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CHAPTER18
Irocketed through three Stop signs on the way to Aunt Zoe’s, every muscle trembling, my hands clenched on the steering wheel. Addy’s sweet, freckled face filled my head, fear for her life fueled my panic. I skidded into the driveway and scrambled out of the driver’s seat before the engine stopped sputtering.
Harvey burst through Aunt Zoe’s screen door. “Let’s go!”
“Where?” He caught me off guard. I had expected Aunt Zoe’s worry-lined brow, not Harvey’s grizzled cheeks.
“You tell me.” He rounded the front of the Bronco. “Where does Addy like to hang out?”
“Ummm,” I struggled to wrap my brain around his question while climbing back into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition key.
His hand clamped on my arm. “Violet, look at me.”
I obeyed, my chest heaving, as if I’d sprinted all the way from downtown Deadwood.
“Take a deep breath,” Harvey ordered.
I tried, but fear seemed to have my lungs locked in a bear hug. “I can’t,” I gasped.
Harvey pinched the back of my upper arm—hard.
“Owwww!” My eyes watered from the sharp pain. I slapped his hand away and rubbed my stinging skin. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Where does Addy like to hang out?”
“The Rec Center.”
“Then let’s start there.”
Oh. Now I understood. I shifted into reverse, my arm still throbbing. “You didn’t have to pinch so damned hard.”
“I’d have slapped your ass, but you were sitting on it.”
Yet another reason to keep my head tied to my shoulders at all times around Harvey. “Why were you at Aunt Zoe’s?”
“I wasn’t. I was at Beatrice’s fiddling with her … uh … her plumbing.”
That explained the lipstick smudge on his earlobe.
“Your aunt sent Layne over to get me. Wanted me to help you search for Addy while she stayed home with Layne—in case Addy returns.”
We rolled into the Rec Center parking lot a minute later. Harvey caught up with me in the lobby, where I stood scanning the Sign-In register. I wiped away the sweat dewing on my upper lip.
“Is she here?” Harvey asked.
“No, but Doc is.” He’d signed in at three o’clock, just five minutes ago. I’d seen him slink out the back door of the Purple Door Saloon when I’d been giving my “call you later” spiel to Jeff after our long lunch.
“I’ll go get him,” Harvey said.
“Why?”
“He can help us look.”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s to know? With this thing going on between you two, he’ll want to help.”
“There’s nothing going on between us.” Doc was making sure of that.
