She bent down and felt underneath the bed until her fingers found a folded sheet of paper. Pulling it out, she wondered what it could be. She’d never seen Anna writing anything.
Delia unfolded the sheet. It was a letter.
Dear Mr. Snyder,
Thank you for your concern for my daughter. I reassure you she is safe and well cared for here in Crest Stone with me and my wife. We intend to keep her here and raise her. She’s grown comfortable with the town and with us. I have excellent employment with a hotel, and Anna wants for nothing.
Yours,
M. Foster
Delia blinked at the page. It was a letter from Max. The one he clearly wrote to Anna’s grandfather and posted a week or so ago.
What was it doing here?
He couldn’t have forgotten to send it. He’d posted it the very next day after writing it, first thing in the morning.
Delia looked up as another possibility entered her mind.
Quickly, she scanned Anna’s little corner. There were no dresses hanging on the pegs. Her circus book, which normally sat on the little table next to her bed, was gone. Her hairbrush and favorite ribbons were missing.
A shiver ran up Delia’s spine as the letter floated from her hand to the floor. She knew now exactly what had happened.
Mr. Snyder had come for Anna. And while Delia had gone out earlier, he’d brought Anna back here to gather her things.
Delia forced the fear down and spurred herself into action. Grabbing the letter from the floor, she ran to the door, not stopping for hat or gloves or anything to protect herself from the chill night air.
She ran toward the main road as if she were being chased by a pack of wolves. Clutching the letter to her skirts, she looked both ways down the road. Where was Max? Or the marshal?
Frantic, but needing to do something, she ran toward the depot before she realized there was no way Mr. Snyder could have boarded a train. No train had left Crest Stone between the time Delia had last seen Anna and now.
She forced herself to stop, but her heart continued racing. She looked around, wishing that Max or Marshal Wright would appear. When they didn’t, her mind lurched toward where Mr. Snyder might have taken Anna. She doubted he’d have ridden them on horses to Cañon City. That was much too far for a child to ride, and besides, from what Max had told her, Mr. Snyder didn’t seem the sort to opt for hours on horseback when he could afford to pay for rail travel.
That meant they still had to be in town.
Hope buoyed her heart as she looked around her. She just had to figure outwhere.
It took seconds for her to narrow down the options. He wouldn’t have chosen Liam’s hotel if he deduced that Max worked there. Besides, Liam would have recognized Anna with a stranger in an instant. That left the large Crest Stone Hotel up on the hill, or the only nice boardinghouse in town—Darby’s.
Delia wanted to run to both at the same time, but instead, she forced herself to visit the county sheriff’s office. With Marshal Wright out looking for Anna, she took a chance that Sheriff Hunt or one of his deputies might be in the office.
Her luck held, and after informing the deputy of what she discovered and requesting that he locate Max or the marshal, she ran for the closest of the two possibilities.
Darby’s Boardinghouse was quiet this time of the evening. It was past supper, and most of the guests had either retired to their rooms or were gathered in the parlor. Delia burst in, and after one look at her, Miss Darby’s eyebrows shot up in concern.
“My dear,” she said. “Is everything all right? Do you need a room?”
Delia shook her head and held up the letter before realizing that Miss Darby would have no idea what the letter meant. “I’m looking for a man and a girl. Mr. Samuel Snyder. The girl’s name is Anna Foster—or she might have said Anna Snyder—and she’seleven years old with golden hair and brown eyes and a pink dress—” She forced herself to stop talking so that Miss Darby might be able to tell her whether she’d seen them.
“Oh,” Miss Darby said, clearly surprised at Delia’s frantic outburst. “Yes, a Mr. Snyder took two rooms earlier, one for himself and one for the young lady. Did you wish to see them?”
Delia nodded, relief flooding her from head to toe.
“Let’s see.” Miss Darby opened the ledger at the desk and moved her lamp closer to its pages. “I put the young miss upstairs with the ladies, and Mr. Snyder down here with the gentlemen.” She rattled off two room numbers.
Delia thanked her. “I expect my husband or Marshal Wright will be here shortly. If I haven’t returned from upstairs, will you tell them what you told me?”
“Of course,” Miss Darby said with wide eyes. “Is Mr. Snyder dangerous?”
