Waiting for the Moon

city for brain surgery and a soul replacement. It certainly should be true."

"Fine."

An awkward silence fell into the carriage. Ian stared out the window, seeing little beyond the jostling blur of white and green.

Finally the carriage jerked to a stop. There was a scrambling overhead, then a thump, and the door creaked open. Ian's driver, Fergus, stood in the opening, his breath coming in great plumed feathers. He hooked a thumb at the building behind him. "There's the office, sir."

"Good. Unload my things, Fergus, and engage me another carriage. I shall be going on to New York City posthaste."

"And Mr. Strassborg?"

Ian's gaze remained steady. "Mr. Strassborg will be taking my carriage back to Lethe House immediately ... where he belongs."

"Ah, Ian." Johann's voice rang with derision. "You wound me to the quick."

Ian ignored the soft cadence of Johann's laughter as he jumped out of the carriage and strode up the dirt path to the squat, single-storied clapboard building that housed Alabaster's jail, courthouse, and post office.

At the door, he paused, then drew a deep breath and pushed through.

The room was large and airy, lit by several lanterns that hung suspended from rough-hewn beams across the ceiling. In the corner, a thin, stoop-shouldered old man sat behind a rickety wooden desk, a heap of rusty keys by his hand.

The old man looked up, an expectant light in his pale eyes. "Hello." He planted his hands on the desk and pushed to his feet. Stepping around the desk, he shuffled toward Ian, his hand outstretched in greeting. "Jed Larkham. What can I do for you, young man?"

Ian stared at the big-knuckled, gnarled hand. Instinc-

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tively he drew back and shoved his hands in the huge pockets of his cloak. "I'm Dr. Ian Carrick."

Jed jerked to a dead stop and yanked his hand back. Recognition widened his rheumy eyes and leeched the color from his cheeks. "Dr. Carrick." He whispered the name, glanced at the exit door behind him. "What a surprise. We'd heard-" He realized apparently that to speak was to err and snapped his mouth shut.

Ian's lips shifted in an amused sneer. "I'm sure you have."

Jed swallowed hard and hurried back to the safety of his desk, sitting down with an audible sigh. Only after long moments had passed in awkward silence did he look up. "Why are you in Alabaster?"

Ian walked across the room and sat down in the chair opposite the old man. "I've found a girl ... woman ..." He paused, trying to find the right words.

Jed strummed his finger nervously on the desk. "A 1-local girl?"

Ian's chin snapped up. He stared at the man through narrowed eyes. "This is not a matter of the heart, Mr. Larkham. The woman has come into my care in a medical matter. I simply want to return her to her family."

"Oh." The man's relief was palpable. "If you'll give me her name, I can tell you-"

"That's the problem," he answered. "She's suffered an injury to her brain from some manner of fall or collision. She doesn't recall her name ... or much else, for that matter. But someone out there must know an adult woman who is missing."

"You offering a reward?"

"And draw every crackpot for a thousand miles? No, thanks. I want someone-hopefully her family-to claim her, not just a pile of money."

Jed pulled his drawer open and extracted a sheet of paper and a pen. "What does she look like?"

"That's a problem, as well. She's bruised extensively. So much so that I cannot accurately describe her features.

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However, she has very long, reddish brown hair and brown eyes. I suppose she's about five foot seven inches tall." He thought a bit, trying to come up with anything else that would help her family identify her. "She has all her teeth and came to us without jewelry. Her age is probably somewhere between eighteen and fifty."

Jed set his pen down and plopped his chin in the palm of his hand. "This doesn't help much."