I mean, yes, I do.”

  “It’s about my sleep talking, isn’t it?”

  “No, it’s just time for me to figure out a different way of dealing with this insomnia. You’ve been a wonderful friend and I appreciate having you by my side, but the kids are starting school tomorrow and I want to start a new routine here—one with only them and me.”

  Okay, new game plan: first, get her out of the house, then tell her about Doc and me on neutral ground where she can’t smother me with my own pillow.

  She nodded. “That makes sense. Where does your aunt fit in?”

  “She’ll do whatever I ask when it comes to the kids.” Which would be to just continue being herself at the moment—and keep the cookies and muffins coming.

  “Alrighty, then.” She shot me a smile that barely reached the corners of her mouth. “I’ll be out tonight.”

  My heart panged a little at her hurt expression. “Natalie, you’re not disappearing from our lives, you’re just returning to yours.”

  “I know.” She slipped past me through the doorframe, her booted leg thumping toward my bedroom. She added over her shoulder, “It’s just going to be a little lonely at first.”

  I followed her into my room. “Just think, your own bathroom, your own bed. You’ll have total privacy again. I’m going to be grinding my teeth with envy, you lucky duck.”

  “Ha! That reminds me of the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech the last jerk who broke up with me preached.” She grabbed her work cowboy hat off the bedpost. “I’m the jealous one. You don’t see where you’re lucky.”

  “The grass is always greener,” I admitted. I caught her forearm as she passed by me. “Stay for supper tonight?”

  She squeezed my hand. “Sure. We can toast to our breakup, and then I’ll head home with my broken heart in my hat.” She tipped said hat at me. “I’ll still be here whenever you need me, you know.”

  “I know. It’s the sole reason why I put up with your sorry ass.”

  “You can kiss my sorry ass, you gomer. Let’s go before you get all weepy about me leaving.”

  I followed her downstairs and into the kitchen, where Aunt Zoe stood at the window. Addy and Layne had moved their breakfast to the back porch, where they watched Elvis eat the seed they’d tossed out.

  After stealing another banana nut muffin, I yelled “Goodbye” to the kids, dropped a kiss on Aunt Zoe’s cheek, and flicked Natalie’s ear in passing. Then, I hopped into the Picklemobile and putted into work.

  Doc’s car was missing from his usual spot. I purposely walked around the front of the building so I could peek into his office without being too obvious. Turned out peeking wasn’t necessary—it was dark inside. I could press my nose against the plate-glass window and gape for all he cared.

  I’d thought about calling him on the way into work, as well as every ten minutes since driving away from his house last night. But I wasn’t sure what to say yet besides, “please don’t be mad at me, anymore,” which sounded like something a seventh grader would write in a folded note.

  Inside Calamity Jane’s, Mona staffed the front room, her fingernails clacking as usual. Some days, she clacked so much I swore she was re-writing Michener’s Hawaii.

  “Morning, Mona.”

  The familiar scent of her jasmine perfume added a spring to my step. Natalie was right. I was lucky in many ways I hadn’t thought about, like with Mona, who had made a point of helping me succeed from my first day on the job. She always offered a hand up when needed and periodically filled Ray’s orange juice glass with Benefiber to give me a break from the asshole’s needling.

  “Hey, Vi. How did it go with Cornelius?”

  “Quite spiffy. I’m about to type up a new offer for fifteen thousand more than George Mudder’s.”

  She took off her rhinestone rimmed glasses and smiled wide. “I knew you’d be able to work your magic on him.”

  It wasn’t really magic since I’d never gotten around to the smoke and mirrors bit, only parlor tricks.

  “Thanks for your confidence.” She had way more in me than I’d had. I grabbed some coffee and got busy typing. “I’m giving Ray twenty-four hours to come back with a higher offer. I hope Tiffany is on board with that timeline.”

  “It’s pretty typical,” Mona said. “I’ll be surprised if Tiffany bucks.”

  I could ask Doc if she bucked or not. Blah! I had to squash that jealousy bug, damn it. Tiffany was Doc’s past. I needed to grow up and get over her before my green-eyed tormenter chased Doc away from me—assuming Doc wasn’t already done with my shenanigans.

  As I sent off the new offer, I said, “I guess we’ll see how much George Mudder wants the place now.”

  “And how far Ray is willing to go to see you fired,” Mona said while clacking.

  I felt pretty confident I had this sale after my phone call last night with Cornelius, who’d still been a machine gun of chatter about the paranormal activity he’d recorded during the séance.

  But I knew better than to get too cocky. Lady Luck loved to poke me in the butt with a sharp stick more often than not. And the way Cornelius talked about my so-called channeling abilities gave me a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. If Ray and George leaned on us more, I feared another séance might be in my future, which would make Safari Skipper and me BFFs forever. Butch and I could get matching I-love-Skipper tattoos.

