Natalie’s cousins were the rabble-rousing Morgan sisters whom I’d lived next to in Rapid City while growing up. Even when they were young, the three fireballs had a knack for hunting trouble with a big gun, and when they found it, kicking ass until someone’s teeth fell out.
“Knowing the shenanigans Claire, Kate, and Ronnie tend to get mixed up in,” I said, “I’m sure some time with them would get your mind off men.”
“And probably land me in the pokey down there while I’m at it.”
“That, too.” I squeezed her hand. “Come on, let’s go give Cornelius my present and Doc’s key so we can hit the road before it takes stealing a snowplow to escape the hills.”
Natalie and I trekked through the snow to the back door leading to the second floor of Calamity Jane Realty’s office building. We kicked the slush off our boots on the downstairs mat and then tromped up the stairs with plenty of commotion so Cornelius would hear us coming.
At the top of the stairs, I could hear polka music throbbing through the door.
I knocked hard, trying to make myself heard over the trumpets and accordions.
He didn’t answer.
“Now what?” I asked the slab of wood. Maybe I could just slip the key under the door.
Natalie reached around me and turned the knob. The door swung open. “How about that, brainiac?”
“Showoff.” I hesitated on the threshold. “Knowing Cornelius, he might be running around naked.” Seeing the Abe Lincoln doppelganger’s nether regions would probably melt my eyeballs.
“Please,” Natalie said. “If you’ve seen one penis, you’ve seen them all.”
I gawked at her. “Not true. I’ve seen my fair share of jangly bits both up close and in movies, and so far each one has been like a snowflake.”
Her lips twitched. “You mean cold and wet?”
I wrinkled my nose. “I mean unique, smartass. Maybe we need to look into getting you some glasses. This sabbatical from sex may be affecting your vision.” I held my hand up in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
She knocked my hand away. “My vision is fine. But if we don’t stop that damned polka music, my ears are going to bleed.” Natalie led the way inside.
I followed, wincing at the music blaring throughout the large, open studio apartment.
“Cornelius!” I yelled above the yodeling.
Natalie rushed to the stereo and turned it off. “Try again.”
I moved to the closed bathroom door, hearing the sound of the shower running on the other side. “Cornelius?” I called.
The water turned off. Shower curtain rings rattled.
“Brace yourself,” I warned Natalie and pounded on the bathroom door. I squinted as I waited, hoping to avoid the sight of his bare twig and berries. “Cornelius, it’s Violet. I brought you Doc’s other spare key.”
“Violet who?” he called through the door.
I rolled my eyes. He and I had played this knock-knock game before, usually at the butt crack of dawn at an ear-ringing decibel level through my cell phone. He knew damned well who I was. “I also brought you a present.”
The door opened so fast that I yipped and jumped back.
“A present, you say?”
I winced in anticipation of an eyeful of Cornelius in his birthday suit, but he walked out fully dressed in black jeans and a bright orange sweater, smelling minty fresh. His goatee appeared less pointy than usual, but his bright cornflower blue eyes were as sharp as ever.
I scratched my head. “How’d you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Get dressed so fast.”
“What makes you think I’m dressed?”
“But … I …” Shaking off my stupor, I gave up. “You know what, never mind.”
“I heard there was a problem with your flight to Vegas,” Natalie said, setting his present that she’d carried for me on the café-style table in his kitchen alcove.
“Not the flight.”
“What then?” I asked.
“The numbers.”
I followed him to the kitchen. “You mean the flight times?”
“No, the flight numbers. They were unlucky.”
I crossed my arms. “You mean you cancelled your trip home because you didn’t like the flight’s numbers?”
“Of course,” he said it as if that were a common happenstance with airline travelers.
“Why did you book it in the first place if you didn’t like the numbers?” I had a feeling I was tumbling down a rabbit hole here, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“My original flight was changed. The new numbers were unacceptable, so I opted out of flying to my death and decided to hole up here among Deadwood’s ghosts for the time being.”
In other words, he was going to stay in this apartment for Christmas. Alone. Well, alone if you didn’t count any spirits that might be swirling about.
My heart smarted at the forlorn image of Cornelius sitting in front of his bank of monitors for the next couple of days while the snow piled up outside. Who would go get him his favorite protein drinks if he ran out?
He pointed at the box Natalie had set on the table. “What’s that?”
I picked it up and held it out to him. “Your present. Open it.”
His brow wrinkled. “What’s the occasion?”
“I was aiming for Christmas.”
“That’s the one with the flying reindeer, right?”
“And the big guy in the red suit. Do you not celebrate Christmas?” Hadn’t he been planning to fly home for the holidays? Maybe he celebrated Hanukkah or Kwanza or something else related to the Voodoo religion since his grandmother had been a renowned seer from Louisiana. Or maybe, based on his Halloween-like outfit, he didn’t partake in any of the holidays this time of year.
“In the past, yes.” He took the present from me.
“Why don’t you celebrate it anymore?” Natalie asked.
“The dead don’t like to be reminded of this particular holiday.” He tore off a strip of the wrapping paper.
I glanced around, wondering if we had any ghostly visitors watching us at this moment. While I had my moments in the paranormal sun here and there, most days I was in the dark when it came to actually being able to spot a ghost.
My focus
