She’d gone to his cabin the day before to talk to him about what she’d learned from Henry, but he wasn’t there. A note on the marshal’s office door said he had traveled out the rail line and would be back late Sunday or early Monday. But he hadn’t returned by lunch Monday. Worry gnawed at Charlotte’s gut, along with anticipation of talking to James about the case. Surely he was fine, and just delayed by weather or people bending his ear. “Miss Brody?” Glancing up, Charlotte saw Rebecca Derenov come toward her. “Hello, Rebecca,” she said, removing the key and rubbing it between her mittened hands. “How was school today?” Bundled head to toe, her cheeks red with the cold, the girl smiled. “Great. I got one hundred percent on my math test.” “Good for you!” Math wasn’t Charlotte’s strong suit, and she admired anyone who could do well in the subject. Rebecca reached under her coat and drew out a wrinkled piece of paper. “I have this week’s School Happenings for the Times.”
