Margaret Thorne's Story

Anna smirked wryly in return, nudging Margaret back. "You'll have your own pack soon enough. I had the blessing of a good mentor for these last few years. It is satisfying, but..." She still would have gladly stepped back down for the chance to work with Horatio on another mission, especially one with such dark tidings. But all she could do was briefly pray once more that his own search would be successful, and return her focus to her own. "But I still would hope it would not be too soon that you are off with your own. I would like for us to be able to ride together for awhile longer." She said with another faint smile, before pausing as she followed Margaret's gaze to the beggar

She wrinkled her nose with distaste at the sight of the beggar. It was a blemish on the city's preacher, to leave one of his flock adrift, instead of guiding him towards honest labor. There were no beggars in New Life, after all. But chastising preachers for such a minor matter was far from her duties, even without such a vital mission as there was now. She would need the preacher's full focus on the missing Dogs when she questioned him. She simply took a coin from her coat pocket, giving the woman a cursory glance as she tossed the coin into her hat and continued onwards. There was too much work to be done already and Anna strode onwards up to the steps of the church.

Margaret spared one last glance toward the beggar, before moving along with Anna. There was something odd about her, something that nagged at her mind, but she didn't have time to really dwell on the matter. Instead, she walked up the steps with her companion, getting up there first and opening the front door for the both of them.

"Worry not, Anna. I'm sure we'll be riding together for some time." she replied to her friend's last words, even as her eyes took in the sight of the church itself.

The front door opened to a wide and opulent looking chapel. Pews made up the majority of the space, at least on the first floor. Margaret spotted a door near the entrance that was closed, which she supposed might lead up to the second story of the building itself. To the back of the chapel there was a large podium, likely where the priest spoke from. And in the back, see could see more closed doors: either other entrances to the floors above, or they led into a different area, perhaps a kitchen or a room for prayer.

Thankfully, they wouldn't have to go about searching for the Father, as they spotted him near the back of the pews, sitting on one of the benches and reading the Book of Life. And as the Dogs approached, he looked up from his holy book, perhaps sensing their presence.

He stood up to greet them, smiling kindly at them. He seemed to be an older man, perhaps in his fifties or sixties. While he may not have been old enough to have been one of the town's founders, certainly he seemed old enough to have seen Abernathy change and develop these last few decades. Growing from a small frontier town, to one of the most populous cities in the Deseret, only behind New Life itself in terms of population and prestige. It made Margaret wonder how the old man had changed with the town, or if he was one of the stubborn few who refused to change with the times.

"Greetings, my dear sisters. I am Father Joseph Mycroft, Head Abbot of the First Church of Abernathy. How may I help you two today?" the older man sweetly inquired.

Charles grinned wide, letting out a low chuckle. "Who are we to deny the gifts of the Almighty, even the temporary ones?" He said as he let open the door for Sonia, following her into the hotel. He promptly whistled quietly as he looked about the lavish opulence of the lobby. It was the sort of sight he hadn't seen since his youth in Richmond, aside from the meager attempts of luxuries that railroad bosses would furnish their sleeper cars with. The hotel most certainly was what could be called Eastern hedonism and waste, or so the preachers would say. All the more reason that a savvy hotel owner might offer such luxury to appease a wary Dog and belay any judgments. But the question remained if they might have reason to suspect him after all, for more than just his catering of the rich.

"Afternoon, sir." He said to the clerk as he sauntered up to the desk, smiling politely and tipping his hat. "We here are Watchdogs of the Lord. Charles Carver, and my partner Sonia Redwood. M'guessing you have a mite bit of an idea of why we are here." He would let the clerk run to his own conclusions, for the moment, and watch carefully for his first reaction.

The clerk considered the both of them with renewed interest, though the sour grimace that briefly covered his face showed his unease. But, well, it wasn't too surprising. Even those who had nothing to had from the Watchdogs could grow uneasy and nervous around them. Most Dogs were an intimidating lot, and many found it hard to be kind or friendly to strangers, after years of seeing the worst of what the Deseret had to offer.

"Ah, yes. The owner said more of you would be arriving soon." the clerk began. "Mister Hershel, the hotel's owner, would like to extend the same offer to you, as he did the previous set of Dogs. You two, and any companions you may have, are guaranteed free room and board here at the Hotel Lancaster, if you wish."

