Aunt Dorcas looked pleased that he was going to try and solve the mystery. "Oh, good. Those girls need a champion."

"Well, I don't know about that," Kid said, "but I'm going right down there to see what I can find out. You wouldn't happen to know where exactly the girls worked, would you? I'm sure in a city this size, there's more than one saloon."

"Oh, goodness me, no. I've never been to Pine Street myself."

"Well, no matter. I'll find it out soon enough. It's bound to be getting a lot of talk down there even if it's not getting a lot of coverage by the paper."

"Gives me chill bumps thinking of you getting involved though," Aunt Dorcas said. "I hope I'm not sending you straight into the arms of danger."

"Nothing I can't handle and it sounds like I don't fit the killer's targets anyway. It may be too late since somebody might've already seen our wagon or I may even run into someone who can identify me, but just don't go mentioning my name around. People are more likely to talk to me if they don't know who I am."

"Of course," Aunt Dorcas agreed.

He stood up and the ladies followed suit.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Kid said to Ruth.

She forced a smile she didn't feel. "I know you will."

He kissed Mercy's forehead, still in her mother's arms, and then Ruth. Then got directions from Aunt Dorcas.

sss

Ruth was helping her aunt make a cherry pie for after dinner. She mixed, rolled, and spooned while Mercy napped, but her mind was elsewhere. She was so distracted that the pie was almost a complete surprise when it came out of the oven.

It was a perfectly latticed pie crust, courtesy of her aunt. The vibrant red cherries and the golden brown crust could have come out of one of her paintings, it was that faultless. It was as if anything her aunt touched turned to gold like King Midas. Ruth could make food tasty, but she could never get it looking that pretty.

"You and Uncle Israel should've opened a pie shop."

Aunt Dorcas shrugged off the compliment. "Then when would I have time to paint? Besides, I couldn't've done it without you. You cut my workload in half, a mercy to my back I assure you. Don't get old, Ruth."

She gave a little smile. "I'll do my best."

"You fretting about Kid?" she asked, taking note of Ruth's far away look.

"Yeah. I know he can take care of himself, but we're talking about a person who's murdered more than once without getting caught. How can I not fret about that?"

"It's hard I know."

"And how is he going to get the girls to talk?"

"Well, he is a handsome boy. That can loosen tongues."

"Maybe. Or freeze them. And it's been almost 5 hours. I'm worried. He ain't going to like it, but I have to know he's okay. Will you watch Mercy for me?"

"Of course I will, but do you think it's safe for you to go there?"

"I ain't no saloon girl and it's broad daylight. I shouldn't have any trouble."

"Take one of Israel's pistols," Aunt Dorcas advised.

Ruth almost started to protest, but she could see her point with a murderer running loose. She had been at the mercy of a crazy man once before and it wasn't an experience she was looking to repeat. She hid the pistol in her reticule after Aunt Dorcas retrieved it for her.

"If you were a still a youngen, I'd forbid you to go, but you're a grown woman. Just don't do anything foolish, and for heaven's sake, be back before dark. Think of your little daughter."

"I won't be foolish and I will be careful. Now don't you go worrying about me. I've spent plenty of time in saloons."

"That somehow doesn't reassure me," Aunt Dorcas said dryly.

Ruth laughed and kissed her aunt's cheek and her sleeping baby's.

sss

It was one of four other taverns. She'd ducked inside everyone but this one. The sign above said Last Chance Saloon, an ironic name considering.

Bright, happy music poured out its door and an angelic voice, belonging to one of the girls, sang a bawdy song. Kid had to be inside this one, but a man leaned up against its door, blocking entry. Pushing her way past wasn't an option. She had to talk her way by.

"Hello. I'm Sister Ruth," she said in a friendly manner.

"Rufus." He didn't look open to talking if his body language was any indicator. He was still looking through her, puffing his cigar, his arms remained folded against his chest.

"I'm looking for a man."

"Might've known. Drunk husband I assume. Can't help you. Now if you were looking for a woman, the story might've been different."

She ignored his coarse stab at humor. "Actually I might be. I'm looking for somebody who knew Emily Copin. A friend maybe." It was a risky question, but it seemed like a great opening to ask.

"You her sister or something?"

"No. Not really."

"Then what do you know about Emily?" he asked, his voice taking on a harsher tone.

"Nothing," she admitted. "Just what I seen in the paper is all."

"Then what do you care?"

"I care and it seems like to me as they're one of your main sources of income, you ought to care too and be doing more to ensure their safety."

"You think I like my girls getting killed? I've begged the city marshal and the mayor to get involved in this, but those self-righteous snots think any trouble Pine Street has, we've brought it on ourselves. I care and what's more I just hired me a man to get to the bottom of it."

"Really? Who?" She had a feeling it might have been Kid.

"Like I'm going to tell you. Go bother somebody else, lady."

"A tall man with dark hair and a scar on his right jaw?"

"Just who are you anyway?"

That was a yes and that also assured her he was doing just fine. It had been silly to come check up on him, but 5 hours was a long time in a situation like this. "Nobody important."

"Sister Ruth. You're Kid Cole's wife. I kept thinking I heard your name before. I recognized him right away from a description a friend of mine give who's seen him."

"He'll do real good for you. You can bet on that."

"No doubt he's a good man to have in a fight. Sharp too or he wouldn't have lived this long, but he's not a people person. I've watched him in there the past few hours. He just can't get people talking, too direct, and getting people talking is needed more than anything." It hit him how much talking he'd been doing. She'd goaded and sweet talked in all the right places. "But you seem to know your way around the art of conversation. If you were helping him, I think we could get to the killer faster."

"Wouldn't people wonder what a woman like me was doing in there? It's be hard for them to get over that. I think Kid's better off doing this alone as much as I'd like to be where I can assure myself he's okay."

"Not if you were just another harlot."

Sister Ruth's mouth fell open. "I'm a god-fearing woman. I don't know wha-"

"Don't go getting your drawers in a knot. I can see you are from your Bible, but 2 people working on this thing is better than one, ain't it? You wouldn't have to perform any of the duties in the back. Just be out here in the front. You can keep a good eye on the girls that way and they'd be more likely to open up to another skirt, wouldn't they? I've asked them if they noticed anything wrong with the 3 girls that died. They were all mine, you see, and I asked them if they noticed any weird-looking characters, but females talk more to each other I've noticed about certain things."

He echoed her earlier thoughts so well about whether Kid could loosen the girl's tongues and the plan seemed so perfect for accomplishing the task at hand, but she hesitated. "I don't know that my husband would like it. I need to pray on this and talk it over with him first."

"While another girl dies? You want that on your conscience?"

Time was of the essence and it made sense that she could find out more dressed as a saloon girl. And not that the idea thrilled her, but maybe she could even lure out the killer for Kid to capture. "Where can I change?"