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“It’s a date. With any luck, we’ll both have lots of juicy details to share by then.”
“Definitely.”IfI was still breathing after my dates with Ted Bundy and the Son of Sam.
We shared goodbyes and I hung up to find Ray off the phone and grinning at me.
I scowled at him. “What?”
His grin spread toward his ears. “I’m just imagining what you’ll look like wearing a McDonald’s uniform.”
“Jesus, Sunshine,” Mona said, disgust lacing her tone. “Can’t you just lay off Violet for one day?”
“I’d sooner lay on her, but I don’t dawdle with the help.” He laughed at his own joke. “Although, she’d probably fill out a French maid uniform nicely—in the hips, anyway. Those miracle bras do wonders.” He winked at me. “You should try one.”
I reached for my cup, planning to poach his trouser trout with some steaming coffee, but I heard Jane’s office door open just as my finger wrapped around the handle.
“Violet,” she said, “are you available this afternoon?”
I carved a smile onto my cheeks. “Sure.”
“I need your help. The old Sugarloaf building in Lead is for sale. I want to know more about it. Can you run over to the library and see what you can dig up?” She held out a Post-It with an address on it.
Oh, God, the end was near. Jane was using me as her personal errand girl now. Shouldering my purse, I stood and took the address from her. “Will do.”
“I have an appointment in Sturgis this afternoon, so just leave whatever you find on my desk.”
I followed Jane into the hallway that led to her office and the back door, flipping Ray the bird behind my back as I walked. The sound of him blowing me a kiss almost made me turn around and go poke him in the eyes Three-Stooges style, but I straightened my shoulders and stormed to my Bronco instead.
During the short ride to the library, I practiced perfecting my comebacks and insults for my next round in the ring with Ray. The sight of Doc’s Camaro parked in front of the library made me frown. I pulled in behind it. What washedoing here—again?
Doc had recovered from his allergic reaction at Harvey’s after a glass of lemonade, but he’d stuck to the porch swing the rest of the visit, requesting a rain check on Harvey’s offer to show him the house. Harvey had supplied a plate of cold-cut sandwiches for lunch, and later handed off a thick folder to Doc as we climbed into the Camaro.
Our trip back to Deadwood had been filled with lots of useless small talk on my part about Aunt Zoe’s glass shop—the only neutral subject I could think of to pass the time since Doc had made it clear back on the porch swing that he wasn’t going to elaborate on his so-called allergy issues no matter how much I prodded him.
I climbed out of my Bronco and ascended the concrete stairs. The century-old library greeted me with the smell of wood varnish and musty paper. I paused inside the threshold, counting three other patrons lounging in chairs. Miss Plum, the young brunette from my last visit, was nowhere to be seen—neither was any other official-looking person, thank God. With my hide still stinging from Ray’s sharp teeth, I felt about as sociable as a hemophiliac at a vampire convention.
Stealing across the creaky wood floor, I pushed open the door to the South Dakota records room. Doc looked up from the table as I stepped inside. I held my finger to my lips, shushing him until the door clicked closed behind me.
He leaned back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled. “Are you on another top-secret mission, Special Agent V?”
“Maybe.” I glanced down at the book laid out on the table before him—theRegister of Deathsagain, this time spread open and splayed across a large map. “What are you looking at?”
Doc’s smile slipped a little around the edges, but he didn’t try to hide anything as I leaned over the table. “Just some local history.”
“That’s right.” I remembered the thick, Wild Bill Hickok book. “You’re a big history nut.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“What part of the hills is this?” I bent over the USGS topographical map, tucking some loose curls behind my ear as I scanned the curvy contour lines.
“North Central.” He scooted forward, nudged my arm aside, and touched a spot near the left edge. “Here’s Custer Peak.”
“And there’s Harvey’s place.” I pictured his place in my mind, orienting myself, and noticed a mark on the contoured hill behind where Harvey’s barn was located. “What’s this sideways Y symbol mean?”
“A cave opening or mine tunnel.”
I thought about Harvey’s “funny noises.” Was something living in the cave or mine above his barn? Was that what’d left the deer carcass behind?
“What’s wrong?”
