Better Off Dead in Deadwood by Ann Charles Read Free Book Online Page B

their hands too close to moving ranch machinery. But the murder of my boss wasn’t one of those truth-needed moments.
    “The party was okay,” I told them while tossing my shoes in the closet, frowning at a couple of small chicken feathers floating about in there. “I’m glad to be home with you two, though.”
    Layne eyed my dress. “You look really pretty, Mom.”
    “Thanks, sweetie. I love you, too.”
    “Did you go to the party with a man?” he asked, feigning disinterest.
    Layne had male-replacement issues, as in he feared that allowing another man to come into my life would erase my need for him. No matter how many times I tried to explain how incorrect that whole notion was, he couldn’t shake his dislike for any guy who took more than a casual interest in me.
    This was one reason I was being so careful with Doc. At the moment, Layne viewed Doc as my friend and was beginning to warm up to him. If he found out in this early stage of their friendship that Doc was my boyfriend—that word still made me grin like an idiot—the temperature between them would drop to freezing overnight.
    “I went to the party with Mr. Harvey.”
    Layne admired Harvey for his worm catching abilities. Plus, with our age difference, Harvey was no threat.
    I walked over to my dresser and grabbed a pink knit shirt and some yoga pants from my drawer. I had a while until Doc would show up on my doorstep, since he said he’d be working late down by Mount Rushmore, so no need to dress up to bake a frozen pizza.
    “You should leave that dress on for dinner tonight, Mom,” Addy said.
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Please. You look so beautiful in it.”
    “Thank you, Addy, but I’m not wearing this dress all night. I’m going to take a quick shower; then I’ll throw something together for dinner.”
    “Will you make my favorite?” Addy asked.
    “Lasagna?”
    She nodded.
    “That will take too long.” And a lot more work than I was willing to put into dinner. “How about a frozen pizza instead?”
    “Maybe I could help you with the lasagna.”
    “Are you even listening to me, Adelynn? And where are your glasses? You’re supposed to be wearing them all of the time.” As much as they’d cost, I wanted to see them on her face 24/7.
    “They hurt my ears.”
    “That’s because you’re not wearing them enough. You better have them on when I get back.” I ignored her protests and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be done shortly. Stay out of trouble.”
    There was something about death that made me need to wash my hair. I scrubbed shampoo into it twice and conditioned the hell out of my barely manageable curls. In the post-shower steam, I threw on my shirt and yoga pants and combed my fingers through my wet mophead. I had a couple of hours to get gussied up for Doc.
    The doorbell rang as if it’d heard me.
    I froze, staring at the steamed up mirror. Crud! Doc was early.
    “I’ll get it, Mom,” Addy called. I could hear her feet pounding down the stairs.
    As I dug through my makeup drawer for some quick fixes, I heard the front door shut then the sound of a deep voice opposite Addy’s excited tone.
    I raced to my bedroom and kicked Layne out, telling him to go downstairs and help his sister entertain our company, and closed the door behind him. One look at my curls in the mirror and I squawked. I had some serious work to do taming my outer shrew with very little time to make it happen.
    Fifteen minutes later, I cruised downstairs, my heart beating fast for fear that my children had somehow scared Doc off. With his being a bachelor for decades, his daily lifestyle didn’t include sticky floors, dirty finger smudges, and chicken feathers.
    The sound of Addy’s giggles coming from the kitchen lit a flame of hope in my chest.
    I took a deep breath and then breezed into the kitchen, only to slam to a stop at the sight of Jeff Wymonds sitting at a candlelit kitchen table. And by candlelit, I meant there was just a single