Chapter Sixteen

“My husband?”

The guy pointed a pudgy finger at the envelope in my hand. “I was told it’s all explained in there for you.”

The gears in my brain ground on his words. In particular, it was still trying to make sense of the word husband. Was this something to do with Rex and his attempt to blackmail me into playing “family” with him so he could land that stupid job promotion? But why would he play dead?

“You’re a widow,” he added, as if that cleared up everything for me.

It didn’t. Not even a teeny-tiny bit.

I stuffed the envelope inside the front of his coat.

“Nope.” I rejected him and his envelope.

“What? Wait!” he said as I shut the door in his face.

“Violet?” Dad called from the other room.

I looked toward the dining room. My left eye started twitching.

I had a husband.

A dead husband.

How had I managed that? Shouldn’t I remember getting married? Had there been tequila involved?

I turned back to the front door. Was I dreaming?

I opened the door again.

The round man with the furry Russian hat still stood there. He smiled, his walrus moustache curving with his cheeks. “Hi again.” He held up the envelope. “You want this back?”

Not really, but I took the envelope anyway. “Who are you again?”

“A private investigator hired to find Violet Parker.”

Nope, this wasn’t Rex. He knew where I lived.

I looked down at the envelope with my name on it. “I think you have the wrong Violet Parker.”

He flipped open a notepad and held it up for me to see. “Is that your Social Security number?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have the right Violet Parker.” His gaze measured me up and down. “Although I thought you’d be taller from the description I was given. And brunette.”

Tall and brunette?

An inferno erupted in my chest.

Susan!

What had the two-bit trollop done now?

The flames spread to my fingers and toes with wildfire speed. I could almost feel the smoke billowing from my ears as the blaze moved north.

“Violet?” Mom called this time. “Who’s at the door?”

On the verge of spontaneous combustion, I tried to find something positive to focus on to cool my core before I hit nuclear meltdown mode. What was that old Elvis quote Aunt Zoe liked to say? Something about when things went wrong in life, find the bitch responsible and bury her six foot under in the backyard?

No, that wasn’t it.

Ah, screw it. I was going to have to improvise.

“Have you had Christmas dinner?” I asked the short version of Magnum, P.I.

“Uh, no. Are you okay?” He pointed at my face. “Your left eye looks a little buggered up.”

“It’s quite possible I’m having a stroke.” I grabbed him by the shoulder and hauled him inside the foyer. “Why don’t you join us at the table? We’re getting ready to eat.”

“I … well … I don’t think … I mean …” He wiped his boots on the doormat.

“Great. Let’s get this off of you.” I tossed his furry hat over my shoulder. “We’ll be right there,” I hollered to my parents.

“Listen, lady. I really don’t think—”

“Neither does my sister,” I said in a terse whisper. “She acts on her emotions.” I unbuttoned his coat. “My mom explained it all to me at the minimart earlier.”

“She did?” He frowned behind his big mustache as I tugged his coat off his shoulders.

“And while I’d like to fill my sister’s head with cannon balls and powder her behind,” I continued, echoing Johnny Horton’s line from “The Battle of New Orleans,” “Mom says Susan needs our love and support.” I wadded his coat into a ball and stuffed it under the shoe bench, kicking it once for good measure.

He shot a worried glance at his coat and then back at me. “Love and support are always good things.”

“You’d think so, but here you are with that envelope.” I smiled extra wide, stretching my whole face to fit it all in.

He cringed. “You could scare children with that face.”

“Wonderful. Let’s go eat.” I grabbed his wrist and dragged him into the dining room.

Upon arrival, all eyes focused on me and my new guest.

“Hello, everyone. I’d like you to meet Mr. …” I turned to him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name?”

“Peabody. Norman D. Peabody.”

“Norman D. Peabody it is. He’s a private investigator who’s come bearing sad news on this joyous day.”

“Violet,” Mom said, half-rising, her expression lined with concern. “You’re frightening me with that face. Please stop smiling.”