"That's mighty gracious of Mister Hershel." Sonia replied, nodding her head. "But, we aren't here about getting ourselves rooms. What do you know about the 'previous set' of Dogs that came here? Did they stay here at all? If they did, when was the last time you saw them?"

The clerk covered his mouth with his hand briefly, closing his eyes as he considered his words carefully. "I work the main desk here during the day, so I saw...forgive me, I cannot recall their names, but I saw the gentleman and lady Dog check in here two weeks ago, when they first arrived. They stayed here two nights that I'm aware of, and they did not come back on the third night. We merely presumed they had concluded their business in Abernathy, and had gone their way. But, well, that doesn't seem to be the case now, from what the Sheriff has told us."

Anna smiled widely to Margaret at that promise, nodding with a brief grin. "Of course we will." She said, the beggar most certainly already out of her mind as they continued down the street. Her quiet friendliness faded, however, back behind a rigidly calm expression once she followed Margaret into the church, ready as the stern Dog once more.

She pulled off her hat as she stepped inside, murmuring a prayer as she looked to the altar, and then to the preacher sitting nearby. "Anna Ward." She introduced herself with a polite smile to the old man before gesturing over to her friend. "Margaret Throne. We have been tasked with finding our missing comrades, Justin Meyer and Eliza Ford. Did they pass through here, a short time ago?"

Her gaze flicked back and forth between the old man and the interior of the church, carefully surveying her surroundings before she eyed him just as intently as she would anyone else in her investigations. She couldn't afford to be lax and make presumptions, even from a holy man, when two of her own had gone missing a place where they should have been safer than ever.

"Ah, you are Watchdogs of the Lord then." Father Mycroft nodded at them, his face shifting into a more serious and grave expression. "I heard tale from the Sheriff that they had gone missing. I've been praying for their souls ever since. I am not sure what I can tell you that would help, however. Dogs Meyer and Ford did come to my church to pray and seek my counsel, though it was not for long on most occasions. I recall seeing them for perhaps...two days at the most, before they disappeared. I had assumed they'd gone on their way, and left things at that. I regret that now, however."

Margaret nodded lightly as she listened to the preacher's words. They didn't particularly surprise her, though there was always the hope someone they'd interview would offer clear, case-breaking details right off the bat. Alas, that didn't seem to be the case here.

"What did you counsel them on? Did they speak with you on anything in particular?" she inquired after a moment.

At that, Father Mycroft shook his head. "I held confession with Dog Ford twice, though I am unable to say what we spoke of. Breaking the seal of the confessional booth is a grave sin, I'm sure you understand. I could be excommunicated for even hinting at what was spoken in confidence. Outside of confession...Justin and Eliza did ask me to lead them in prayer, bless their weapons, and they asked me some general questions. How to get about town, where the best places to eat were, where to get horses for their journey to Red Road. General, mundane things such as that."

Margaret frowned at that. Not particularly helpful information, that. And of course Father Mycroft couldn't speak of anything said in the confessional. Hell, if he did, then she and Anna, as Dogs, had every right to take him into custody to face trial and potential excommunication from the Ministry of Social Order. Breaking the bond of Confession was one of the highest sins a priest could commit under the Faith. It just made Margaret hope that whatever Eliza Ford had discussed with Father Mycroft over Confession, wouldn't be important for their quest.

Still, he'd told them where to find horses? That would be a good lead to follow up on. It might be able to tell them whether or not Ford and Meyer had left town before they'd disappeared.

"Although..." Father Mycroft continued after a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. "There was one other thing. They also questioned me about the recent fire. Though, I'm sure I didn't tell them much the Sheriff hadn't already told them."

Charles kept up a friendly smile, even at the sight of the clerk's mild distress. He certainly wouldn't blame him for nervousness, but he was the opinion that kindness, or at least the illusion of it, went father than intimidation, despite what his elder Dogs might have thought otherwise. "Well, you tell Mr. Hershel that we're much obliged, and we just might take him up on that offer once we've conferred for the evening. Perhaps we'll have a word with Mr. Hershel as well, at his earliest convenience."

He nodded idly as he listened to Sonia question the clerk, before adding in. "We'll be needing to take a look at those rooms ourselves. Has anyone else stayed in them since their departure? And if you would kindly show us to their rooms, now." He said, gesturing for the clerk to lead the way, with a pointed stare to suggest he shouldn't delay, even as he smiled calmly, soon flicking his fingers at the clerk to indicate he should get a move on. "The Lord's justice must move swiftly, after all."

