Free An Ex to Grind in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 5) Paperback – September 4, 2014 by Ann Charles

morning and fill her feed bowl. You know what happens if you don’t follow through on your word, right?”
    Addy gulped the last of her juice, scooped up her plate, and deposited it in the sink on her way over to the basement door. “Don’t leave without me, Harvey.”
    “You better get those tail feathers moving, kid,” he said, pretending to chase after her with the spatula.
    With my children gone, peace and quiet returned to my world. I covered my face. “I’m a shitty mother.”
    “What are you jawin’ about?” I heard the chair Addy had left scrape back and then creak. I peeked out as Harvey began scooping forkfuls of pancake into his mouth.
    “You are not a shitty mother,” Aunt Zoe said, reaching over and tugging my hands away from my face.
    “Baloney! In seconds, you were able to redirect their aggression and get them busy doing tasks that I have to tell them to do five times before they even acknowledge I’m speaking.”
    “It’s only because I’m not you. Kids are wired not to hear what their parents are saying half of the time.”
    “Make that ninety-nine percent of the time,” I corrected.
    “Those two kids are lucky to have you,” Harvey said.
    I raised my eyebrows. “Was that an actual compliment, old man?”
    “Yemph,” he spoke through pancake then washed it down with a gulp of coffee. “But don’t get used to it. Your noggin’ is big enough with all of that hair.”
    “Leave my hair out of it.” I pinched his arm. “You sure you have time to take the kids to school today?”
    “You mean in between shoving food in my mouth here and listening to the birds?”
    “Don’t you need to go out to your ranch, take care of your herd or something like that?”
    “I already did that. Some of us don’t wait for the sun to rise to get our lazy asses out of bed.”
    “Violet,” Aunt Zoe traced the rim of her coffee cup with her finger. “I was looking through my old German dictionary last night.”
    “Why do you have a German dictionary?” Had she taken German in school? Her grandmother had taught her Latin, but this was the first I’d heard anything about German. Then again, Aunt Zoe had been dropping bombs about her past lately, surprising me with truths and events that I hadn’t a clue existed … until now.
    “That’s not important.” She deadpanned me, making me feel like I’d sworn to tell the truth and nothing but the truth. “What did you say Ms. Wolff said on the phone?”
    “Which part?”
    “After the word nein .”
    I shrugged. “It sounded something like shark trickster .”
    “Or did it sound like Scharfrichter ?”
    I repeated what she said slowly, trying to replay Ms. Wolff’s voice at the same time in my head. “Shahf-riks-ter. Shark trickster.” I frowned up at her. “That could have been it. What does it mean?”
    “Executioner.”
    “What? That makes no sense.” I crossed my arms over my chest, thinking back to more of the conversation. “That would mean that when she said she wanted to talk to me about what I am, and I asked if we’d met before, she’d replied with, ‘No, Executioner.’”
    Aunt Zoe nodded. Harvey’s brows merged into one long bushy caterpillar.
    “Are you sure that’s not the German word for Realtor?” I asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Could it be some kind of urban slang word for a prostitute?”
    Harvey smirked. “Now why would she be callin’ you a prostitute, girl? You think she spends her nights sittin’ next to Jeff Wymonds?”
    I wrinkled my nose at Harvey. “I wish you’d never heard him proposition me that day.”
    He grinned. “I wouldn’t have missed that for a free beer and a poke.”
    Aunt Zoe frowned at me. “This worries me, Violet.”
    “That an old confused woman called me an executioner?”
    “Oh, I don’t think she was confused at all.”
    “What do you think? This is my new reputation? First there was Spooky Parker, then Four-Alarm Parker, and now Sharf trickster Parker?”
    “ Scharfrichter ,”