“Amber likes it when I talk dirty to her with a Scottish brogue. I kind of get stuck in that mode.”

  Come on! There was too much sex going on in this little town, and not enough involving Doc and me.

  “Do you think George has any connection to the corpse?” I asked Harvey.

  “If he did,” Natalie surmised, “Eddie could have gotten rid of the evidence during the autopsy.”

  “Aye, that was my thought, too.”

  I elbowed him. “Knock off the Scottish crap.” It conjured images of him in a kilt and suspenders sans his boxers that had no business in my brain. “We need to get back into that funeral home.”

  Harvey nodded, combing his beard with his fingers.

  “Why?” Natalie asked.

  “To see what’s in the crates,” I told her. And to see the records room again—I hadn’t forgotten about Doc’s prostitute ghost. I had a dead girl to find on paper.

  “There’s another viewing tomorrow night.” Harvey said. “I’ll run decoy.”

  I shook my head. “If Cooper catches wind of you at Mudder Brothers, he’ll arrest me on suspicion alone.”

  Harvey and I both turned to Natalie.

  “No,” she said. “I’m going to go home now and live my quiet life.” She hoisted herself up into her pickup and slammed the door.

  I leaned in through the open window. “Come on, Nat. Please.”

  “No. Definitely not.”

  “I’ll let you borrow my black velvet bustier.”

  “Nope. My boobs don’t look as good as yours in it.”

  “How about my purple cowboy boots?”

  She chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Can I wear them bull-riding at The Blue Outlaw down in Rapid?”

  The Blue Outlaw bar was known for three things—rowdy crowds, unisex bathrooms, and the hanky panky that happened when the two were mingled and too much beer added to the mix. The idea of my boots touching the floor in those bathroom stalls made me grimace. The leather would need to be professionally cleaned and the bottoms resoled. Was Natalie’s company at Mudder Brothers worth that price?

  The flashback of those love bite bruises on Jane’s shoulder sealed the deal. Ray was up to no good. It was time to put a stop to his bullshit.

  At my nod, Natalie grinned. “Sweet! I get to keep them for a month, too,” she decided. I nodded again. “Bring them with you tomorrow night.”

  Doc would be less than thrilled to hear his favorite boots were out on loan. Oh, well, for all I knew, it might take me a month to woo him into touching me again.

  Natalie started her truck. “And this time, if Cooper threatens to take us to jail, you have to show him your cha-chas. My tattooed ass is on hiatus.”

  “Aye!” Harvey’s gold teeth showed. “Now that’ll give Coop’s wee bits a fine heft.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Thursday, August 23rd

  A fox had gotten into the chicken coop. At least that’s what Aunt Zoe’s kitchen looked like this first back-to-school morning. Feathers even floated in the air thanks to a very excited and agitated Elvis, who Addy wisely shooed outside before I turned the damned bird into a Kentucky Fried variety.

  While I herded the kids through their bathroom routines, playing drill sergeant in order to get them into their clothes, Aunt Zoe packed lunches and prepared breakfast. With a few growls and whines, we all fell back into the roles we’d established during the last school year.

  I dropped both kids off at school, watched them until they stepped through the doors, then made a beeline to the Tin Cup Café for a much-needed punch of caffeine. Only after I had caramel-flavored coffee flowing through my system did my pulse flutter into its usual chaotic rhythm.

  I pulled into the parking lot behind Calamity Jane’s and gaped at the empty parking spots. Where was everyone? No Mona or Ray, no Jane or Doc. I pulled out my cell to check the time. Was I that early? Not at all. I was actually ten minutes late.

  The voicemail notification on my cell phone might explain what was going on. I checked the caller. It was Doc. He’d called this morning during the get-ready-for-school bedlam.

  I shut off the Picklemobile. The tailpipe’s goodbye salute scared a couple of crows from a nearby pine tree. I played Doc’s message as I crossed the parking lot.

  “Violet, call me when you have a moment.” His tone was all business, no love.