Anna wrinkled her nose faintly as she listened to the preacher, listening to him calmly. It was unsurprising, of course, that her fellow Dogs would seek confession even from preacher of a town they were simply passing through. A Dog certainly carried more and more burdens, the longer they served. And they would naturally look to a preacher to ease them, when time permitted such a luxury. But there was little reason to think a regular confession would have any relevance to their disappearance, even without the sacred right of secrecy to it.

"How did they seem to you, Father? Outside of the confession. Were they troubled?" Anna said, tilting her head as she eyed the man intently. "Did they explain their interest in the fire?"

Anna paused briefly with a glance to Margaret. "The sheriff told us of the fire as well. It is a troubling tale, but we've our own mission assigned to us already. As did our missing comrades here when they were here. And two days seems long for them to linger, no?"

"I suppose so. I hadn't thought about their length of stay too much. And as for how they were...well, they seemed in relatively good spirits, as much as a Watchdog can be. Although, Dog Meyer seemed especially concerned about the fires. He was truly the one most curious about the incident, if memory serves. And...I do not recall Meyer explaining his interest overmuch. The most I can recall...is him perhaps saying it reminded him of something." Father Mycroft replied.

Margaret frowned, rubbing her chin as she thought that answer over. It was a vague if interesting answer. Assuming the Father was telling the truth, or remembered correctly. Just what did that mean, then? What had interested Meyer so much in the fire? What had it reminded him of?

"When was the last time you saw them, Father? Can you recall?" she finally asked. Establishing a timeline, if nothing else, would be good. If they searched long enough, they might be able to figure out who had seen the missing Dogs last.

"It was the morning of their third day in town. They came to morning prayer, and left afterward. That was the last that I saw of them. I had just assumed that they were going on their way, after staying two full nights in town." he dutifully replied.

So, they had shown up for morning prayer then. Where had they gone from there? To get their horses, perhaps? Assuming they had been intending to leave that day. Considering that they had stayed two nights here at all, instead of just leaving after one day here, it was hard to be certain. Now that Anna had mentioned it, staying here that long did seem a bit...odd. And as concerning as the matter of the fire was, especially if it was intentionally set, they had had their own mission to contend with. What had led them astray?

"Much obliged." Charles murmured to the clerk with a faint grin as he followed him alongside Sonia to the elevator, friendly demeanor masking a careful stare at the clerk's own expression. He couldn't help but let out another low whistle at the elevator in motion, surely just as impressive a sight as the luxurious lobby.

"We'll be the judges indeed. That is the purpose the Lord entrusted to us, after all." He repeated with a nod to the clerk, waiting for him to depart before he looked to Sonia. "Best have two sets of eyes on each room, eh?"

He pulled the door open for Sonia, waving his other arm out to let her in first before going in after her. The hotel's luxury reminded him of Richmond, though he certainly wouldn't admit it on a whim, certainly not to a grizzled old Dog like Sonia who he certainly didn't suspect of having the same privileged youth he'd had. A part of him missed such mundane comforts, though he was loath to admit that as well, if only for the sake of appearances.

Charles stepped first into the center of the room, looking about as he mused idly. "Now, where d'you reckon a Dog would hide something if there was something to be hidden?"

Sonia stepped into Eliza Ford's room, idly looking around as Charles stepped in after her. It was a first-class hotel room, she had to admit. A large, comfortable bed took up much of the right wall, while a dressing cabinet took up space on the left. There was even a secondary room that, when opened up, revealed a water closet, or toilet, or whatever one wanted to call indoor plumbing. It was an invention that was becoming more and more popular in the US, although they weren't as common in still developing areas, like parts of the Deseret.

Still, beyond that, there wasn't much to see. Sonia stepped back into the room with Charles, idly looking about as she considered his question. The flooring was carpeted, so it wasn't like their was a loose floorboard they could pry open to find any hidden caches. Where else, though, might a Dog hide something? There wasn't anyplace to really do such in the water closet. And upon opening the dresser, she'd find it empty.

Perhaps...

On a hunch, Sonia approached the bed and moved her hand along the mattress, until she slipped a hand underneath to paw at the bed frame. She spent a minute feeling around, until her hand grasped something. Almost immediately, she pulled it out, revealing a hard-worn, leather-bound book.

