Free Rainy Day Dreams: 2 by Virginia Smith, Lori Copeland

astonished look. “How could you possibly know all that? I met her barely an hour ago.”
    Louisa answered while spreading butter on a piece of bread. “Letitia.”
    “Ah.”
    The two women nodded at one another.
    “Who is Letitia?” Kathryn asked. Since her arrival she had met no one but Madame.
    “Letitia Coffinger.” She set down the butter knife. “She and her husband own the dry goods store next door. She saw Carter bringing you up from the docks, and as soon as she could, paid a visit to the Faulkner House. When she’d learned all she could from Madame, she came straight to my kitchen to relay what she’d heard. She’d barely been gone ten minutes before the messenger arrived bidding us to come here.” Her gaze slid to Jason. “I know a bit about you too, Mr. Gates, though not as much.”
    “Small towns are the same the world over.” Though Kathryn did not turn her head, she spied a good-humored grin on his face out of the corner of her eye. “A good thing I haven’t been free with information to Madame.”
    “Wise on your part, but extremely frustrating for those of us who rely on clothesline chatter for our news.”
    “Clothesline chatter?” Noah snorted. “Gossip, you mean.”
    She inclined her head. “If you insist.”
    “Speaking of news.” He glanced over his shoulder at the nearest table, where the men were focused on their plates, and then went on in a lowered voice. “What do you make of this latest attack?”
    David’s expression became grave. “It’s alarming, but not really surprising. If the report we heard is factual, those men over in Alki were tromping through the woods, exposed. They should have taken greater care.”
    “But they had a man missing. They couldn’t sit back and do nothing.”
    “Maybe if they’d taken a bigger posse they would have presented a more intimidating presence.” David shook his head, worry forming crevices on his brow. “After what we learned from Salmon Bay Curley, they should have been more cautious. We all should.”
    Beside her, Jason posed the question she wanted to ask. “Who is Salmon Bay Curley?”
    Balancing his fork on the rim of his plate, Noah provided the answer. “A Duwamish Indian friend of ours. Last year he told us he overheard some of the newcomers bragging about killing a white man and dumping his body in the forest over near Lake Union. We put together a search party and found the remains, or what was left of them. They apparently waylaid him in the woods, robbed, and murdered him. His skull was—”
    His glance slid sideways to connect with Kathryn’s, whose horror had blossomed as the tale unfolded. Whatever he had been planning to say remained unvoiced.
    He cleared his throat before continuing. “Anyway, we never found out who the fellow was. Probably a seaman from one of the San Francisco sailing vessels. Here in Seattle we’ve taken care not to venture too far alone since then.”
    Louisa tore her bread in half and laid part on Inez’s plate. “That’s why we live in town now. We used to have a cabin in a peaceful clearing, but with David working all day long, Inez and I were alone most of the time.”
    Kathryn didn’t bother to suppress a shudder. What kind of place had Papa sent her to?
    “Are we safe here?” She glanced around the cabin, suddenly fearful. Would ferocious Indians attack them while they ate?
    Evie leaned across the table to rest a hand on her arm. “Of course we are. We’ve never had any trouble in this vicinity. Why, we have Indian friends who live right here in town.”
    “We do.” Though he agreed in words, David’s expression remained troubled. “But even those friends are starting to worry. I think we need to do something.”
    Beside her, Jason leaned back in his chair. “What do you propose?”
    “Yeah, Denny, what are you thinking?”
    The voice came from the next table over. David turned his head to see who had spoken. Kathryn glanced around the room. Every eye was once again