“Hmm?”
“Why is Amanda bringing this to your attention now? If she didn’t know that you’ve been Fedora’s regular escort since before she left the Butterworth, what’s happened that she knows about it now?”
“I asked her that. She was vague. She wouldn’t say more than that someone told her.”
“I suppose that’s a long list of suspects.”
“You have no idea.”
“Odd that no one said anything to her earlier. Is that something they would purposely keep from her?”
Hitch frowned, struck by the question. “No. No, it’s not.”
“So perhaps the list isn’t that long after all.”
“That’s something to think about.”
“You do that and let me know what you come up with. No special reason, just that I’m interested. Are you going to tell Fedora?”
“No. It will make her unhappy. She might refuse to allow me to walk with her. She’s already conscious of people watching her.”
“Anyone in particular?”
“She’s never said. I think it’s a general sense of being watched because there are people who don’t want her here. I don’t get it myself. She’s never hurt anyone.”
“You took her out to shoot.”
“With Ellie. And it was Ellie’s idea for Fedora to be comfortable managing her own protection. Fedora’s real sharp with a rifle, but she couldn’t hit a barn door with a six-shooter if her life depended on it. It’s too heavy for her small hands, even with a double grip. She pulls her shot every time. Goes up. Goes down. Goes wide. Ellie gave up so you know it was bad. I haven’t taken them out but that once.”
“What about a derringer?”
“The thing is,” said Hitch, “she’s firm about not wanting to shoot anyone. She won’t agree to carry one. Ellie offered Fedora hers, but she turned it down. My opinion? I don’t think anyone wants to hurt her, but if someone could scare her off, there’d be folks satisfied with that.”
“She still gets threats?”
Hitch nodded. “One or two every week. She got one yesterday. Someone slid it under her door. She showed it to me. Big block letters with a simple message: GO HOME. She was born in California, for God’s sake, but no one seems to care about that. Some of the other messages refer to the yellow peril or the yellow terror. They’re all disturbing.”
“It’s hard to believe Mrs. Brady doesn’t know who put the last note under Fedora’s door.”
“She’s not saying. I asked. I think she’s fears the consequences of speaking up.”
“Really? Who would dare retaliate? That woman could frighten the devil with her gimlet eye.”
Hitch chuckled, his humor returning at last. “Right you are.” He stood. “I’ll let you get back to your interviewing. Good day for it. Better to be in than out. Must be half a foot of new snow by now. Dang me if Maxwell didn’t say so.”
Roen merely sighed.
Chapter Thirty-one
Lily was sitting up in bed with a book in her lap when Roen finally joined her. She continued to read while he stripped down to his drawers and washed at the basin. He replenished the coals in the stove and padded to his side of the bed, where he removed his socks. He did this last more slowly than usual and was equally unhurried about turning back the covers and dimming the lamp. Lily closed her book with rather more force than was necessary. She saw Roen’s head snap up when he heard the sound.
“Oh, you’re still reading,” he said. “I hadn’t realized.”
Lily put the book aside. “That’s because you’re preoccupied with your own thoughts, and you have been since you came home. I noticed you smiling at the children when they told you about what they’d been doing, but I don’t think you heard a word they said.”
“I heard.”
Lily didn’t press. There was a hint of defensiveness in Roen’s tone that told her she was right. “I looked over the list of applicants you signed up today like you asked, but you haven’t wanted to know what I think. Do you want to know now?”
