Page 16 of Cloaked in Beauty

The men groused and grumbled, but they didn’t resist the shooing. They stalked off in different directions, too, as soon as they cleared the doorway. Hopefully to cool off. Philip kept an eye on Kauffman, noting that he did, in fact, turn the corner at the edge of the block.

Eager for an excuse to make his own departure, Philip tipped his hat to the helpful clerk and murmured his thanks as he edged away from the counter.

The clerk raised a hand in farewell. “If you track Iris down, tell her Will Cosgrove sends his regards.”

Philip grinned. “I’ll do that.”

Renewed optimism brought a spring to Philip’s step as he stepped out onto the boardwalk. He’d found Flora Anderson! Well, technically, he’d found her base of operations, not the lady herself, but it was only a matter of time. And he was pretty certain he’d just uncovered evidence of Scarlett Radcliffe as well. A female ghost in a bloody cape roaming the woods? Kauffman’s specter sounded an awful lot like a young woman who liked to wear red hooded cloaks. One who apparently kept company with wolves. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that particular tidbit, but he figured a girl who’d been forced to grow up in isolation would be hungry for whatever companionship she could find.

Breaking into a jog, Philip turned south on First Street, wanting to catch up with Kauffman. Between the two loggers who’d been on the ridge, Kauffman seemed the more likely to provide the information Philip sought. Thankfully, he hadn’t flown the coop. A man in a sling strode down the street a few yards ahead of him, veering toward a pair of old-timers playing checkers atop an upturned barrel.

“Hey, Kauffman,” Philip called before his quarry could become enmeshed in another conversation. “Hold up!”

Kauffman glanced over his shoulder, his face still red with temper. “What do you want?”

Philip slowed and manufactured his best commiserative expression. “I just wanted to say that I think that other fella was out of line. Any man can fall off a horse when caught by surprise. It’s happened to me more than once.” When he was a kid, but he’d not make that distinction. Besides, he wasn’t so arrogant as to believe it couldn’t happen to him. Given the right set of circumstances, even the most experienced horseman could lose his seat.

Some of the belligerence eased from Kauffman’s features. “Thanks.”

Philip dropped his voice and glanced around as if ensuring no one could overhear. “I was hoping you could give me directions to the haunted ridge. I’d like to try to find your wraith. See her for myself.”

“Shoot. Only a crazy man would want to meet a ghost.”

Philip shrugged. “Might be my only chance.”

Kauffman shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” He pointed north with his good arm. “Go up to the depot and take the road by the old ironworks. Follow that a couple miles out of town. You’ll come to a fork. Take the path that leads to the right. It ain’t much more than a set of wagon ruts, but it leads up to the ridge. When the path disappears, you’re on your own, but you’ll be deep enough in the woods by then to do your searchin’.”

Philip tipped his hat. “Much obliged.”

Kauffman nodded in return. “Just don’t shoot at her wolves. She don’t take too kindly to that.”

“Good advice. Thanks.” Philip backed away, eager to fetch Steele and be on his way.

Before he could make it back to Houston Street, a man in a station agent’s uniform ran across First a block north of Philip’s position and disappeared into a small building. Odd for a trainman to leave his post. Especially in such a small town where one man handled all the ticketing, telegraph, and baggage duties on his own. Intrigued, Philip continued down the road, lengthening his stride until he reached the building.

They’d already determined that Flora Anderson had to have an ally at a railroad depot, someone who could slip envelopes and photographs into unsuspecting passengers’ bags. The station agent he’d just spotted could very well be that ally. So what had the man so bothered?

Philip drew near enough to hear voices filter into the street through the door that had been left open.

“Please, Doc, I don’t have time to explain. You just gotta come. I think her heart gave out.”

“This is quite irregular. How could you possibly know that Mrs. Hood collapsed in her home? I can’t afford to go traipsing off on a wild goose chase when I might be needed here. Mrs. Ellmore’s baby is due any day. I promised her husband I’d not travel any more than absolutely necessary. After losing their first to a stillbirth, they’re terrified they might lose this one as well.”

“I’m sorry about the Ellmores. Truly. But it’ll only take an hour. Two at most. Surely you can spare that. I’ll drive you there myself. My son’s covering the station for me.”

“How do you even know where to go? From what I hear, Mrs. Hood is fiercely protective of her privacy. No one knows precisely where she lives. For all I know this could be some elaborate ruse to get me away from town so you can do me in.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake. Why would I possibly want to do you in?” The man fairly growled in frustration. “Iris and I were schoolmates as children, if you must know. I was the one who bought the old hunting cabin she lives in so she’d have a place away from town. A messenger showed up at the station a few minutes ago and told me of her collapse. Now, please, let’s go.”

“All right, all right. Quit your badgering, Darby. I’ll fetch my bag.”

“Thank you. I’ll collect my son’s wagon and team and be back in five minutes.”

Philip immediately pivoted and started walking back the way he’d come, keeping his stride casual and unhurried. He doubted Mr. Darby would pay him any attention in his agitated state, but the more anonymity Philip preserved, the better. Besides, he needed to retrieve Steele if he was going to tail the doctor’s wagon.

It seemed he’d secured himself a guide to Flora Anderson’s hideaway. He just prayed it hadn’t come at the expense of her life.

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