After all Martha had been through, all the hurt, the betrayal, the loss... she had every right to be harsh and upset.
Which left one question burning in his mind...
Would the woman he cared about be able to overcome the darkness that pressed in?
Sixteen
“Think a moment, stop, and listen. Think how swiftly the moments fly. Youth is short and age is dreary; cheer these early days with a song or thou wilt grow sad and weary if the journey should be too long. Up and arm the fort, the battle for the strife with you.”
~Earl Douglass
MONDAY, JULY15, 1889
A knock at his door brought Cole to his feet.
He opened the door.
“Telegram for you, sir.” The young boy waited with his hand out.
Cole dropped a coin into the boy’s palm and the lad took off running. Ripping into the envelope, he closed the door with his boot.
It was from the sheriff in Castle Rock. A man had been murdered... and a white glove had been left.
———
Two hours later, Cole tied his horse to the post outside the sheriff’s office. He’d been fuming since receiving the missive. Why hadn’t he been contacted sooner? As soon as he knew about the killer’s signature, he’d sent alerts through all of his contacts.
He stomped into the building. “Sheriff?” he shouted into the room.
A man came from the back, a deep frown on his face. “That’s me. What’s got you all fired up?”
Cole brought the telegram forward. “Why didn’t you wire me sooner with this information?” He hated the accusatory tone in his voice, but this case was trying his patience.
“Simmer down, son. I just got the alert yesterday. As soon as I saw it, I sent you a telegram.”
The answer defused his anger a bit, but the blasted delay might make him lose the killer. “I apologize for my abrasiveness. This case has my anger riled. And now it’s been almost a month since this murder.”
“Understandable. That’s why I contacted you as soon as I found out you were on the case.” He stepped over to his desk. “Maybe this will help you. In addition to the white glove left on the body—I have a witness who came forward.”
Energy rippled through him. A new lead. Exactly what he needed. “What did the witness say?”
“Sadly, he was in the shadows himself. So he didn’t have a lot more information than the description.” The sheriff leaned back in his chair.
“In theshadows?” What was that supposed to mean? The witness actually admitted to hanging out in “the shadows”? Didn’t anyone know how to do decent police work anymore?
The sheriff cleared his throat and leaned forward, his expression hardening. “No need to take that tone. He’d just come from the brothel.”
Cole shook his head. So the witness was of disreputablecharacter. Great. “Never mind that. I apologize once again for my frustration, but there’s a killer on the loose. What did he see?”
“He saw a blonde woman come out of the mercantile and get on her horse. She was the only one to leave the mercantile around the time of the murder.”
His jaw dropped. Women were often involved in crimes, but a murderer? “A woman? Was he certain?”
“Yep. And she headed north when she left.” The sheriff appeared pleased as punch. “I’ve got this drawing, if it helps.”
Cole took the paper and studied it. “It does. Thank you.” He folded it and walked out of the sheriff’s office, his gut churning.
If a woman was behind the murders, his case just got a lot more complicated.
