“If you’ll excuse us,” Rex said, “Violet and I were in the middle of something.” He reached for my arm, but I dodged him and took a step back.
“Did Mona find you your new place?” Ben pressed, moving partway between Rex and me, acting as a five-feet-eleven-sized wall. “Or did you go through another agent?”
Rex sighed and set his sights on Ben. “Neither.”
“Darn. I’m sorry Calamity Jane Realty wasn’t able to help you with your lodging issue.” Ben pretended to scratch his neck and waved me away in the process. “Was there an ad in the paper?”
I took another step backward.
“No. I met someone who had a place available to rent.”
“A local?” Ben dogged him.
“He claims he’s been here for a very long time.”
I started toward Calamity Jane’s door, happy to make my escape. I’d bring Ben a latte tomorrow morning as thanks.
“In fact …” Rex raised his voice, undoubtedly for my benefit. “My landlord knows Violet well and has a message he wanted me to give her when I saw her next.”
Curious, I paused and looked back.
“Who’s your landlord?” Ben asked before I did.
Rex’s smirk returned, even oilier than before. “Dominick Masterson.”
Alarm sirens whooped in my head.
Ben glanced at me with a slight frown before asking Rex, “You’re living at one of Mr. Masterson’s properties?”
“Actually, I’m living in the suite over his three-car garage.”
Shit on a hot tin roof! What were the odds of Dominick becoming bosom buddies with my ex by mere chance? Likely one in a billion.
I ground my molars at this new chess move by Dominick. What was that saying about enemies? Something about round them up, force-feed them a bushel of hot peppers, and make them share a portable toilet stocked with a single roll of one-ply toilet paper? No, not that one. The other one from the nineteenth-century German professor whom I’d learned about in college. Oh, yeah—the best weapon against an enemy is another enemy. Was that Dominick’s game plan?
“What’s Dominick’s message for me?”
“He said you’ve been on his mind a lot lately.”
That wasn’t a big surprise, since I was supposed to be catching that damned lidérc of his.
“And that he’s looking forward to your next meeting.” Rex lifted his chin and puffed out his chest, reminding me even more of what a toad he was. Actually, that would be an insult to toads.
“Is that it?” No threats to kidnap my aunt and lock her away in his love-slave dungeon for decades?
Rex deflated. “Were you expecting something more?” When I didn’t answer, his eyes widened for a second, and then a sneer settled on his lips. “How intimately do you know Dominick Masterson, Violet?”
Of course the jerk’s mind went straight to the gutter.
I shrugged as an answer. “Consider your job done, message boy.” To Ben, I asked, “You heading out for a while?”
“Yeah. I have a meeting with a potential client. Jerry is still down in Rapid City and Mona is on her way back from a meeting with one of the members of the Deadwood Historical Committee.” He looked toward Rex, who’d walked away and was unlocking his Jaguar. “You want me to stick around to make sure he leaves?” he said under his breath.
I shook my head. “He’s done throwing his weight around for now. Thanks for running interference.” With a quick wave, I headed for Calamity Jane’s back door.
Ten minutes later, I was still pondering what Dominick was up to when it came to Rex. Was he keeping my ex under his thumb because he knew about Rex’s potential to derail me via my children? Or was he stockpiling people connected to me like some kind of living chess game? Was this a sort of backup insurance in case I tried to weasel out of catching his lidérc? Or did he believe that Rex mattered to me on some level and was trying to undermine me? If it was the latter, the joke was on Dominick. As far as I was concerned, he could turn Rex into a pillar of salt. At least then I could make use of him at the dinner table in lieu of child support when it came to keeping my kids fed.
While I tried to decipher the meaning behind Dominick’s message, the sound of someone coming in the back door made me stiffen. Rex better not have changed his mind about leaving me be. I palmed my stapler, ready for round two.
The clacking of boot heels followed soon after, along with the sweet smell of jasmine—Mona Hollister’s calling card. I set my stapler down.
She dropped her keys on her desk. “How was your late lunch with Detective Cooper? Is he interested in any of the listings you showed him?”
I’d sort of fibbed to her earlier about my meeting with Cooper this afternoon and excluded mentioning Harvey altogether. Mona knew a few things about my crazy other life, but only the ghosts and séances stuff. I hadn’t let her in on how I faced off with monsters of all sorts and beat them to smithereens with whatever weapon I could get my hands on in the heat of the moment—an old rifle, a crowbar, a war hammer, or my new mace, which I had yet to try out on an actual troublemaker.
I looked over at my auburn-haired coworker. Dressed in a form-fitting, gold sweater dress and a leopard print cashmere scarf that matched her leopard print boots, she managed to look both sophisticated and wild at the same time. Someday I hoped to reach Mona’s level of “adulting,” but for now I’d settle for managing not to spill coffee or cookie crumbs down my shirt for one whole week.
“I think Cooper is holding out for a place like Doc’s.” Which was where Cooper was living for now, along with his uncle and Red, Harvey’s lazy yellow Labrador. Meanwhile, Doc was playing house with me and my kids at my aunt’s place.
“Homes like
