Killing Dreams ~An American Victorian Steampunk Murder Mystery

Chapter 1 Part 2

Chapter 1 Part 2

The Captain and Bill shook hands. He smiled a bit and dipped his head toward Patches. She noted his smile did not touch his steel grey eyes. "Uh, may I come in? I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you."

"Of course, of course, please come in," Bill stepped back to allow the Captain access.

"May I take your coat, Captain?" Patches asked.

"No thank you, Ma'am," the Captain said his response polite. "I can only stay for a few minutes."

"Shall we go to the parlor then?" Patches asked with a sweep of her hand. The Captain went straight to the fireplace but hesitated at the sight of the little forced air furnace that sat in the almost empty masonry space. However, the generous portion of heat it emitted soon had him rubbing his hands in front of the heat-proof glass window that allowed the bright yellow-white light of the fire to scatter across the room in an interesting prism like pattern.

"I see you have the new electrical lighting," Weston commented, pointing to the incandescent fixture in the middle of the room. The light glinted off the ring he wore on his right hand.

"Yes," Patches said. "My husband is an absolute fiend for all the latest scientific developments. We still have the coal-fired generator he bought for this house before the first lines were strung from the city dynamo. Can I offer you something to drink?"

Captain Weston paused to assess the woman before him. She was very small, a notably striking contrast to her husband who was one of the tallest men he had ever seen. She wore a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a matching calico vest, and a long, blue, strangely shaped skirt that seemed to contain more material than average. The skirt was made even more peculiar looking by an apron that seemed not nearly wide enough and much too long.

Her fiery red hair was pulled to the nape of her neck and trailed over one shoulder hanging almost to her knees in a thick braid. This was highly irregular as the style for most women was with the hair coiled on top of the head, but considering its impossible length, he supposed that would be difficult. She also wore the most unusual pair of dark blue glasses. Weston thought she was, at the very least, odd.

"No thank you," he said turning his attention back to Bill. "Just to be sure, you are the Doctor McDowell who was a U.S. Marshal in the Tucson area several years ago?"

TO BE CONTINUED

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