  Damn it. I glared at my phone. I hated it when he left that kind of message.

  Well, Doc would just have to wait for me to get inside and sit down. If he planned to knock the wind out of me, I was not going to land on my ass.

  The lights were on inside Calamity Jane’s, but Jane’s office was dark, the door still closed and locked. Someone had been in this morning—there was fresh coffee in the pot. I caught a hint of Mona’s jasmine perfume, but that could just be permanently embedded in the walls. No smell of Ray’s Stetson whatsoever, thankfully, since I was beginning to associate it with the urge to hit someone in the face with a cream pie, and that was such a waste of good cream.

  I’d expected a call from Mona all day yesterday. I’d even called her late last night, waking her up, to ask if she’d heard if Ray and George had upped their offer. Between yawns, she’d said he hadn’t come in all day, nor called in.

  I’d figured this thing with Jane might be a little awkward, but Ray usually thrived on discomfort. Plus, this was an excellent power play over me. Waiting for the backlash from it had me chewing my knuckles.

  When I pulled out my chair, I found a piece of paper sitting on my seat with a pink Post-it note stuck to it. Mona’s handwriting on the pink note gave away the author.

  Ray never showed up or submitted another offer. This came in from Tiffany this morning. Looks like we might have a hotel on the Sales Pending board soon! Back this afternoon—in Spearfish all morning. You can reach me on my cell.

  Mona

  I fell into my seat, holding the acceptance letter with the signature of Tiffany’s client. Then I jumped back up and whooped with victory, spiking an imaginary football off Ray’s empty desk. When the burst of glee ran its course and I stopped spinning and grinning, I sat down on top of his desk and frowned out the front window at the passing traffic.

  Something was up. This win was way too easy. Ray must be playing some kind of dirty trick. Maybe sleeping with Jane was all part of his diabolical plan to get rid of me in spite of the hotel sale. Maybe he knew something about Cornelius that I didn’t. Maybe … .

  My cell phone rang. I hopped off Ray’s desk and grabbed the phone.

  The screen showed Doc’s name and number. Falling into my chair, I answered with a little bit of hesitation, still gun-shy after our last parting. “Hello?”

  “I almost called you last night,” Doc said without introduction.

  Why? To say what? I took a calming breath, leaning back in my chair. I asked myself what the cool, leather-clad Olivia Newton-John version of Sandy would say to Danny Zuko while she took a hit off her cigarette. Tell me about it, Stud.

  “What stopped you?” I asked in a voice I hoped sounded sultry.

  “Cornelius.”

  I sat up in my chair and stubbed out my imaginary cigarette. “What? Why? Did you run into him yesterday?”

  “No, I didn’t, thank God. I’m not prepared for a second meeting yet.”

  What did that mean?

  “I decided not to call you,” Doc continued, “because I figured you’d want more of an explanation about what happened at the séance.”

  Silly man. I’d rather he’d called even if it was just to talk about the weather. I’d envisioned him at home drawing a mustache on my picture and throwing darts at it. Doubts and anxieties had made for dark clouds on my horizon during the picnic at Pactola Dam, which had me periodically cursing under my breath.

  How could I have allowed him to burrow this deeply under my skin so fast? One of us needed to be the adult in this relationship and fess up to some feelings soon.

  I opened my mouth to take the first step and tell him I’d missed hearing his voice, but then my tongue got shy and stuck with the easy stuff. “What’s your explanation?”

  “Well, after trying to analyze what happened to me in that room, the things I was sensing and visualizing, I came up with three possibilities.”

  I waited, my eyes closed to give him my full attention.

  “The first is that the Old Prospector Hotel is full of ghosts, and only one or two usually come out at a time, like with our adventure in the stairwell.”

  “That sounds like the setting to a kickass movie.”

  “Right. The second is that Cornelius’s chanting really works, and he has the ability to communicate with ghosts. Although, from what I could tell, he seemed oblivious to them, just drawing them into the room, where they turned on me as soon as they realized I could sense them.”