  After I sent the offer to Tiffany and confirmed its receipt with a short and sweet phone call to the Jessica Rabbit twin, my day turned positively rosy. A Disney tune played in my head, and my lips couldn’t stop smiling. Now to go have fun with my kids for a few hours and forget about the flyswatter that life kept using to slap me down.

  I looked back at Jane’s office, noticing the light was on, but the door was closed.

  “How’s Jane this morning?” I asked Mona. “I want to see if she’ll mind me taking the day off to spend with the kids since it’s their last day of summer vacation.”

  “She’s been in there with the door closed since I came in this morning. Enter at your own risk.”

  “Where’s Ray?”

  Mona shrugged. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday.”

  Tiptoeing down the hallway, I stood outside of Jane’s office, listening for her voice on the other side of the door. Silence seeped through the crack at the bottom, nothing more.

  Should I just leave without saying anything to Jane? We didn’t really have set hours, but a day off in the middle of the week wasn’t usual. Until I had the sale of the hotel under my belt, the last thing I wanted to do was piss off my boss.

  Taking a deep breath, I rapped on Jane’s door.

  A moan came from the other side.

  My stomach tightened with concern.

  I turned the knob. It was unlocked.

  “Jane?” I called out in a quiet voice and pushed open her door. A musky, stale smell of liquor wafted over me.

  My boss sat slumped behind her desk, her cheek a paperweight, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in her grip.

  I grimaced. She looked like I felt most mornings, but having two kids that needed me kept me from sliding inside a bottle of whiskey.

  “Jane, are you okay?” I asked from the threshold, unsure if I should step into the room or just leave and close the door behind me.

  “Smut a life,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  She raised her head an inch. “Shut-off-the-damned-light,” she said as one grumbled word.

  I flicked off the switch. A lamp in the opposite corner of the room filled the room with a soft glow. “Can I get you something?” I asked, stepping toward her desk.

  With a grunt, she lifted herself from the desktop. That’s when I realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a lacy cream-colored bra and a couple of reddish-blue bruises on her shoulder. Jeez, she was a poster model for the divorce-was-hell series.

  I shut the door and looked around for her clothes. “Where’s your shirt?”

  She looked down at her chest and groaned. “Oh, my God, I thought it was just a nightmare.”

  “What do you mean? What happened?”

  She shook her head, and then squeezed the bridge of her nose.

  I found her silk blouse wadded up in the corner, one stocking was wound up in it. I shook out her blouse, trying to loosen the tight wrinkles.

  “Here you go.” I placed the shirt on her desk, laying the stocking next to it.

  “Ugh, I’ve really messed things up now,” she said in a voice thick with self-disgust. “What time is it?”

  “Just after nine.”

  “It’s Thursday, right?”

  “No. Wednesday.” I clasped my hands together, not sure if I should help her get dressed and on her feet, or just slowly slip back out the door. The mother in me won out. “Can I help you with your shirt, Jane?”

  She gave me a smile. I’d seen expensive teacups that looked less fragile. “I could use a hit man. I have a soon-to-be ex-asshole of a husband just yearning to be run over by a truck.”

  “How about we start with some coffee? Mona brewed a fresh pot this morning.”

  Her face sobered. “Is Ray here?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Good.” She shoved to her feet and stumbled into the cabinet behind her.

  I rounded her desk and steadied her. She reeked of stale whiskey and something else. I sniffed as subtly as I could, almost recognizing the other scent. Then she reached out and grabbed my shoulder for support, and the smell slapped me like a pizza pan: Stetson cologne.

  Ray!

  The bottom of my stomach dropped out.

  “Jane,” I waded into her troubles on my very tippy-toes. “Did Ray do something to you?” I’d seen him furious many times. He spoke Violence as his second language. Had he taken out his frustrations with me on her?

  She groaned and reached for her shirt. “You could say that.”

  “Do I need to contact the police?”

  She shook her head, buttoning. “It’s not like that.”

  “Did you get in an argument with him?”

  “No, it’s worse than that.”

  “Did he grab or hit you?” That would explain the bruises I saw.

  “No.”

  “What happened?” I asked, my fists clenched. It was one thing for the asshole to come after me, but not Jane, not when she was taking such a beating from her ex-husband.

  “Nothing,” she mumbled, avoiding my stare.

  “Jane, just tell me.”

  Her gaze met mine, the dullness from the whiskey gone, replaced by her usual sharp stare. “Ray and I had sex last night.”

  I took a step back. “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  I took another step. “Where? Why?”

  “Right here in my office. I was drunk, feeling old and unattractive, and he said I looked beautiful and had a great body.”

  “Ray said those nice things?” That couldn’t have been Ray. She must have been hallucinating.

  “Yes, Ray. He can be very charming when he tries. How do you think he lands so many sales?” She ran a hand through her short gray-blonde locks. “He has flirted with me for years and I’ve never had a problem resisting. But last night …” she sighed and dropped the empty bottle of whiskey into her trash. “Last night, I needed to feel wanted. He gave me that and more.”

