Free Meanwhile, Back in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 6) by Ann Charles Page A

heart about her? Wait, did Cooper even have a heart?
    Natalie patted him on the chest as she slipped by him and stepped over the threshold, completely missing that his gaze followed her inside.
    But I didn’t. Nor did I miss the warning that sharpened his steely gray eyes when he caught me catching him.
    “Move it, Parker.” There was no love left over for me, only snarls. “I have to be somewhere for lunch.”
    “So do I.” That was kind of a lie. I’d mentioned to Doc last night before he left that I might stop by his office at lunch if nothing came up, but Cooper brought out the need in me to have a pissing match. I indicated for him to lead the way inside. “Let’s get this cavity search over with.”
    Inside his house it smelled like bacon and cheese. My knees almost gave out from the heavenly aroma alone. Damn, I missed Harvey.
    Speaking of the ornery bird … Harvey stepped out of the kitchen as Natalie and I made ourselves comfortable on Cooper’s black leather couch. I took one look at Harvey’s skull and crossbones covered suspenders and smirked. “You’ve been living with your nephew too long.”
    “I’ve only been here two days.”
    I heard an indistinguishable grumble come from Cooper, and then he settled into the chair opposite us. He pulled out his notebook and clicked his pen a couple of times, raising both blond eyebrows at me. “Does that bother?”
    “You tell me after I cram it up your nose.”
    Harvey stepped between us, blocking my view. “Why’s your stinger already half out this mornin’, girlie?”
    “Blame your nephew.” My stomach growled at the smell of bacon grease coming off Harvey’s clothes. “You have any bacon left over?”
    “Nope. Coop finished it off when he came back home to wait for you two.”
    Thwarted again by the damned detective.
    “Scooch your cheeks over.” Harvey wedged his bony ass between Natalie and me. “All righty, Coop, we’re all here coolin’ our saddles. Let ‘er rip.”
    Cooper pointed his pen at Natalie. “Tell me again what happened Sunday morning, starting from the time you arrived outside of Uncle Willis’ house.”
    Natalie leaned her elbows on her knees and dug in. When she got to the part about the unlocked front door, Cooper stopped her with, “How did you know the door was open? According to the pictures Detective Hawke took, there were no indications the jamb of the door was forced or tampered with.”
    That was a suspicious question. “Why would you ask that?” I butted in. “Surely, you don’t think Nat had something to do with this whole mess.”
    “Ms. Beals was also the one who noticed the barn doors were no longer chained together, which is what led you three to find the dead body.” Cooper scribbled something on his notepad. “It’s my job to determine a coincidental discovery versus a manipulative redirection.”
    “In other words,” Natalie said, “did we really just stumble upon a faceless dead man, or did I sneak out there the day before, kill the guy, and then pretend to accidentally discover him along with Vi and your uncle the next day? Is that about right, Coop?”
    “There are several possibilities to consider.” Cooper avoided her stare.
    I jutted out my chin. “Nat’s no killer and you know it.”
    “I have fantasized about cutting off pieces of one or two of my ex-boyfriends, but never the face. That’s just twisted.”
    Harvey grunted. “And choppin’ off a man’s twig and berries isn’t?”
    She shrugged. “That depends on how much tequila I’ve downed before picking up the machete.”
    I shot Natalie a shut-it glare and then nudged my head toward Cooper, who was busy writing a novel on his notepad.
    “She could’ve aided and abetted,” Harvey pointed out.
    The bucket mouth let out an ‘oof’ when my elbow connected with his ribs. “Whose side are you on here?”
    “How did you know the front door was open?” Cooper returned to his original question, his pen poised above the