  Cornelius was legit? The possibility seemed farfetched what with all of Cornelius’s eccentric fanfare, but so did Doc meeting a prostitute in the stairwell, and yet I was willing to swallow that horse-pill of a concept. “What is the third possibility?”

  “That you were the one channeling the ghosts.”

  I laughed out loud. “I highly doubt it was me. I’m a dud, remember?”

  “I don’t believe that entirely. That whole Kyrkozz event from the previous séance still has me scratching my head.”

  “You’re forgetting about another possibility,” I told him.

  “Which is?”

  “That you are responsible for channeling the ghosts.”

  “I thought about that, but I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’ve been playing this ghost detection game for years, and that was the first time I’ve ever experienced a rush of so many entities. The dead are usually loners.”

  He’d been dealing with the ghost visions for years? One of these days, I was going to make him tell me his whole story from the beginning.

  I picked up a pencil and tapped it on my desk calendar. “When you say a ‘rush’ of entities, how many are we talking?”

  He hesitated, the line quiet for several seconds. “You’re not going to believe me.”

  “Give me a chance. I’m trying here.”

  “From what I can determine, I was rushed by thirteen different entities within a few seconds, including the prostitute I met in the stairwell earlier.”

  I stopped tapping. “Thirteen? How could you tell?”

  “It took me most of yesterday to sort it all out, but I wrote down the different pieces of memories I experienced as the entities passed through me along with the unique essences that came with each. Then I sorted through flashes of images to distinguish individual beings. When I was finished, I had ended up with thirteen.”

  “You mean you relived thirteen different dying moments within seconds?”

  “Yes.”

  Christ. That explained the total loss of control for him, including his badger-like grip on my thigh. “It’s no wonder you passed out.”

  “Passed out? Yeah, about that, I have a strong suspicion I was knocked out before I could pass out. You should see my black-eye.”

  Wincing, I scratched at a spot of dried coffee on my desktop. “Sorry about that.”

  “Apology not accepted. I’m going to need you to kiss it better first.”

  I savored his peace offering, wishing he was close enough to touch. “I’m your Huckleberry.”

  “I also have two other big bruises that are going to need your attention. And after you finish with those …”

  “I’ll take care of the rest of you,” I finished for him. “I’ll bring my favorite flavored lip gloss.”

  “What flavor are we talking about here?”

  “Cherry.” I lowered my voice to a purr-level. “How about I show you the magic trick I can do with my mouth?”

  I heard him suck in a breath. “Damn, Boots. You shouldn’t say that kind of stuff to me while I’m standing around in public.”

  “Where’s ‘public.’”

  “Rapid City, near the airport.”

  Airport? “You flying somewhere?”

  “No, just going through a client’s financials onsite today.”

  “Good. When can I see you again?”

  “I’ll call you tonight after I get home.”

  Taking a deep breath, I leaped. “Or you could come over and watch a movie with me.”

  Silence filled the line. I heard the rumble of a plane engine in the background.

  I was about to ask if he was still there when he said, “What about Natalie?”

  “She’s no longer staying with us. It’s just me and the family.”

  “Addy and Layne might get ideas about us.”

  I smiled at the idea that an us might exist.

  “I’ll explain that you’re my friend and I want to hang out with you. We’ll start there and see where this goes.”

  “Aren’t you worried the kids might say something to Natalie?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m going to tell Natalie the truth.”

  Another plane engine rumbled through the line, filling a second bout of silence.

  “You sure you want to do that?”

  “Yes.” Not really, but I was sure I wanted more of Doc.

  “When?”

  I didn’t know exactly, or even how I’d broach the subject, but it would have to be soon if Doc took me up on my offer. I wasn’t going to have my kids lie for me. “Soon. Very soon. But first I need her help tonight, and she’s going to need a clear head.”

  “Help with what?”

  “We’re going to another viewing.”

