This was Main Street, downtown Independence, the oldest part of the community. There were about twenty shops lining the narrow street, which had been laid out when cars and horse-drawn wagons competed for space. It was easy to imagine what the town had looked like a hundred years ago. Almost all of the multistoried buildings were made of brick and stone and had their roots in the mining boom of the early 1900s. They’d been upgraded many times, and during prosperous years the businesses here had flourished. Farther down the street were single-story, flat-roofed adobe structures. Those had been built in the Southwest style associated with the Pueblo tribes and early Spanish influence. But the adobe buildings were in the worst shape, since regular maintenance was costly. Myka stopped in front of the inn and took a moment to admire the red roses etched on the glass transom above the entrance. They spoke of the grandeur and elegance of days gone by and stood in stark contrast to the chipped mortar and flaking paint which exposed the wood trim.
