My neck warmed. Of course Cooper would have to join our conversation right when the topic of penises was being bandied about.
I held out my middle finger in the direction of the Deadwood police station and tapped out a reply to Cooper with my other hand: My phallic fest urges is aimed at you now, Detective Spoilsport.
Doc replied: Keep your phallic fest urges in your pants, Killer.
I frowned at his message. My what?
Then I looked up at the line I’d texted to Cooper and cursed at what was supposed to be the words phallic gesture. Stupid freaking autocorrect!
Cooper: Parker! Don’t make me come over there.
Harvey wrote again: Hoo, baby! This is better than getting one-eyed willy pics from the blue-haired babes at the senior center.
Me: And that’s our show today, boys. Over and gout!
Me: Over add our!
Me: An hour!
Me: Gahhhhh. Never mind.
I set my cell phone facedown on my desk, glaring at it. “I don’t like the words you put in my mouth.”
A gust of wind whistled outside, making the silver maple trees across the street at the courthouse whip back and forth. Small branches tumbled along Sherman Street, caught in the flurry, as the building around me creaked and groaned. I sat up, lowering my boots to the floor, and frowned toward Jerry’s office. Light spilled from his open doorway into the hall, no creepy blinking lights or weird shadows to be seen.
My shoulders still tense, I sat back in my chair and picked up my phone again. Another half hour and I could skip on home, change out of my wool dress pants and silk blouse, and slip back into my loose and comfy yoga wear.
I pulled up Natalie’s phone number. I could call her and ask for the juicy details on what had happened with Cooper last night after they left Aunt Zoe’s house. Well, maybe not the real “juicy” stuff, since it was Cooper we were talking about and I didn’t want to ruin my appetite for whatever bacon-flavored dish Harvey might be making for supper.
A gunshot banged behind me—at least that was what it sounded like.
I screeched and nearly fell out of my chair. In my haste to scramble to my feet, I dropped my phone, which slid under my desk. Leaving it be for now, I tiptoed to the end of the well-lit hallway. The old oak floorboards creaked under my boots, tattling about my whereabouts.
“Who’s there?” I called, sounding a little croaky since my mouth had gone dry. My pulse throbbed in my ears, making it hard to hear much over the whooshing sound of blood rushing this way and that in a panic.
Nobody answered me, but it looked like Jerry’s door was closed now. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad. Chewing on my lower lip, I tried to decide if I should investigate further or just pack it up and call it a day.
“Don’t be such a chicken,” I whispered to myself.
“Kiss my ass,” I whispered back.
Common sense told me the slamming door was a combination of the wind and the heating vents causing weird drafts. It wasn’t the first time a random door had closed in this place. In the summer, when the air conditioning kicked on, the bathroom door would shut on its own sometimes, too.
But still …
I listened for footfalls or floorboard creaks coming from Jerry’s office, but heard nothing.
Yeah, it must have been the wind. But just in case it wasn’t, I decided to clear the air. “Jane, if that door slam was your doing, please stop messing with me. I’ve had enough scares already for one day.”
Trying not to think about the Hellhole or that red-armed monster with the sharp talons, I returned to my desk and picked up my mug to wet my dry mouth. The tea was cold now, tasting more like hay than mint. Outside, twilight filled the sky with soft but chilly shades of pink. Another gust knocked ice and small branches from the trees. A snowplow rolled up to the three-way stop out on Sherman Street, its bright yellow lights flashing through the front plate windows and bouncing off the whiteboards.
Dropping onto my hands and knees, I reached under my desk for my cell phone. On the way back up, I bonked the back of my head on the underside of my desk. Cursing, I returned to my chair and stared down at the screen.
I pulled up Natalie’s number. My thumb hovered over the screen, but then I glanced up at the video camera again. Calling Natalie for details on last night would have to wait until I got home. I didn’t need Cornelius listening in via the fancy microphones he had stashed all over the office. Cooper would shoot me for sure if he found out Cornelius had the inside scoop on any of his makeout stakeouts.
I glanced back at Jerry’s door again. Should I text Cornelius about it closing on its own? Check if he saw anything in Jerry’s office before the door slammed shut?
After mulling it over, I looked up at the camera in the corner again and decided not to text him. Cornelius would have let me know if he’d seen anything in Jerry’s office or picked up anything strange on one of his expensive ghost-monitoring devices.
Sitting back, I tapped my knuckles on the desk. It had to be the wind. Those old windows in Jerry’s office weren’t the most efficient. If I went in there, I’d probably hear them whistling away.
After shifting in my chair several times, I pushed up and out of it and walked over to the coffee station. I started tidying the area around it, thinking about our return to Aunt Zoe’s house after leaving Prudence’s …
We’d dropped off Harvey at Doc’s house on our way back. He was feeling a bit stuffed and sleepy after all of those