“I’m just trying to remain positive, Mother. Nobody likes a Negative Nelly, especially on Christmas.”

Dad caught my mom’s hand and pulled her back to her seat. His expression matched Mom’s. “What sad news, Goldilocks?”

I held up the envelope with my name and focused on my sister. “Apparently, my husband has died.”

To her credit, Susan didn’t even flinch.

My mother, on the other hand, swooned. She would have fallen out of her chair if Dad hadn’t caught her. She’d definitely earn an Emmy at this year’s awards ceremony for Outstanding Guest Performer in a Drama Series.

It took a second—or five—for everyone else to pick their jaws up off the table.

“Husband?” Aunt Zoe repeated. Apparently, she was struggling with that word the same as I had.

“Holy wedlock!” Harvey said through a mouthful of dinner roll.

“When did Mom get married?” Addy asked her brother.

Layne frowned at me. “Was he our real dad?”

“Is this some kind of practical joke?” Natalie looked back and forth between Peabody and me and then toward the front door. “Is Quint hiding in the foyer?”

“It’s no joke,” Mr. Peabody said. “I’ve been trying to get hold of Violet Parker for a couple of weeks, but she wouldn’t return my calls from the number listed or reply to my letters sent to the post office box I’d been given. I figured Christmas Day would be my best chance to catch her in person at her parents’ known address.”

“And he was right.” I shot Cooper a smirk. “Maybe the Deadwood Police Department should hire him to replace your barking partner.”

Reid crossed his arms. “What’s the cause of death?”

Good question. I hadn’t even gotten that far yet what with still trying to digest that I had somehow gotten married.

“I hope you have an alibi for this one, Parker,” Cooper said, aiming a smirk right back at me.

“This can’t be happening,” my mom said, her voice wavering.

“Denial is the first stage of grief,” Cornelius pointed out. “Will somebody pass me the mushroom caps?”

“Oh, hell. Here we go again.” Dad pushed away from the table. “Anyone else need a drink?”

“Violet.” Doc stood and pulled out my chair. “Maybe you should come sit down.”

I shook my head at him. There was no way I could think about eating at the moment with the way my gut was burning. It was all I could do not to open my mouth and blast my sister with a fireball of rage. “If you all would please make our guest feel welcome, I’d appreciate it. You know, ‘tis the season and all that Christmas spirit shit.”

Before I said something I’d regret later, I left the room and made a beeline for the front door, grabbing my snow boots on the way. I didn’t even bother with a coat. I was so hot under the collar that I’d probably melt all of the snow in a one-block radius.

Once outside, I tore open the envelope and scanned the contents. My hands trembled as I read, and then my vision turned red. Huffing like I was heading into labor, I looked up and saw the snowwoman Addy had made decorated with Susan’s scarf and hat.

“Perfect!”

After yanking on my boots, I grabbed the snow shovel from where it leaned against the porch railing and tromped across the yard.

How could she? Married in my name, hiding behind my fucking Social Security number.

I wanted to kill her.

No, wait. Death would be too quick. Maiming would be better after several rounds of torture first.

With a growl at the sky, I raised the snow shovel and swung, knocking the snowman’s head clear off in one blow. Susan’s hat went with it. The second blow took a big chunk out of the chest cavity. The third finished the job on the middle.

When I raised the shovel for a fourth whack at it, someone grabbed the handle.

“Violet!” Doc’s voice cut through my raging torrent of cursing. “Stop!”

I turned, my breath coming hard and fast. “She …” I swallowed a blazing ball of fury. “She stole my identity and married some guy.” I let him take the shovel from me. “Married, Doc. What kind of twisted, mentally fucked-up person does that to her own flesh and blood?”

He buried the shovelhead in the snow.

I covered my face with my cold palms, dragging my fingers down my cheeks. “I feel so … so … so violated.”

Without saying a word, Doc wrapped his coat around my shoulders and pulled me into his arms.

