"No time!" He urges. Bronnah searches for her trunk but finds nothing, and they took her bag with all her cash the moment she was incapacitated. Stumbling to Helene, she tries to wake her, but she's out cold.
"Too much, poppy! We go now!" Kai pulls her from the room, but she is desperate to save at least one of the girls. When she moves into the girl's room, she stares in horror at them. They are dressed like strumpets, and Mrs. Killian is on the floor in a pool of vomit!
Dropping beside her on the floor she searches the woman for her small bag, to no avail. Rose opens her eyes and grabs Bronnah by her upper arms. Bronnah screams and pushes away from her with Kai leaping to help pull her back. Rose stares at them with hatred before her eyes roll back into her head once more. Bronnah rushes back to her body and searches her dress. She is rewarded with a small rolled up amount of cash, and a pistol, hopefully, that will be enough. Kai is desperate to escape, he knows they will need to get her far away, quickly.
Feeling stronger by the second, Bronnah nods and jumps up to follow him from the room. On the table in the sitting room is the ledger. She grabs it before looking down at her clothes in shock. “No!” she whispered.
Bronnah is wearing a very revealing dress, with lace trim and low-cut corset of black and emerald. Matching lace stockings and garter belt complete the look. She skids to a stop searching the room, desperate for her clothes. Kai watches and realizes what she's doing, he grabs a bag near the door and tosses it at her. It's full of the girl's clothes. Bronnah drops the ledger inside the bag as he yells, "Not now!" and pulls her to the double doors and points.
“We run!”
Bronnah nods in understanding and follows him clutching tightly to her bag. They run into the night desperate to put as much space between them and her captors.
Chapter 9
"Our new refrigerated rail car was built in New York. Chase, we saved on the shipping costs by attaching to the westward bound trains. Here's the itinerary." Dalton slides a paper to him with the stops the train made along the way.
"We know from the condition of the bodies that the girls died in the past few days." Chase studies the paper and frowns. "The most recent switch was in Illinois, guess that's where I'll start."
“I figured that would be the way of things. I booked you on the first train bound for Chicago in the morning. It’s a sleeper car so you can rest on the way. It’s a two-day journey, arriving in Chicago on August 24th. Lucky for you, I know people.” Dalton laughs and stands up.
“Thanks, Dalton. I’ll check in at the local police office as soon as I can. Hopefully, they can help with the investigation. I’ve already sent a wire to the U. S. Marshall's office informing them of the murders. They’re notifying all the Sheriff’s offices along the train route.” They walk outside Dalton’s office into the living room at the main house.
“What will you do about your next delivery?” Chase asked.
"I'm going to take your advice and hire some men from Fort Laramie. It should only delay us by a few days, and hopefully, with the ride along security we will make our delivery on time."
“I’m sorry I can’t help, but this investigation takes precedence. How’s Pierce doing?” Chase asked.
“I won’t lie to you, he's shaken up, but he’ll be okay,” Dalton answers. “You worry about coming home to us and stop whoever killed those girls.”
“I will.” He watches Dalton walk away to check on his very pregnant wife and play with his son in the front room. Chase smiles with satisfaction before going to his room to pack.
He packs quickly, strapping on his pistols and inspecting his rifle. Once he cleans and polishes it, he checks it over carefully. “You going to stand out there all day or come in?” He snaps gruffly without looking up.
“I just wanted to see you before you go,” Pierce replied stepping inside the room from shadows of the hallway. Chase glances at his brother and sighs.
“Pierce, I’m sorry you had to see those women like that.” He tosses his duffel bag on the floor, followed by his rifle and places his handcuffs on the back of his belt. Pierce shrugs and watches him polish his black cowboy boots.
“What exactly does a U. S. Marshall do, Chase?”
Chase rubs his boot with a dry cloth, and looks up, “Mostly they serve warrants and arrest those who need arresting. Sometimes we handle prisoner transfers. Those who wish to not be in the field handle census duties or distribute Presidential Proclamations. Some protect the borders in their jurisdiction.”
“But not you, what do you do?”
Chase grins at his brother’s perception and the cold glint of determination flickers in his eyes.
“I hunt, Pierce.” His smile fades as he stares at his brother. “I hunt fugitives who have no integrity and think they can outrun the law. I deliver justice.”
Pierce walks over to the bed and picks up Chase’s U.S. Marshall Pocket watch and rubs his thumb over the engraved words on the case. “Chase Rivers, United States Marshall, Wyoming Territory.” He hands it to Chase who slips it into the pocket of his jeans. “We’re lucky to have you protecting us. I hope you find them. No one deserves to die like that.”
Haunted eyes meet steel, “I’m very good at my job.” He stands up and clasps his brother on the shoulder. “Those images may
