“It’s always great to see you.”
“You, too. No more ghosts, I hope.” He kept his tone light, but she had called him after the murder, so he knew something terrible had happened. He’d wanted to come up then, but she had told him the police were handling the investigation and there was nothing he could do.
“No more than usual,” she said evasively.
“So nobody else is dead.”
Jenny made no reply.
Dylan glanced up the hill. “How’s your job at the Grandview working out?”
Jenny thought of Cain and the way he had made love to her last night at the ranch, with a desperate need and vulnerability that touched her as nothing he had done before.
“It’s going great. I like my job. If you want to know whether I’m still seeing Cain, the answer is yes.”
His lips thinned. “I can’t tell you what to do. Just be careful.”
She managed to smile. “The Grandview’s almost finished. We’re gearing up for the grand-opening party. Your invitation’s in the mail.”
Dylan just nodded. “I got the email.” He was looking over her shoulder at something on the boardwalk and smiling. Jenny turned to see Summer walking out of the Butterfly Boutique, headed in their direction. A light breeze ruffled her long, pale-blond hair and the fringe on the knit shawl around her shoulders.
“We’re, umm . . . going to lunch at the Haunted Hamburger,” Dylan said.
One of Jenny’s eyebrows went up. “How did that happen?”
“Summer called me. She told me she was invited to the grand-opening party at the Grandview. She figured I would be going and asked if I might be interested in the two of us going together.”
“And you said yes?”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Why not? After she called, we started Face-Timing each other. I thought I’d stay here the night of the party and go back in the morning.”
“That’s great.” Jenny knew how her friend felt about Dylan. “I’ll book you a room.” Her gaze shifted between Summer and her good-looking brother. “A double.”
Summer walked up just then. “Hi, guys.”
“Hey, Summer.” Dylan bent and kissed her cheek. “You hungry?”
Summer smiled. “Starving.”
“Me, too.” He cast Jenny a glance. “We’ll see you after lunch.” Dylan took Summer’s hand, and they headed across the street to the stairs leading up the hill to the restaurant on Clark Street. Summer looked back at Jenny and mouthed,Talk later.
Jenny waved, glad Summer had taken the initiative, proud of her brother for taking a chance. She hoped it worked out for the two of them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
INSTEAD OF HEADING UP TO THE LIBRARY, JENNY ROUNDED THE CORNERand walked downhill, past the Liberty Theatre to Hull Avenue. In the old days, this area was part of the Tenderloin, the toughest section of town.
Both Hull and Queen, the street below, had been lined with saloons, bordellos, and cribs. There was even a set of stairs that led down from Main Street—Husband’s Alley, it was called—a not-so-secret passageway for businessmen who wanted to spend the afternoon with a working girl.
Some of the old buildings remained, turned into souvenir shops, art galleries, and boutiques. Jenny wanted to see where the shooting—if it had actually happened—might have occurred. If Cleo were there, perhaps the woman could sense the exact spot the man had fallen.
Coming up empty, Jenny headed back up to Main, then on up the hill to the Jerome Public Library. The search through old newspapers was overwhelming. TheJerome Chronicle,1895; theJerome Mining News,1897; theDaily Newsand theReporter,1898, and at least half a dozen others.
There had to be a better way.
Spotting the librarian, Evelyn Dunning, one of the town’s most respected historians, Jenny went up to the front desk.
“Mrs. Dunning?” An attractive woman with silver-touched hair worn in a buzz cut, Evelyn wore tiny, round silver spectacles attached to a silver chain around her neck.
