Fatal as a Fallen Woman by Kathy Lynn Emerson Page A

suspect. Why else disappear just when the police wanted to arrest her? I'm sorry to say that there seems little question of your mother's guilt, Mrs. Spaulding."
    And he called himself a journalist! "To my mind, there is a great deal of question about her guilt, Col. Arkins. Is Mr. Burnett in the building?"
    "He is not, at present, in the office. Indeed, I am not certain when he'll be available to talk to you."
    "When I agree to cooperate, perhaps?"
    Col. Arkins shrugged. "I did you a favor once, Mrs. Spaulding. You might consider returning it."
    "What favor?"
    "When Evan Spaulding was murdered, your father asked me to hush up your connection to him. That saved you a lot of trouble, I expect. It would have made a sensational story—elopement, life with a company of players, murder." He shook his head regretfully. "Could have stirred up a lot of scandal at the time."
    Diana walked out of his office before she said something she'd regret . . . especially if it ended up on the front page of the newspaper. A few minutes later she was back out on the wooden sidewalk, once again seething with anger and frustration. She jumped when a familiar voice hailed her from the street.
    "Diana! There you are!" Matt Hastings waved from the high seat of his trap.
    Forcing a smile, Diana moved closer to the edge of the wide, dusty expanse of Curtis Street. The previous night she'd been too distracted to notice how shiny and new Matt's vehicle was, or that the two black horses harnessed to it with red leather were exceptionally well matched, both to each other and to the black trap with its red trim. "Good morning, Matt."
    "I've been looking for you. Miss Foster said you'd gone to talk to the chief of police and that you hoped to hire a lawyer."
    Diana nodded. She hadn't mentioned her intention to call on Col. Arkins.
    Matt jumped down, helped her onto the seat, then clambered back up himself. Without asking where she wanted to go, he turned the trap around and set off toward Holladay Street. En route he pointed out a two-story building at the corner of Sixteenth and Curtis. "That's the headquarters of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. The Denver office of the Pinkertons is the staging area for the entire region."
    "Are you suggesting I hire a detective to look for my mother?"
    "It's something to consider. And everyone knows private detectives have a reputation for being more efficient . . . and more honest . . . than local police forces."
    "And no doubt more expensive," she murmured. After a moment's hesitation, she related the gist of her encounters with Denver's police chief and premier criminal attorney.
    "Until your mother is found, there isn't much point in paying a lawyer," Matt said. "Besides, if you can't afford a hotel, you certainly can't manage an attorney's retainer."
    Diana fingered the bank draft in her pocket but decided not mention it. She'd hold the money in reserve. A hundred dollars would not have covered Mr. Patterson's hefty fee, but it was more than she wanted to carry around in cash. "How much do you charge?" she asked Matt.
    "Oh, I'd be no good to you, Diana. I specialize in civil cases. Libel suits. Divorces. I did help Elmira with a small matter a few years ago, but there wasn't much I could do for her. Your father was her opponent in the case. He was a powerful man, Diana. And ornery when he was riled."
    He turned onto Holladay Street. It was barely noon and still quiet, although the residents of the parlor houses were by now awake. The saloons were already open for business.
    "Do they ever close?" Diana asked.
    "A bell rings for midnight curfew, but it is usually ignored. So is the law that bans saloons and gambling houses from opening on Sunday. Of course, strictly speaking, prostitution and gambling are illegal at any time. I don't like you staying here, Diana."
    "I need to be at the Elmira, at least for awhile." She hopped down from the trap on her own. "Thank you for bringing me . . . home."
    He winced at the word