Jane headed out to the street with Kelsey following. She’d barely reached the sidewalk when she heard Brian Highsmith call out with a deep Western twang, “There she is! There’s my girl now!”
Brian jumped down from the “boulder” that had been set up for performances and came striding toward her. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he said, taking her hand, “I give you the esteemed, the one and only, indeed, the adored Sage McCormick! I was madly in love with the lady—I adored her from afar, of course, because she was already married! But while I might have been a bad man in the eyes of some, a low-down no-account drifter of a horse thief and an outlaw, I did indeed adore her. Now, once upon a time,” he said drily, winking as he looked down at Jane, “people thought Sage had given in to me and that we’d run away together. But alas!”
He played to the crowd, raising his hand. “But what?” he asked.
“Alas!” the crowd cried.
“Alas, we have recently discovered the bones of the beautiful Sage McCormick right in the Gilded Lily. We now know the actress was killed and that she didn’t run off with Red. But that was then—and thanks to the wonders of Silverfest and these costumes, here we are again! Together at long last!”
He bent down as if he was going to kiss her. Jane quickly stepped forward, addressing the crowd. “Yes, together again, but just as friends! Sage cared about Marston. He, like Trey Hardy, was one of those outlaws who still had a sense of morality. Trey Hardy was never a killer. Sage believed that Red Marston would happily steal your horse, but he wouldn’t kill you for it. Sage was in love with her husband and she loved her child, but I don’t think she realized when she married him that her first love would always be the theater. Ah, the theater! Please make sure you have your reservations for the Gilded Lily this evening, and if they sell out, do come by tomorrow!”
“Well done, Agent Everett. You are a woman of many surprises,” Brian said.
“Yes, well...I wouldn’t have put on the costume if I hadn’t been willing to play the part. And I wouldn’t have a badge if I wasn’t willing to enforce the law,” she added sweetly.
She started to turn to Kelsey but as she did, she caught sight of someone standing alone in the street, right in front of the Old Jail.
For a minute, she thought that Sloan had returned.
But it wasn’t Sloan; this man’s hair was longer and his jawline was stubbled. He looked at her and beckoned, then walked into the Old Jail.
For a moment she stood there, puzzled, but suspecting she knew who it was.
“Jane?” Kelsey asked.
She turned again, distracted. “Um, let’s go see my room. I’m at the Old Jail for tonight, the Trey Hardy cell.”
They hurried toward the Old Jail.
She was right. She’d seen Hardy.
He slipped through the closed door, disappearing as she wedged her way through the crowd to reach it.
12
Sloan and Logan made their way through the crowds on the street to the Gilded Lily. When they arrived, Valerie was perched on a bar stool singing a Civil War ballad to an appreciative audience of drinkers.
Liz came up to him. “Sloan, want me to get you a table? Hello,” she said, smiling at Logan.
“A table would be great, but it doesn’t look like you have any,” Sloan replied.
“Give me a minute. I know how to squeeze people.”
She did; Liz managed to get one couple to join another, freeing up a table. Sloan thanked her and introduced her to Logan.
“You’re FBI, too?” she asked.
“He works with Jane,” Sloan told her.
“That’s good. We’re glad you’re here.” Liz bent low to the table as if listening closely to get their orders.
“Thank you,” Logan said. “I hope we can be of some help.”
“I’m sure you will be—and just having more officers around...well, that’s good.” Liz shook her head. “I can’t afford to quit, but I don’t feel great when I come into work anymore.”
“Has anything else happened?” Sloan asked.
“Besides Jennie being attacked and still in a coma?” Liz responded. “And someone digging up Sage McCormick’s skull? Or the murders? Or the attack on the Hough family?”
“Sorry. I meant here at the Gilded Lily,” Sloan said.
“No. I mean, not that I’ve heard. I don’t come in now until I know someone else is with me. Never bothered me before to be the first one in for the night. The actors and Jennie and Henri live here, so there was usually someone around, and it never bothered me to hear noises from upstairs or the theater or even the basement, but now...anyway, I’m terrified of the place. I wouldn’t be alone in here for the world!”
“Did you hear noises from the basement a lot?” Sloan asked her.
“Well, sure. Old buildings creak. Oh! Maybe we have rats or something down in the basement? Or ghosts. This place is haunted. We all think so. But the ghosts always seemed to know I’m a complete coward—they never gave me any trouble. I should move along. What can I get you two?”
“For now? Draft?” Sloan said, looking at Logan.