  I winced and cringed at the same time, clasping my hands again, wanting to go wash them. Maybe even sandblast them, and then bleach them.

  She slipped on her shoes, and then tucked the lone stocking in her purse. I stood aside as she passed by me and reached for the door knob. “Now, I’m going to go home and try to forget this big mess.”

  “You want me to drive you?”

  “No, I’m okay. I just look worse for wear.” She looked back at her desk and shook her head. “Violet, promise me you’ll keep quiet about this. I can’t face the disappointment in Mona’s face if she finds out—not yet.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Although I’d like to take a two-by-four to Ray’s knees for taking advantage of Jane when she was at her weakest. But that would mean breaking my promise, and Jane needed a friend right now, not a heroic big mouth.

  Then I remembered why I’d braved her office in the first place. “Oh, Jane.”

  She raised her eyebrows, and then winced as if it hurt.

  “I just sent off a new hotel offer that gives Ray’s client twenty-four hours to counter. Would you mind if I took the afternoon off? My kids start back to school tomorrow. I’d like to spend the day with them.”

  Her eyes grew a little glassy. “Go, be with your little ones. Cherish them.” She cleared her throat and blinked a couple of times, her face hardening again. “Let’s get out of here and enjoy the sunshine.”

  I had a feeling she’d be hiding under her covers instead. If it was me, I’d be checking into having my vagina steam cleaned.

  She shut her door after us, twisting the knob to check that it was locked. “Tell Mona I’ll see her tomorrow,” Jane whispered and snuck out through the back door.

  I did just that, avoiding eye contact with Mona while informing her I could be reached on my cell phone. I wanted to know as soon as Ray checked in to see if I’d need to pull another ghost out of my hat to wrangle more money from Cornelius.

  My cheeks warmed under Mona’s steady gaze as if I were the one who’d had sex with Ray the snake. Ugh. I couldn’t escape to the Picklemobile soon enough.

  I spent the afternoon trying to forget about Jane and Ray doing the horizontal hokey pokey in her office. During the picnic with the kids and Aunt Zoe at Pactola Dam, I shucked what I could of my worries and let the sun wash over me while they all played in the water.

  Over dinner later that evening, the anxieties returned in a flood. I played with my mashed potatoes while wondering if Ray having sex with Jane meant that he had a leg up when it came to my being replaced by his nephew, Benjamin.

  Ben was more successful than I was in real estate sales and didn’t let himself get entangled emotionally with each of his clients. He ended the business meetings at dinner. I, on the other hand, was just getting rolling by the time dessert arrived.

  Several times throughout the meal I caught both Natalie and Aunt Zoe watching me with furrowed brows. I tried to hide my fretting behind an overly bright smile, but neither of them seemed to be fooled by my billboard of faked happiness.

  After dinner, I walked Natalie out to her pickup, enjoying the smell of freshly mowed grass and the feel of freedom in the air. Finally, no more hiding in the bathroom with the water running while on the phone with Doc, no more worrying if I cried his name out in my sleep.

  She tossed her duffel bag into her pickup cab. “What’s up, Vi?”

  “What do you mean?” My cheeks warmed. Thank God she couldn’t read my mind.

  “Something has you distracted tonight. Is it work? Or is it a man?”

  Yes to both questions—it was work and Ray, but I’d made a promise. “I’m just a little nervous about this hotel sale not going through.”

  “I thought you said things were looking pretty good. That the oddball is extremely interested and motivated.”

  “He is. It’s just you never know what can go wrong.”

  She squeezed my arm. “Have a little faith in yourself.”

  A screen door slammed across the street.

  “Hey, you two!” Old man Harvey waddled down Miss Geary’s drive towards us.

  “Hey, yourself,” Natalie said, her smile welcoming.

  Harvey glanced around, as if checking to make sure the coast was clear. When he got up close, he poked a finger at me and whispered, “I’ve got something juicy for you, girl.”

  I grinned at Natalie. “Being that he just came from Ms. Geary’s place, I’m not sure I want to think about him and anything juicy.”

  She snickered.

  Harvey gave a fake laugh, and then wrapped his thumbs around his suspenders, rocking back on his heels. “I found out who the head belongs to.”

  “I know. You told me already. It was one of your weirdo neighbors from Slagton. The one who took care of the cemetery.”

  “I was wrong. The chew marks on his nose and cheeks threw me off.”

  “Eww!” I shivered in revulsion.

  “You think that’s bad, you should have seen what the critters did to the eyes and tongue.”

  “Ack! Stop. We just finished eating.” I threatened to plug my ears.

  “Anyway,” Harvey knocked my hands back down, “Cooper had an artist produce a rough sketch of what the man looked like based off what was left of him.”

  Natalie and I both leaned in closer. “And?” I nudged.

  “He was the owner of the funeral joint in Belle Fourche.”

  “The owner of the funeral joint …” I whispered. “Just like George Mudder.”

  “Aye,” Harvey said.

  “Aye?” Natalie frowned at him. “What are you, Scottish now?”