kind of scar? What did it look like? Where was it?”
“Above his . . . collarbone.” Felicity swallowed. “Here.” She touched the spot at the base of her throat. “It was shaped like . . . like a half . . . moon.”
It was him. He was here in Central City—or had been when this young woman was assaulted more than a week ago.
When he looked at Felicity again, he no longer saw her. He saw his sister. He saw Katrina’s swollen face and battered body as she’d told him of her assailant’s scar on his chest. That was the last thing she’d said to him before she died.
“Mr. Newman?” Claudette said, intruding on the dark memory. “I think you’d better leave now.”
“Just a few more questions.”
“No. Felicity’s not strong enough. Please go now.”
Jared wasn’t going to change the woman’s mind. He could tell that by the set of her mouth and the look in her eyes. As he got to his feet he said, “I’d like to come back in the morning, if that’s all right. To see if there’s anything else she remembers.”
Claudette led him out of the room before answering. “I’m not convinced she can tell you anything more that would help. The sheriff said there was too little to go on. Not that he cares about a girl like Felicity. Still, if the law can’t find him, why do you think you can?”
“Because I’ve been looking for him for six years, and I won’t give up until I find him.” The rage that filled him was a familiar companion. “He did the same thing to my sister.” He drew a deep breath. “Only she didn’t survive. My sister died from the assault.”
Claudette’s expression changed to one of sympathy. “I’m sorry to know it. If Felicity is stronger in the morning, I reckon you may see her.”
“Thanks.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I don’t have a room yet.”
“The Colorado is a decent hotel.”
“Thanks. I’ll go there.”
“Mr. Newman, the sheriff said it isn’t likely the man who did this is still in Central City. Drifters and gunslingers pass through the gold camps all the time. And I remain doubtful there’s anything helpful Felicity can tell you about the man who attacked her.”
“I know, Miss Claudette, but you never can tell what someone will remember that can help. Even something small.” He put his hat on his head. “Let me know when I can come back in the morning.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Newman.”
Despite the gray light of early evening, Silver recognized Jared as he strode along the boardwalk toward the restaurant. It was more than his height or the breadth of his shoulders. There was something in the way he moved that was already familiar to her. A strength. A sense of purpose.
Odd, wasn’t it? That she should know that about him after so short a time.
Before Jared reached the restaurant doorway, Silver stepped away from the horses and into the pale light spilling onto the boardwalk through the restaurant’s window. “Did you find Mr. Carlton?”
“No.” He frowned. “I thought I told you to wait inside.”
She straightened her shoulders, standing tall. “I satthere as long as I could, but I needed to stretch my legs. I was waiting with the horses.”
“This isn’t a safe town. Not for a woman alone.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m unharmed. You can see that for yourself.” She wished she could read his face better. “What did you learn? Anything that will help us?”
At last he too stepped into the lantern light coming from the restaurant. “I confirmed that a man named Matt Carlton used to work as a dealer at a place called the Crystal Palace.” He jerked his head, indicating it was somewhere behind him. “But he quit and left town about a week or so ago. No one knows where he went for sure. Just that he talked about heading farther west.”
The strength that had kept her shoulders straight drained out of her. She’d hoped—
“I’ll take you back to Twin Springs in the morning, Miss Matlock.”
“Take
“Above his . . . collarbone.” Felicity swallowed. “Here.” She touched the spot at the base of her throat. “It was shaped like . . . like a half . . . moon.”
It was him. He was here in Central City—or had been when this young woman was assaulted more than a week ago.
When he looked at Felicity again, he no longer saw her. He saw his sister. He saw Katrina’s swollen face and battered body as she’d told him of her assailant’s scar on his chest. That was the last thing she’d said to him before she died.
“Mr. Newman?” Claudette said, intruding on the dark memory. “I think you’d better leave now.”
“Just a few more questions.”
“No. Felicity’s not strong enough. Please go now.”
Jared wasn’t going to change the woman’s mind. He could tell that by the set of her mouth and the look in her eyes. As he got to his feet he said, “I’d like to come back in the morning, if that’s all right. To see if there’s anything else she remembers.”
Claudette led him out of the room before answering. “I’m not convinced she can tell you anything more that would help. The sheriff said there was too little to go on. Not that he cares about a girl like Felicity. Still, if the law can’t find him, why do you think you can?”
“Because I’ve been looking for him for six years, and I won’t give up until I find him.” The rage that filled him was a familiar companion. “He did the same thing to my sister.” He drew a deep breath. “Only she didn’t survive. My sister died from the assault.”
Claudette’s expression changed to one of sympathy. “I’m sorry to know it. If Felicity is stronger in the morning, I reckon you may see her.”
“Thanks.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I don’t have a room yet.”
“The Colorado is a decent hotel.”
“Thanks. I’ll go there.”
“Mr. Newman, the sheriff said it isn’t likely the man who did this is still in Central City. Drifters and gunslingers pass through the gold camps all the time. And I remain doubtful there’s anything helpful Felicity can tell you about the man who attacked her.”
“I know, Miss Claudette, but you never can tell what someone will remember that can help. Even something small.” He put his hat on his head. “Let me know when I can come back in the morning.”
“I will. Good night, Mr. Newman.”
Despite the gray light of early evening, Silver recognized Jared as he strode along the boardwalk toward the restaurant. It was more than his height or the breadth of his shoulders. There was something in the way he moved that was already familiar to her. A strength. A sense of purpose.
Odd, wasn’t it? That she should know that about him after so short a time.
Before Jared reached the restaurant doorway, Silver stepped away from the horses and into the pale light spilling onto the boardwalk through the restaurant’s window. “Did you find Mr. Carlton?”
“No.” He frowned. “I thought I told you to wait inside.”
She straightened her shoulders, standing tall. “I satthere as long as I could, but I needed to stretch my legs. I was waiting with the horses.”
“This isn’t a safe town. Not for a woman alone.”
“Perhaps not, but I’m unharmed. You can see that for yourself.” She wished she could read his face better. “What did you learn? Anything that will help us?”
At last he too stepped into the lantern light coming from the restaurant. “I confirmed that a man named Matt Carlton used to work as a dealer at a place called the Crystal Palace.” He jerked his head, indicating it was somewhere behind him. “But he quit and left town about a week or so ago. No one knows where he went for sure. Just that he talked about heading farther west.”
The strength that had kept her shoulders straight drained out of her. She’d hoped—
“I’ll take you back to Twin Springs in the morning, Miss Matlock.”
“Take
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