A Wild Fright in Deadwood (Deadwood Humorous Mystery Book 7) by Ann Charles Read Free Book Online Page B

in my closet where I’d been keeping it tucked away. I’ve checked everywhere. I must have sleepwalked and left it somewhere else around here.” My subconscious probably had made me hide it, trying to protect my kids from learning the truth about who we were.
    “What’s in this book?” Doc was drying a plate now.
    I kept telling Aunt Zoe we needed to invest in a dishwasher, but she preferred to hand wash dishes. “Doc, why don’t you let me finish those later.” I felt guilty about him coming over to clean up after us.
    He waved the dish towel at me. “Answer my question.”
    “The book has information on my family history.”
    “Not only your family history,” Aunt Zoe chastised, fiddling with her coffee cup. “It’s a volume full of writings from various magistrae throughout our history about the executioners under their charge. Some accounts include lists of kills, others define abilities and disclose experiences along the way, and some give details on what method was used when executing different enemies.”
    Doc’s brow rose. “But didn’t you say that what has worked in the past might not work for Violet? That she has to figure out how to kill each different species of these others on her own?”
    “I did.” Aunt Zoe shot me a stern look. “But in addition to possible skill crossovers, which has happened in the past, she needs to read it to understand what else could potentially be out there waiting for her.”
    Doc hung the towel over the cupboard door below the sink. “Zoe, how do you feel about me reading this book?”
    He walked over and picked up my plate, holding it out for me to take the last bite. I stabbed it with my fork and popped it in my mouth. I handed him the fork, too, thanking him after I’d swallowed.
    Doc was a definite keeper, if only I could find some sort of invisible shackling device that didn’t involve a wedding band. Marriage was a topic I’d avoided around him ever since finding out he might be allergic to having a wife. And if that were the case, his gaining my two children in the matrimony deal would probably send him into anaphylactic shock.
    “Or would me reading this family memoir be against the rules?”
    Aunt Zoe shook her head. “There are no rules, just warnings and plenty of dangers.” She sat back, crossing her arms over her chest. Her lips were pinched as she focused on me. “Unfortunately, until we find the book, nobody can read it.”
    “There’s no second copy of it anywhere?” I asked, knowing the answer to that from her scoff alone.
    “I can’t believe you misplaced the book.”
    “It’s not my fault. I’m telling you, it was there when I fell asleep.”
    “Why didn’t you mention it was missing before now?”
    “I didn’t want you to look at me the way you are right now.”
    Doc chuckled. “Now you sound like Addy did earlier.”
    It was unfortunate that he’d had to witness my harping at my daughter at the dinner table about something else that had gone missing as of late—my water pick. When Layne had taken a moment to breathe in between his first and second helpings, he’d tattled on his sister. According to him, he’d witnessed Addy using my water pick to rinse off Elvis the chicken during the bird’s weekly bath. While I didn’t condone snitching, Addy knew better than to use my personal hygiene appliances on that damned chicken. We’d been there and done that before, with “grounding” consequences. So her claim not to realize I’d be upset about her using my water pick to blast the poop off Elvis’s tail feathers didn’t fly with me.
    It was bad enough to lose my buttons left and right and to find eggs laid in my shoes. The water pick fiasco was the final straw, especially after my shitty day. I didn’t care if scrubbing a chicken caused feather breakage. How many times had I used my water pick since Addy had started cleaning off poop with it? When I asked that very question, she didn’t have an answer for me—or