Free Dead Case in Deadwood by Ann Charles Page A

money hidden on
Harvey’s ranch and Cornelius had some way of figuring out the general vicinity where
Harvey should dig? Wasn’t that worth baiting Cornelius a little with the
promise of another ghost and taking him on a mini-road trip out to Harvey’s
ranch?
    No, that was just too desperate.
    True, but could it really hurt to give it a try?
    I chewed on my lower lip, torn between my sensibilities and
my need for food and shelter for me and mine.
    My cell phone rang. Doc? I wondered what he’d think
about Harvey’s request.
    I grabbed my cell phone. Nope. The screen displayed Natalie’s
name. "Hello?"
    "Hey, girlfriend, I’m tied up down here in Rapid."
    "Were you abducted this time or is it voluntary again?"
    Natalie chuckled. "It’s voluntary, but not as fun as
last time. I’m still dressed."
    "Oh, well, maybe next time. Do you need my help?"
It would be a good excuse to swing in down at my parents and grab my kids
without being obvious about getting them away from my sister.
    "No, I’m good. I didn’t want you guys to wait for me
for supper tonight. I probably won’t be home until after eight."
    Two things bugged me about that.
    First, I didn’t like how she was beginning to think of Aunt
Zoe’s place as home. While I loved Nat, I loved her better when she didn’t
share my bedroom.
    Second, I needed her tonight. There was a viewing at the
Mudder Brothers, and she was my ticket in.
    I’d just have to figure out some other way to sneak into
Mudder Brothers without George thinking I was some kind of nutty funeral-home
junkie. "Leftovers will be in the fridge."
    "Save me a beer. I’m gonna need it after this shitty
day."
    She and I both.
    I hung up and smiled wide at Aunt Zoe. "You feel like
paying your respects to a recently deceased member of the community tonight?"
    Her eyes narrowed. "I can’t. I have to finish that
order for the Denver gallery tonight."
    Well, crap.
    "Whose funeral?" Aunt Zoe asked, still
eagle-eyeing me.
    Squirming a little, I tried to remember the name of the
guest of honor.
    "Are you talking about Elsa Haskell’s viewing?"
Harvey asked.
    That was it. "Yes!" I said with too much excitement.
I tried to frown a little and do my best sad-faced impression, but going by the
pinch of Aunt Zoe’s lips, she wasn’t buying my act.
    "How did you know Elsa Haskell?" Aunt Zoe was
digging her claws in; I could feel them. Shit.
    Aunt Zoe didn’t know anything about my obsession with George
Mudder and Ray. If she did, she would chew my ass up one cheek and down the
other like it was an ear of corn.
    I pushed away from the table and carried my empty lemonade
glass to the sink so I could hide my tell-tale, twitchy nose. "Elsa was a
friend of Jane’s. I’m going out of support for my boss."
    "You’re attending a viewing in order to further your
career?" she asked.
    If my catching Ray in the act of a crime could get his
chauvinistic ass fired, then yes, I was. "Maybe."
    Harvey snorted. "Elsa would have liked your spunk. She
was into burning her bras and wearing short skirts long before it was the hip
thing to do."
    "You knew her?" I asked.
    "Sure. She was a ways ahead of me in school, but I used
to try to peek up her skirt when she was shaking her pom-pons at the high
school football games. Her sweaters were like a second layer of skin."
    Aunt Zoe chuckled. "That never changed. I ran into her
last month in the Piggly Wiggly. She’d left the price tag on her bra, and I
could see the shape of it through her way-too-tight shirt."
    I crossed my arms over my own too-snug dress and stared at the
president of the peanut gallery. Harvey by my side at a viewing? That just
might work. He was well-known around town, so there’d be no question as to why
I was there. And if I needed a distraction, a dirty old man with a trick hip who
still liked to look up women’s skirts would fit the bill.
    "Harvey, how do you feel about going to Elsa’s viewing
with me tonight?"
    He hesitated, then slapped the table.