She flipped through it, briefly scanning the written pages within. "Seems like Dog Ford kept a journal on her. You'd think that if she'd really left town, she'd have taken this with her."

Anna forced an annoyed breath to exhale out slowly, carefully masking her impatience with a calm stare to the floor for a long moment. The doubts around the fire may have been enough to draw a Dog's attention if they were simply passing through the city, dispensing justice as the Lord guided them in subtler ways. But Meyer had not been wandering and seeking such justice, he had direct orders otherwise. To go against that implied a darker discovery.

"Father, perhaps you could point us towards the homes of the families who were unfortunate enough to lose someone in the fire?" She asked, glancing briefly to Margaret. "With all the talk of the tragedy of late, I think the two of us might pay our respects to those families. And we do not want to keep you from your own duties for long, of course."

"The most recent fire you mean? Well, not too many people died, thank the Lord. A block of people lost their homes, and that is unfortunate, but most managed to escape without serious injury. Granted...a few suffered serious burns, and even now we have a poor soul in the hospital that's still in recovery. As for those who died...from my understanding, only the Watson family perished that night. Not a soul survived in their household. Although, the Watsons do have family here in Abernathy, Joseph Watson and his young wife, Agatha. They lived on the opposite side of town to Miles Watson and his family. If you wish to talk to them, or the poor man still in the hospital, i would be happy to tell you where to go. And, of course, I can give you the addresses of those who lost their homes," Father Mycroft dutifully replied.

Margaret listened to his words absently, brow furrowing somewhat when he mentioned someone still in the hospital. "There is still someone in the hospital? It's been several weeks since the fire, hasn't it Father? Surely they would have healed or died from their injuries by now? Were they so extensively burned, to require such a lengthy stay?"

"Yes...something along those lines, I believe. I am no doctor, so I do not pretend to know just how badly young Richard Horpe was hurt. He's a boy of fifteen...and from what I understand, he tried to go into the Watson house during the inferno to save them. Richard lived on that block, and from what I understand...fancied the young Miss Watson. However, he was unsuccessful in his attempt...and for his bravery, became severely burned as a result," Father Mycroft replied. "If you wish to know more about him, I am sure his family or doctor could tell you...or, even the boy himself. I've taken to visiting him twice a week for prayer. The boy is taking opium to manage his pain, but seems lucid and responsive most times I've visited him."

Interesting. Well, if the fire had started at the Watson residence as the Sheriff suggested, then it would make sense that this Richard had suffered such severe burns. It made her wonder what he had seen the night of the fire, though. It also made her wonder if either of the Dogs had gone to see Richard. Of the survivors, Richard's situation differed: he had been to the epicenter of the fire, and survived to tell the tale. If he had any memories of that night in the Watson home, it could shed light on some very interesting details.

Then again, it was likely the Sheriff had already interrogated the boy, and the other survivors. They could just always return to her, and see what her initial investigation and interviews had turned up, if they were so inclined.

Regardless, Father Mycroft happily gave out the locations of all the survivors of the fire and their relatives, including the hospital where Richard Horpe was at, and where Joseph Watson lived. If they truly wished to investigate that path further, then they seemed to have some good leads.

Charles let out an appreciate whistle at the room's opulence. He was certainly being reminded of the luxury he'd left behind in Richmond, with a twinge of longing for such creature comforts even if he knew well enough that he didn't truly need such things. A night or two enjoying the hotel owner's hospitality would be a harmless indulgence of such feelings, of course.

He slowly stepped further inside behind Sonia, carefully looking around the room. The carpet covered his first thought, when he'd hidden letters and tobacco in his own childhood room years and years ago, and so he continued onwards, peering underneath the dresser and then looking around the porcelain and plumbing of the water closet.

As he stepped back into the room, he blinked with surprise as Sonia produced the book from underneath the mattress, silently thanking the Lord for their good fortune at having suspicions proven right. "If'n they'd made it out of the town, we very well might not've been sight after 'em." He said as he stepped up to her, peering over her shoulder to the book's pages. "Any word on what was in the poor woman's thoughts?"

