The suspect had access to someone with money.
He let that idea simmer for a while.
Shaking his head, he focused on the new lead—the competition for the space at the museum.
It was all the buzz about town. And a lot of sketchy things had happened. A young man named Jacob Duncan had been arrested for murder, and yet his landlady was adamant he didn’t do it.
Time to talk to him.
As Cole walked toward the police station, he passed a lovely young woman. Obviously of wealth... with blonde hair and blue eyes.
He pulled the sketch out of his pocket. Yep. A close enough resemblance to investigate.
He turned and followed at a safe distance.
When she stopped at a stately mansion, he released a low whistle under his breath. Had he just found his murderer?
Turning back around, he headed to the jail. A deputy took him back to the cells. A man sat on the bench in the cell....
Was he praying? There was a Bible in his hands.
“Mr. Duncan?”
The younger man stood. “Yes, sir?”
“My name is Cole Anderson. I’m with the Pinkertons. I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure.” A glimmer of hope whisked across Duncan’s face. “As long as you can help me.”
“My goal is the truth.” He pulled out the sketch from his pocket. “Do you know this woman?”
Duncan studied it. “Well...”
“Don’t lie to me, young man. That won’t help you. Is this the woman that I assume was just here visiting you?”
Jacob jerked back. “Martha?” He looked at the picture again. “No. Well, I guess it is similar to her. But if you ask me, it looks more like her companion, Miss Lily Rose Ducasse. Why?”
JANKOWSKIMANSION
Martha walked back and forth in her room. She’d looked everywhere for Lily Rose but couldn’t find her.
Out of sheer desperation, she’d gone to her mother. She’d never been denied a request before. She was ready to beg and plead to get her powerful mother behind Jacob’s cause too.
But Mother was nowhere to be found.
Again. The past few months, Martha’s world had tipped on its side and spun out of control. What was going on?
You’re alone. That’s what going on. Nobodycares.
That ugly little voice in the back of her head had tried to make its way into her thoughts more and more over the past twenty-four hours.
No. “I’m not alone. God is with me.” She spoke it out to the room, banishing all remnants of her doubts.
A knock at her door caused her to spin around. “Come in.” Her heart skipped a beat. Mother?
Gerard opened the door and held out a silver platter. “A messenger just delivered this for you. I promised to bring it to you straightaway.”
She lifted the envelope from the tray. Hm. No return address. Simply her name in all capital letters. “Thank you.” She smiled at her butler, whose compassionate eyes told more than he’d ever spoken in words.
