Read Optical Delusions in Deadwood for Free Online Page A

handy.

          A portrait of a couple sat on a sideboard across the room, luring me. I picked up the brass frame, recoiling as I focused on the man’s harsh features: eyes too far apart, nose bent in two places, teeth crooked and stained a gray-beige, blond hair cowlicky over each temple. The raven-haired beauty cozied up next to him made me blink, the contrast stark, mesmerizing. With her ivory skin and amethyst eyes, she would have piled up traffic on Interstate 90 during biker week.

          “What are you doing?”

          I tensed at the sound of Millie’s voice. She stood rigid, watching, expressionless.

          “I’m, uh,” I showed her the picture, “just looking at—”

          She rushed up to me, yanked the frame from my hands. “Sit down!”

          I stood rooted, shocked immobile by her sudden ferocity.

          She hugged the frame against her chest, and then stepped back, her face visibly softening behind the thick circles of glass. Her hand trembled when she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, I ... please, would you sit?”

          “Sure.” Feeling a bit wobbly myself, I followed her back toward the chair and obeyed. She handed me a glass of warm water and joined Wanda, who had sneaked in during Millie’s schizophrenic episode and planted herself on the sofa.

          I gave Wanda a mega-watt smile, wanting to connect, to offer her some friendly compassion after the horrific distress she’d undoubtedly experienced during the last year. The corners of her lips creased, barely. She held eye contact for all of half a heartbeat. Then her gaze darted about, not remaining on anything for any length of time, and certainly not on me.

          The chair I sat in didn’t feel so comfy anymore.

          I cleared my throat. “Thank you for the drink.” I sipped the warm water and winced inwardly at the acrid taste of it. Setting my glass on the side table next to me, I addressed both of my hostesses. “I’d also like to thank you for opening your home to me and offering the first opportunity at selling it for you. However, I can’t—”

          “You’re not the first,” Millie interrupted me.

          “I’m not?”

          Wanda shook her head.

          “We tried four other realty offices.” Millie fiddled with a loose piece of yarn unraveling from her sweater. “None of them would even drive by, let alone come take a look inside. It’s because of what happened, I just know it.”

          “Well...” She was undoubtedly right. Ray and Mona weren’t the only ones in the area concerned about a reputation.

          It was my turn to fiddle. Discussing the brutal murder and violent suicide of Millie’s father and brother was a bit of a delicate, complicated matter.

          “The last real estate agent mentioned your name,” Millie said. “After we heard about you, we knew you were the one for us.”

          Alarms whooped in my head. “What did you hear?”

          “That you dealt with ...” Millie’s eyes darted to her mother, a worried look on her face. “With houses that were rumored to have ghosts.”

          “An agent told you that?” It was this kind of comment being tossed around town that was causing all of the stares and whispers ... and my heartburn.

          Millie nodded. “So, do you think you could sell Mother’s house?”

          Maybe to an out-of-towner, and only because I’d want to stick the sale up the other agent’s nose. Well, and I needed the money—bad. “Possibly.”

          “How long do you think it would take?”

          “If the rest of the house has been taken care of as well as this room, maybe a month. Two at the most.” Optimism was one of my strengths, along with following through on retribution. I’d bet my mother’s fine China it was Ray who’d told them the rumor about me.