I refocused on the building, catching sight of Hawke returning to his truck and climbing inside.
Two minutes later, he was still sitting there with exhaust steam coming out of the tailpipe.
“Maybe he just needed to use the bathroom,” I said.
“He could’ve done that back at work.”
“He might have a shy bladder.”
“That was longer than taking a piss.”
“Can you have a shy colon?”
Natalie made a gagging sound. “We really need to find a new hobby.”
“You’re the one who …” I trailed off at the sight of a familiar Jeep pulling up next to Hawke’s pickup. “Holy shit! Is that who I think it is?”
Sure enough, Tiffany Sugarbell crawled out of her Jeep, looking like a cute snow bunny in her white fluffy hat and matching puffy jacket and furry boots—the two-bit whore. She glanced around suspiciously and then climbed into Hawke’s pickup.
“What the hell?” Natalie gaped at the scene.
“Why would Hawke be talking to her?”
“Maybe he needs a real estate agent.”
“Sure, and she’s decided that meeting clients in an empty parking lot next to the Mickelson Trail at night is a good sales technique.” I scoffed. “Don’t let Jerry catch wind of this. He’ll have me hanging out in parking lots to meet potential clients, too, like one of those ‘hot lizard’ prostitutes at truck stops.”
Natalie chuckled. “You mean ‘lot lizard.’ On the bright side, Jerry would have to buy you a new wardrobe for each season.”
I set the sodden scarf down on my leg and played with the focus knob of the binoculars. “Can you see anything going on inside of his truck?”
“Oh yeah,” she said sarcastically. “It looks to me like she’s playing the rusty trombone.”
“The what?”
“You know, she’s giving him some beef stroke-me-off.”
“Oh.” Now I understood. “That trombone line is silly. I expect something more clever from the girl who once out trash-talked a sleazy carnie from Chicago at the Blue Moon bar in Rapid.”
“More clever, huh? How about she’s giving him a chicken wrap?”
“Lame.”
“Some pulled pork?”
“That’s even worse.”
“A Kansas City slider?”
“That’s a little better.”
“A Memphis dry rub?”
I laughed. “I’ll have to borrow that one.”
“A Florida handshake.”
“How do you remember all of these?”
“I store them away with all of the other important things in life and get rid of crap like algebra and how many tablespoons go into a cup.”
“It’s good to know where your priorities lie.” I leaned closer to the windshield. “Can you really see what they’re doing in there?”
“Of course not, spaz. I left my bionic eye back in my apartment.”
Hawke’s passenger door opened. Tiffany stepped out and straightened her hat.
“That was quick.”
Instead of climbing back into her Jeep, she walked over to the little building and went inside.
“What in the ever-lovin’ hell is going on?” I asked.
“Maybe she needed to clean up afterward.”
“Gross,” I said. “That was fast, if so.”
“You’ve seen Hawke. He’s pretty uptight. Might not take her long to work out his kinks.”
“Tiffany is quite a looker.”
“You mean ‘hooker.’ ”
We both started giggling. By the time we’d settled down again, Tiffany walked out of the building, rounded the front of Hawke’s pickup, climbed in her Jeep, and drove away.
“Hmm,” I said.
“I second that.”
Hawke shifted into reverse and headed back toward Deadwood.
“Should we follow?” Natalie asked.
I checked my phone for the time. “I can’t. I need to get home. Reid’s cooking tonight and I promised I’d be there to make sure Aunt Zoe doesn’t fill him full of lead before he finishes.”
“No shit.” She packed away her binoculars. “Zoe is allowing Reid to come over? Is she serving community time for something?”
“She has a big glass order.”
“Ahh, she’s contracting out cooking supper, and Reid was probably only too happy to volunteer.”
“Yep.” I handed her the binoculars I’d been using. “You’re joining us, aren’t you?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“Is Coop going to be there?”
“There’s a 50-50 chance he’ll show.”
She frowned. “I’d better not risk it then. I’ll head home and listen through the vent some more.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah.” She started the pickup and shifted into gear.
We stopped at the small building Hawke and Tiffany had both visited and found nothing besides two restrooms that looked clean. No funny smells, either. After we were back on the road heading toward Deadwood, I asked, “What should I tell Cooper if he wonders why you aren’t there?”
“Tell him that I’m under the weather.”
“I told him that last night and he’d glared at me as if I’d given his favorite gun away to charity.”
“Tell him the truth then.”
“You mean that you’re afraid of falling head over heels for him, so you’re using Hawke as a scapegoat to avoid seeing him tonight?”
She reached over and pinched my thigh.
“Yowch! Take it easy, sheesh. I already got beaten up by a dead woman today.”
“Weenie.” Her frown returned as she steered into the parking lot behind Calamity Jane’s. “You know, on second thought, don’t tell Coop anything.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve changed my mind. It’s time to deal with the fallout from Arizona. What should I bring for dessert?”
Chapter Six
Aunt Zoe’s house was lit up like a beacon, guiding me to the safe haven within its walls after an afternoon of being battered at sea and left to sink or limp into port.
Two things greeted me as soon as I stepped inside the front door—first, the heavenly smell of cooked tomatoes and spices; second, an ornery old man.
The latter didn’t even give me time to shuck my coat before blurting out, “What in tarnation happened to your face?”
“Shhhh.” Harvey didn’t need to make a big deal out of a little bruise. I held out my arm for him to pull off my coat sleeve. “I ran into an elbow.”
He tugged my arm free. “You should watch where you’re goin’. You look like the back end of bad luck.”
I felt like the front end of a snow plow. “Thanks for picking up my kids after school,” I said as he pulled my other arm free.
“Happy to help. Whose elbow was it?”
“Zelda’s, but
