“I could get a job as Oliver Hawkins’s housekeeper and go in there and snoop around. You were searching for evidence of Amelia Bishop, but now that we know of other missing housekeepers and what happened to his wife, well, a housekeeper is in every room of the house. She dusts shelves, tidies up desk drawers.” Molly found the first smile since she’d been fired. She suspected it wasn’t a nice smile.

“You don’t know how to be a Pinkerton agent, Molly.”

Molly came to Rachel’s side and clutched her arm. “You could teach me. And I could come to town for supplies or weekly to church and report on anything I’d found. And I could see how Oliver treats me. And between us we could figure out—”

Rachel held up a hand, palm flat, almost in Molly’s face.

“Don’t tell me no,” Molly said desperately. “I need a job. And I need to help.”

“Why do you need a job? You’ve got a good life right here.”

“What Oliver did to his wife . . . it makes me sick. I—that is, my ma, well, she suffered at the hands of my pa. I won’t stand by and do nothing while a man gets away with that.”

Rachel stared at Molly for a long time. Finally, she muttered, “Statute of limitations.” Then she went back to getting the meal ready.

“I think we can work together, you and me,” Rachel said. “I think you have the skills you need to be an agent and a housekeeper, and maybe we can stop this man from killing again.”

Molly touched Rachel’s arm. Their eyes met. Molly felt hers brim with tears, but she staved them off. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t become a Pinkerton because it interested me. I’ve seen men who needed to be brought to justice in my life, too.” Rachel nodded. “There’s a lot to it. And it will be a job. You’ll earn money from the Pinkerton Agency for this.”

Molly hadn’t expected that. “Hawkins will be paying me, won’t he?”

“Yes, but when you work for me, you get paid by me. We need to talk long and hard. I can tell you Hawkins has a safe I was never able to crack, and I believe he has another hidden, but I was never able to find it. But I did find—”

Wyatt came down from changing. His eyes flicked back and forth between the two women. “Now what’s happened?”

Molly looked at the Pinkerton agent, who nodded.

Molly threw her hands wide and said, “I’ve got another job.”

“If you really believe he’s a murderer, you can’t send her in there.”