Dead Case in Deadwood Read Online Free Page A

has an appointment with
a client up in Lead. You can reach her on her cell phone." Just when I
thought I’d sidestepped the Doc-noose, Natalie said, "So, you’re still
taking Doc coffee each morning?"
    "Yeah." Which was a nice, seemingly platonic way
to spend time with him right under her nose. As piece-of-shit best friends
went, I drew the most flies in all of the land. "I feel like I owe him a
month’s worth as thanks for taking a chance on a new Realtor."
    "Did he say anything about your outfit?"
    I lowered my eyes, unable to hold her gaze even through my
sunglasses while guilt chewed a hole in my gut. "Not really, why?"
    Natalie shrugged. "I’m just wondering if his lack of
interest in females extends to blondes, as well as brunettes." She patted
her brown locks. "Maybe if I dyed my hair red like his ex-girlfriend, he’d
start treating me like more than just a paying client."
    I didn’t want to think about Doc and his Jessica Rabbit-like
ex, Tiffany, who also happened to be a real estate agent in Spearfish—talk
about small freaking world. Just thinking about Miss Redhead made me want to do
very bad things to innocent bunnies. "Doc and I maintain a professional
relationship." In public.
    "It’s cool that you two are still friends now that the
house deal is done."
    "He’s easy to be around." And I was embarrassingly
"easy" when he was around. Crack whores probably played harder to get
than I did.
    Natalie’s chair creaked as she leaned forward and took a sip
of my caramel latte. "I didn’t think Doc was there this morning. His
blinds were closed when I drove by."
    Whew! That was close. Had Natalie been able to see inside,
she’d have caught him holding my hand. "I asked him to keep it shaded
because of my eyes."
    "Still burning?"
    "Big time."
    "Nightmares or more insomnia?"
    No use trying to hide anything from her, not with her
sleeping a couple of feet away from me every night. "A little bit of both."
    "Let me see."
    I flashed her a peek at my red-lined peepers.
    "Why don’t you wake me up?"
    "What good would that do? You’d just have a matching
set."
    "Vi, I’m supposed to be helping you get through this. I
can’t do that if you won’t tell me what’s going on in your head."
    As much as I loved Natalie, I hadn’t exactly asked for her
help. The unending slumber party was her idea, not mine. And the constant
poking, prodding, and concern about my feelings by one and all was starting to
make me grind my teeth.
    I appreciated that Natalie’s interest was born out of love
and caring, but her sitting on me like a mother hen day in and out was beginning
to make me feel smothered. Pretty soon, feathers would fly from my mouth when I
coughed.
    "What’s there to tell?" I said. "I have bad
dreams and trouble falling back to sleep afterward. This too shall pass; I just
need more time for my brain to cram this in a drawer and be done with it."
    "Well, your Aunt Zoe wants me to stay as long as you
need me, so until you kick me out, I’ll be by your side day and night."
    Swell. Wonderful. Terrific. I was so hosed.
    The front door whooshed open, letting in a rush of traffic
noise and hot August air. I looked up and my jaw unhinged at the sight of a tall,
gangly version of Abraham Lincoln standing just inside the threshold—top hat,
cane, and black suit jacket included.
    "Who in the hell …" Natalie’s whispered words
echoed the voice in my head. Was I seeing one of Doc’s ghosts?
    "I’m looking for Violet Parker," Abe said,
striding toward us, his cane banging on the wood floor, his bare, boney wrists
sticking out from his too-short jacket sleeves. He removed his top hat when he
stopped next to Natalie; his jet black hair matched his pointed goatee.
    "I’m Violet," I said after I’d dug my voice out of
the back of my throat where it had lodged itself.
    Was the circus in town?
    He slid his round sunglasses down his long, narrow nose.
Cornflower blue eyes peered out at me, their intensity startling me back