his boots. This woman, whoever she was, didn't seem like a fool, either. He hated drawing in outside help, but she was right. He didn't have time for spook hunting with all of his regular duties as Leadville marshal, and he didn't want to risk sending one of his deputies after something that dangerous. Problem was, he didn't know this woman from Eve. She could have butchered the wolfers herself for all he knew. Still, if she could really take care of the problem, he'd be a fool to turn her down.
After a long silence, his blue eyes came back up to her face. "So what do you want from me?"
TWO
From atop Our Lady of Virginia, Cora Oglesby surveyed what remained of the scene. Above them, the noonday sun filtered through the evergreens, dappling the mare's chestnut coat. Our Lady snorted and flicked an ear. Despite the marshal's warnings of carnage, both horse and rider were unconcerned by the clearing spread out before them.
Then again, there wasn't much to be concerned about.
Cora pounded the saddle horn and cursed. "That Mart Duggan is a damn fool," she said.
"How's that?" Ben asked, nudging his gelding up beside her to see for himself.
"If he'd led us out here when we first asked him to, there might have been something to see," she said. "A trail of blood, or footprints, or some leftover guts, or something. But no, he has us sit in our hotel room a full week while he runs our story past that good-for-nothing sheriff Jim Barnes. 'Can't associate with no criminals,' he says while he lets the real monster just slip away."
"No use worrying about that now," Ben said.
"I'll fret about it if I want to." Cora sighed and dismounted.
She gave Our Lady a pat on the neck, then looked up at her husband. "Don't fall asleep, now."
Ben nodded. Cora pulled her rifle from the saddle scabbard and stepped toward the clearing. Scavengers had picked the area clean, leaving only a few rust-colored stains behind. She made a full circle around the area without finding much of anything. Another sigh filled the cold air around her. If only they could have gotten here sooner. Still, even with the scavenger's tracks, she could tell that nothing big enough to kill the wolfers had been through the clearing. It was as if the men just vanished in a bloody mist.
She was intrigued.
A crow's call broke the silence. Cora scowled up at the interruption. The black bird perched about fifteen feet above her head, its feathers gleaming in a patch of sunlight. It crowed again, turning to stare at her through one beady black eye. She considered blowing the smug look off of its face with her rifle, then thought better of it. Her bullets were too valuable to waste on animals, no matter how irritating they might be.
Rocks, however, were much cheaper. She slipped the rifle into her shoulder scabbard, knelt down and began digging through the snow. She rejected several stones before finding one that felt right. Standing up, she was glad to see that the offending bird hadn't moved from its perch. She smiled and drew her arm back, ready to see feathers fly, when she noticed something.
"Hey, Ben," she said over her shoulder, "come have a look at this."
Ben tossed his reins onto a nearby branch and walked up next to her. "What am I looking at?"
Cora pointed at the crow's perch. The branch the bird sat on was broken, jutting out from the pine's trunk like a snapped bone. From what she could see, the break was still white and clean. A single black feather drifted down and settled on the snow at the tree's base. Acting on instinct, Cora walked over and picked it up. It was about as long as her gloved hand and boasted a glossy sheen, but there wasn't anything unusual about it.
Frustrated, she let the feather drop from her fingers. It floated off to her left, lighting on a branch sticking out from the snow. Cora's brow furrowed as she leaned down for a closer look. The scent of pine sap drifted up to meet her from the fresh break in the wood. She lifted the branch out of the drift, grunting from the effort. Shaking the snow from its needles, she hoisted it upright and leaned it against the tree's trunk. The branch was nearly as tall as she was and too thick for the fingers of one hand to wrap around.