“What about women?”
The man at the end of the bar stood and came to sit by Cole. “I’m Bobby Polk.” He stuck a hand out and Cole shook it. “I played cards with Ed many times. And let me tell you, he loved the ladies. Didn’t he, Vince?”
“He did. New dove on his arm every night almost.” Vince rubbed a glass out with his towel and placed it on the shelf. “Well, he used to. He’d been seeing some new woman for about a month afore he died. Real pretty thing. All blonde hair and blue eyes.”
Bobby tossed back what was left of his whiskey. “Nah, she had light brown hair, didn’t she? But definitely blue eyes. She could stare through you like you wasn’t even there. Who knew what she saw in old Eddie, but she stuck to him close.”
Cole drummed his fingers against the thick oak bar top. The variance in descriptions wasn’t helpful, but if they could get a general sketch of the woman, he could have someone at the office draw it up and share it across the wire between here and Colorado Springs. He needed to question this woman.
“You gentlemen have been very helpful. Just one more question. Have you seen the woman recently?”
Bobby shook his head. “She ain’t been round here since Eddie died.”
“Yeah, she was. Two days after the funeral. She came in and talked with Slim.” Vince raised an eyebrow. “They looked mighty cozy. But she ain’t been back after that.”
“Slim?” Cole made a mental note of that.
“Come to think of it, haven’t seen him in a bit neither.” The barkeep frowned and then shrugged.
Hm. Cole had quite a bit to do when he got back to the hotel. “Appreciate your cooperation.” He tossed a couple coins on the bar. “Have a drink on me.” He tipped his hat and left the tavern.
He stood on the wooden sidewalk for a minute, putting the information he’d just learned in order in his mind. It was clear that Edwin Gilbert was well liked by most who knew him and had kept his promise not to drink. So there was no longer any doubt in Cole’s mind that someone made Edwin’s death look accidental.
But it was murder. By someone who’d committed several other murders. Which meant the killer was far more dangerous than he’d originally suspected.
Of utmost importance now was to track down this Slim and the mystery woman. Maybe the two of them knew something that would be helpful. Or maybe they were his culprits.
One thing was certain.
The faster he found them, the better.
SATURDAY, JUNE15, 1889•JANKOWSKIDIGSITE
A yellow-bellied marmot raced across Jacob’s worksite as he was setting out his tools. Each morning, he liked to be the first one on-site. And each morning, the critter would eyeball him and race off.
He’d even given the animal a name. Reginald.
Whether the little guy was looking for food or simply upset that the dinosaur dig was in his path, Jacob couldn’t say. But he’d started having conversations with it.
“Good morning to you too, Reginald!” he hollered after it. “I look forward to our discussion today.”
Yesterday, Martha had interrupted one such conversation and had laughed for a solid two minutes at Jacob’s tone of voice with the animal.
He worked out the kinks in his neck and smiled. Working side-by-side with Martha the past couple weeks had been superb. The best days of his life to be honest. Not only was she a great teacher when it came to paleontology, but they found a rhythm like they had been working together for years.
Jacob noticed it. Lily Rose noticed it. Martha even commented on it.
But today ... well, he had other plans. Last night, he’d lain awake for hours developing a strategy. It might be foolish of him to even ask, but Martha needed a change of scenery.
They both did.
Martha and Lily Rose arrived followed by a herd of the workers.
Jacob finished his preparations and wiped his palms on his work denims.
Taking a big breath, he removed his hat from his head and walked into the tent where Martha was coordinating the work for the day. “Do you have a moment?”
She darted her gaze to him and then back to her papers. “You don’t have to ask, silly.”
