By Jess Butcher
Demise is ready to descend upon tiny Muleshoe, Kansas. Mike Bishop has arrived within the sleepy little city on a venture to get better a mythical cache of infrequent gold cash and accomplice forex. yet others are racing to get well the treasure in addition.
Local Sheriff Laura Moss carefully joins Bishop in his seek. jointly they unearth a depressing mystery; a mystery with roots relationship again to the Civil conflict, William Quantrill’s deliberate assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, and an unexplained sequence of grisly neighborhood murders spanning greater than a century.
The line among solid and evil blurs as Bishop and Sheriff Moss fight to outlive a murderous neighborhood legend … a legend that threatens to show the Kansas prairie black with blood.
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Additional resources for Muleshoe
Faulkner. That is the other reason why I preferred to entrust this matter to you. Mr. Faulkner does not know me well. Florence and I met each other socially, four months ago. We have become good friends. " "No, sir. " "Hair standing on end. For which a suitable medical term would be? " Murchison frowned and shook his head. " "It is known as horripilation. " "Yes, sir. But it is not horra—horri-pil-ation, as I have read of it. Florence does not see gooseflesh, nor feel any sense of cold or terror when it happens.
The rest of us have said quite enough. " The guests nodded, all but an aged aunt of Jacob Pole. She was very hard of hearing, but with wine at hand she seemed quite content and didn't mind missing the conversation. "Anyone who came to hear me will be disappointed," Darwin said. " He glanced around the room, well lit by wall candelabra and ceiling chandeliers, and found every eye on him. " He told it carefully, summarizing everything from the arrival of the messenger at the Boar's Head Tavern to his own departure from the Exhibition Hall for Faulkner's house.
Faulkner stood up. "As I must be gone now. I have a meeting across the river in Southwark. " Darwin nodded, but he did not rise as their companion buttoned his heavy coat and strode out into the gloom and chill of a February fog. He poured more beef tea, for himself and Jacob Pole. " "You mean, if I could not help you? " Darwin was absentmindedly eating his way through the whole tray of cheese and pork savories. " "Hmph. Well—" Pole's reply was interrupted. The young man who had been hovering by the tavern wall stepped forward to the table.
Muleshoe by Jess Butcher