The Ruby Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy) Read Online Free Page A

in 1852, but he couldn’t prove it. He couldn’t find that one piece of evidence that linked her to a family. No missing ruby brooch. No missing baby. His exhaustive research had ended five years earlier.
    Five years. Did Daddy stop looking before or after the attacks? She rubbed the scar on the left side of her neck. Probably afterwards.
    Kit sat back, pressed her warm palm against her forehead, hoping the pressure would supplant the tension headache. Wasn’t there more information on the web now than years earlier? Of course there was. Well, if she was going to continue her father’s research then all she had to do was dig into the time period between when he stopped working on the project and now.
    How long will it take? She sighed, unsure of anything other than her losses were wavering at an emotionally dangerous level. What she desperately needed a sense of control and a good working plan. Quickly, feeling ideas germinating, she snatched pen and paper from the desk drawer.
    Step One: Send an email to the professors and historians listed as contacts in the journal. They would know of any new diaries or letters. Step Two: Email historical societies. Step Three. She sat straight in the chair. Forget step three until one and two are exhausted.
    After bringing order to her thoughts, she fired off a group email to her father’s contacts then went back to bed, praying she wouldn’t have to outline Step Three.
     
     
    LATER THAT DAY, Kit checked her email. There was a response from the Oregon-California Trails Association. She held her breath and opened the email.
    The Barrett family donated an 1852 Oregon Trail journal to the Portland Historical Society three years ago. To read the online version, click here .
    She took a deep breath, then clicked the link.
    The author, Frances Barrett, wrote in sloppy print as she described the weather, food, and breath-stealing dust. Halfway through the June 1852 entries Kit read:
    June 16, 1852 South Pass. Mr. Montgomery found a wagon train full of murdered folks. Mr. and Mrs. Murray’s baby girl is missing.
    Kit’s heart pounded in her ears. The monogram on the locket and shawl had the letter M. What were the odds of finding parents with a missing baby and a last name beginning with that letter? Her insides were frantic now, unnerved by information that slashed through her composure.
    It took several minutes to rein in her thoughts. Finally, she typed a return email and copied all of her contacts asking for information about the Murray family who had traveled west in 1852. And, she specifically requested information about a wagon train full of murdered people discovered in South Pass in June of that year.
    All she could do now was chew her thumbnail and wait.
     
     
    KIT SLUMPED IN the desk chair, twirling the end of her ponytail around her finger, frustrated that none of her emails two days earlier had provided answers. In her periphery, she spotted Elliott standing in the doorway. She hadn’t spoken to him since telling him to go to hell.
    “We need to talk.” He shuffled to the wet bar. “Do you want some coffee?”
    “I’m off caffeine.”
    “Still having nightmares?”
    “Yep.”
    He poured himself a cup, then stirring sugar into the brew said, “I know you’re upset, but Sean asked me not to tell you.”
    “A course of action you obviously championed.”
    Elliott’s chest rose with a deep inhale, but his steady gaze never faltered. “I’m your godfather, Kit. Not your father.”
    She continued twirling her hair.
    “So what’s kept you locked up in here? Research?”
    “You know exactly what I’ve been doing. You’ve been here late at night reading my notes.” She pointed to an empty mug on the desk. “You could have cleaned up after yourself.”
    He tossed the stir stick onto the counter. “You left the notes out for me to read.”
    “So what do you think?
    “None of your trail experts have read another journal mentioning murdered people in South