Nearly Departed in Deadwood by Ann Charles Read Free Book Online Page B

paper.

          Snapping the folder shut, I wanted to crawl under Jane’s desk and nurse my bruised ego back to health with a bottle of Southern Comfort.

          “Hello?” A male voice echoed through the empty office.

          I nearly dropped the folder in surprise. “Be right with you.” I slipped the folder back in its place.

          Straightening my damp camisole, I forced my cheeks into a smile and stepped out into the front room. “How can I ...”

          Our new neighbor, the cleft-chinned Wild Bill groupie, stood pasted against the wall next to the To-Do whiteboard. His gaze was locked on the coffee maker, his lips pressed tight, his rugged face visibly pale. I glanced at the coffee maker, looking for a mouse or a rat or a flying-purple-people-eater. Something other than just a glass decanter half-filled with brown liquid.

          “Are you okay?”

          His dark eyes flicked my way. “I will be in a second.”

          “Can I help you ... somehow?”

          “I just need to catch my breath.”

          Funny, he didn’t seem winded.

          As the seconds ticked by, his cheeks regained some color. “I’m Doc Nyce, by the way.”

          Nyce? How did I know that name?

          “I left you a message earlier this morning.”

          “You’re Doctor Nyce?” Judging by his jeans and faded black T-shirt, I wouldn’t have guessed that M.D. followed his name.

          “Yes, but I’m not a doctor.”

          Puzzled, I crossed my arms. “Then why do you go by doctor ?”

          “I don’t. I go by ‘Doc.’ My name is Dane, but my initials are ‘D.R.’ Nyce.”

          Well, there were ten seconds of my life that I’d never get back. I indicated to the chair across from my desk. “Do you want to have a seat, Doc ?”

          “I’ll just stand here, if you don’t mind.”

          “Okay.” I hesitated, uncertain if I should follow his lead or sit.

          “You have something on your ...” He circled his face with his open palm.

          Shit! I’d forgotten about my clown makeup. My cheeks burned so hot that my ears sent up smoke signals. I grabbed another tissue and swiped at my eyes. “Is that better?”

          He winced. “Not really.”

          I gave up and sat. “What can I do for you, Mr. Nyce?”

          “I want to buy a house.”

          A buyer? Holy crap. I tried not to drool as I smiled. “Do you have a house in mind?”

          “No.” His gaze whipped back to the coffee maker, his nostrils flaring.

          “An area then?”

          “Close to Deadwood.” He sniffed, twice.

          “How close?” Was the coffee burning? I sniffed, too. Nope. “Like a five-mile radius?”

          “Sure.”

          Wolfgang’s house came to mind, but it wouldn’t be ready to show for a few weeks, if that. I opened my notebook containing our current listings and scanned for Deadwood addresses. “How many bedrooms are you interested in?”

          “I’m easy.”

          “How many baths?”

          “Two.” His voice sounded further away. I looked up to find him pressing against the front door, his focus now on Mona’s desk. What in the hell?

          I sat back and scratched my neck. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

          “I’m just a little nauseated.”

          He was making me just a little nervous. “Would you like a glass of water?”

          “No. Fresh air will help.” His body tensed visibly, his face creasing for a blink of time. “Can we look at some houses tomorrow?”

          “Sure. Morning or afternoon?”

          He shoved open the door and practically fell outside. “Afternoon,” he hollered in at me.

          I stood up, unsure if I should follow him out. “You want to meet me here at twelve-thirty, then?”