  He groaned. “Why? Don’t try to tell me it’s because you want to pay your condolences, either. I’m not Cooper.”

  “Something is going on with Ray.”

  “Besides being an asshole at work?”

  “Well, that’s the thing. He hasn’t been in to work for two days.”

  “Maybe he’s taking a little vacation.”

  “He missed the deadline to counter Cornelius’s latest offer. Tiffany sent me a fax this morning. We got the hotel if we don’t hit any other snags.”

  “That’s great, Violet. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, thanks, but I’m not celebrating until I figure out what Ray is up to.”

  “Let me guess, you think Ray’s not at work because he’s coming up with a way to screw up your deal?”

  “Pretty much, yes.”

  That and maybe he was feeling awkward about Jane. Then again, Jane had been gone all day yesterday and wasn’t in yet today. Maybe they were somewhere together, locked up in a hotel room where Ray was securing his place in Jane’s bed, from where he’d order my dismissal.

  “That sounds a tad paranoid,” Doc said.

  “I like to think of it as envisioning all possible outcomes so that I can choose the proper course.”

  “Right,” he said, dragging the word out. “What do you hope to accomplish at Mudder Brothers tonight?”

  “You mean you’re not going to try to stop me?”

  “If I’ve learned anything about you over the last few weeks, Violet, it’s that there is no stopping you once your mind is set.”

  My father called that being driven and smiled down at me with pride. Mom used labels such as borderline compulsive and obsessive and offered green tea every time I stopped by.

  “I’m going to Mudder Brothers to pick George’s brain—with Natalie’s help. I want to find out if Ray was pushing him to buy the hotel just to screw with me. I also want to see if I can find out the name of the prostitute from his records, one way or another.”

  “One way or another, huh? Are you sure that’s a good idea? Cooper is watching you like a hawk right now. If he hears you’re even at the viewing, he’ll be hell bent to track you down. I won’t be home to bail you out of jail until later.”

  Every time Doc mentioned bailing me out of jail, I felt all warm and bubbly inside.

  “Cooper isn’t going to find out,” I said, trying to ignore the bubbles. “Natalie and I will be in and out in a flash. Plus, we’re having old man Harvey run interference. He’s going to go hang out with Cooper until I give him the all-clear sign.”

  “Violet.” He paused for several beats. “Be careful.”

  I had a feeling he’d edited out several comments before tossing out that short and sweet warning. “I will.”

  “Promise me you will not try to sneak into the side room to see what’s in those crates.”

  “I promise,” I said, but crossed my fingers just in case something came up that changed my plans. “My focus tonight is asking George about Ray and checking out his death records.”

  “Good. Because I really want to see you tonight.” He paused, and then added, “Along with your cherry-flavored lip gloss.”

  I grinned. Lusty Lil strikes again. “See you later, Doc.”

  “You will.”

  For the next several heartbeats, I sat in my chair and daydreamed about rolling around naked with Doc on a bed of cash from the sale of the Old Prospector Hotel.

  Then I remembered what Harvey told me last night about the corpse’s identity and I smacked my forehead. Dang it! I should have told Doc about that.

  Or maybe not. After all, our little falling out had been over that damned head. It was probably better to broach that subject tonight in person, picking up right where we’d left off—with my hand on his thigh.

  I glanced down at the acceptance letter Tiffany had faxed, and then frowned at Ray’s empty desk. The snake was up to something. I’d lay odds it had to do with my job going up in smoke—poof!

  Tonight, I was going to get some answers out of George Mudder so that the next time Ray attacked, I’d be ready and waiting.

  * * *

  Judging from the parking lot at Mudder Brothers Funeral Parlor, the majority of the viewing crowd had gone home to catch the last half of Jeopardy.

  “Don’t park here,” I told Natalie, and directed her around behind the Recreation Center instead. “Cooper might be watching.”

  I looked at her as she killed the engine. “Remember, we’re going to be legit this time. Nothing funny with George.”