I bounced my forehead against his sternum, wishing I could snap my fingers and make this mess go away. “I knew she was up to something. Mom said I was just being a pessimist again and looking for problems where none existed, but I knew deep in my gut.”

“Susan came clean to your parents after you left,” he said, stroking my hair. “Your mom left the table in tears. Your dad is consoling her in their room.”

Turning my head, I rested my cheek against his warm chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart. “Are the kids okay?”

“They’re confused, but Natalie is helping them understand the situation.”

“What about everyone else?”

“Harvey told them to eat while the food was hot, so they are, including Mr. Peabody.”

“Good. I didn’t want to ruin Christmas.”

His chest vibrated. “I think your sister took the top prize for that today, sweetheart. But your daughter might be a bit hurt about the damage you inflicted on her poor snowman.”

I leaned back and looked at the aftermath of my storm of rage. All that was left was the bottom ball. Susan’s scarf was half-buried under the snow. I grimaced. “Good thing snowmen don’t bleed.”

“Remind me never to piss you off when there’s a shovel within reach.”

I turned back to him. “What am I going to do, Doc?”

He blew out a breath. “One way or another, we’re going to figure out how to unravel you from this spider web.”

“I could go to the police and claim identity fraud, but that hurts my parents more than Susan.” I didn’t even want to think about how much of a mess this would be with the IRS.

“Lucky for you, we know a certain detective who might be able to give us some advice on where to start.”

“Oh, God.” I groaned and dropped onto the bottom of the annihilated snowman. “This is so embarrassing.”

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong.”

“Yes, I did. I dragged everyone inside of that house into my sordid family drama. I’m sure witnessing the mushroom cloud spurred by my non-wedding to a complete stranger is not how they wanted to spend their holiday.”

He squatted in front of me, holding my knees. “Violet, you need to understand something about the people in that house. They are your family. Some may not be related by blood, but they would put their lives on the line to help you just the same. Hell, most of them already have in one way or another over the last few months.” When I frowned in the direction of my parents’ place, he added, “Even Cooper.”

Doc was right. I was fortunate to have each and every one of them by my side. But I wasn’t going to admit that to Cooper unless he said it first.

I looked down at my palms. They were red from the cold. I covered his hands with mine. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

I met his dark eyes. “I’m spoiled goods.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This could get ugly, Doc. There’s a will. That’s why Mr. Peabody had to find me. There’s money involved here. Susan didn’t marry some beach bum down in the Caribbean. She found herself a rich old guy and apparently convinced him to add her—or rather me—to his will.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“Enough that the lawyer hired a private investigator to hunt me down.”

He cursed under his breath.

“Exactly. I don’t want to drag you into this.”

His gaze narrowed. “It’s not your choice, it’s mine.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Listen, Killer. I’m not sure if you’ve been taking notes, but you and I are a team. Where you go, I go. When you fight, I fight. Nothing short of death is going to change that between us.”

His words made my heart thud hard against my ribcage. I laced my fingers with his. “As in ’til death do us part?” I jested. Sort of.

A grin crept onto his face. “Even after death if I go first, because I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“Deal.” I sighed, easing some of the pressure in my chest. “I wonder how long I’ve been married to this guy.”

He stood and plucked the sprig of mistletoe from the broken pieces of the head, pocketing it. “I wonder how long I’ve been fooling around with a married woman.”

A married woman. That was me, only the guy was all wrong. I groaned. “Criminy. Why me? Why couldn’t Susan use her own damned identity?”

He held out his hand. “Let’s go find out.”

I took it. “Doc?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for coming after me.”

He pulled me to my feet. “For you, cara mia, I’d ride a tornado bareback.”

I laughed, still holding his hand. “Ah, Gomez. You’re dearer to me than all of the bats in all of the caves in the world,” I said, quoting Morticia Addams. Make that all of the bats except for the giant man-eating kind. Those I’d leave for Cornelius to handle.

Doc squeezed my cold knuckles. “Prove it, Killer.” Hooking his arm around my shoulders, he led me toward the house.