“I’ve done some study of killers like this, the ones who do it out of some mad need for power over a woman. They often keep a record of those they kill or collect something that belonged to them. A keepsake of some kind. It’s part of that need for power. If Hawkins is the kind of man I think he is, he’ll have something from each woman. There’s a good chance he has it in his secret safe.”

Wyatt’s stomach twisted at the thought of a man collecting things from women he’d killed. There was no color left in Molly’s face. But she also looked determined. Quietly, he reached across the table and rested a hand on Molly’s little clenched fist. “You shouldn’t do this.”

Molly met his gaze. “I probably shouldn’t. It’s not safe. But how many people protect themselves at the expense of another life? How many women die at the hands of brutal men while other people refuse to interfere? Hawkins isn’t an elderly man. If he was, maybe we could lie to ourselves that his life is almost over, and God would sort him out in the next life. But he has time to hurt or kill more women. I will not stand by in safety while he goes on his way. Not when I can help.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a long moment.

“You’re going to have to leave Molly alone, Wyatt.”

He snatched his hand away and glared at Hobart.

She didn’t even flinch.

Wyatt had to admit, to himself only, that he had a sneaking admiration for Rachel Hobart. He’d made more than one man back down with his glare. She looked right back at him and never wavered.

“If she’s to do any true detective work. Part of her job is observing the way Hawkins treats her. He’ll move slow, but he will move. He did with me. In some ways it’s a shame Cheyenne found Amelia because Hawkins’s behavior was becoming alarming.”

“Then why was it a shame you got out of there?” Molly asked.

Hobart’s teeth clenched. “Because I wanted him to try to hurt me, so I could make him sorry. I wanted the pleasure of fighting him when he attacked. I’m not some helpless young miss who doesn’t know how to protect herself. When he finally acted with violence, I would have come back at him hard, and I would have won. And he’d’ve hanged by now.”

Admiration burned in Molly’s eyes. Wyatt had thought Molly might end up married to him. Instead, she looked like she wanted to team up with Rachel Hobart and head east to become a Pinkerton agent.

Wyatt rubbed both hands over his face. “He’ll know I’m there with her. He won’t bother her.”