Anna's gaze turned sharply back to Mycroft spoke of the boy that had been perhaps foolish enough to run into the center of the fire, but had survived nonetheless. Surely there was no clearer sign of the hand of the Lord than that. Of course, the sheriff surely would have questioned the boy with her own suspicions, and presumably shared them with the pack earlier. But Anna had certainly seen in the past that a Dog's presence could elicit a truth where others, even lawmen, could not. She committed the addresses to memory before nodding to Margaret with a subtle gesture to the door. For the moment, there was nothing else to as of the preacher.

She headed outwards, pausing at the doorway to incline her head respectfully to Mycroft. "Thank you, Father, you have been of great help. We will be sure to return for prayer when we are able to."

Once she and Margaret were outside and in relatively privacy, she walked down the street in the direction of the hospital, leaning in close as she spoke quietly to Margaret. "We can start with the boy and see if our missing comrades already spoke to him. If not him, then the other families. If the two of them were investigating the fires, there's only so many apparent people to speak with. We should find that trail swiftly."

"Indeed. Lord willing, we shall find the right path to the truth soon enough." Margaret agreed, nodding her head to Anna.

Some time later, they arrived at the hospital where the boy was waylaid. A flash of their badges got the staff to guide them to his room. By the time they were led there, a doctor was already waiting for them.

"Good afternoon, ladies. I'm Doctor Herbert Walker. It is good to meet you," Doctor Walker proclaimed, greeting them politely. He looked a little nervous, but perhaps that was to be expected, when Dogs of the Lord unexpectedly visited your establishment. "I'm not sure what you need to talk to poor Richard for, but I am happy to be of assistance to you. However, I must warn you...the poor boy is still quite hurt. Though the fire was weeks ago, the burns he suffered still ail his body. I've needed to give him liberal doses of opium to help him manage the pain and calm down. I'm afraid I don't know how lucid he may be to answer any intense questioning."

Margaret couldn't help but grimace at that. The boy was addled with opium? They would be lucky indeed to get much out of him in that case. Still, it was curious that he was in such pain, all this time later, to still need doses of opium. Had he been that severely injured in the fire?

"Reckon she was right to be paranoid, eh?" Charles started to grin before he composed herself, lowering his head briefly in respect. "Lord bless her poor soul. But Lord willing, she might've left that for someone else to find. Like us, yeah? Dog code, after all. Awfully helpful, that." He was certainly thankful Sonia was familiar with it, ciphers being the farthest from his intellectual pursuits.

"Might be wise to take a hint from her, stick together." He said with a final look over the hotel room before heading for the door. "Plenty of time tonight to decode that, I reckon. Best we keep both sets of eyes on the next room, given that." He pointed to the book in Sonia's hands. "Maybe if we're really lucky, our other comrade left us a clue as well." He stepped out into the hall and reached for the door of the next room, other hand resting on his pistol, just in case. Eliza Ford had been right to be paranoid, after all.

Sonia nodded, following Charles out of the room. The door opened up for them easily, however, they ended up walking in on someone. Sonia's hand instinctively reached for her gun, but she calmed down once she realized it was just someone from house keeping. It was an older woman, clearly dressed as one of the staff, who looked rather startled as they barged in on her.

"Oh, terribly sorry! I was just doing a bit of tidying up, per the manager's orders. I didn't realize someone had rented the room out already," she declared, giving them a brief nod.

It made enough sense, she supposed, and Sonia was ready enough to accept that explanation. Before she dismissed the woman, or sought to question her, though...something came to her mind. She frowned, taking another look at the woman. Hadn't the hotel clerk said that the rooms had been sealed off to staff once word had been sent of their impending arrival?

"We would like to speak with the boy." Anna said, then adding more quickly. "Rest assured we will not tax him unduly" She eyed the doctor intently, trying to gauge if his nervousness was reasonable deference to her and Margaret, or trying to conceal something more sinister. Unfortunately, medicine was far from her expertise, to tell how much pain one would be in to need such strong medicines weeks after the injury. Her father certainly still carried a limp from his decades-old injury, and the boy seemed to have been through far worse. But nonetheless, it was another complication upon complications, and that suspicion gnawed at Anna.

She glanced briefly to Margaret, seeing the same concerns in her eyes, before returning her attention to the doctor. "The preacher told us of the boy's bravery. We would like to thank him for it and pay our respects. I imagine he's not met a Watchdog of the Lord before, yes?" She asked with a tilt of her head. If the missing Dogs had been here as well... She eyed the doctor all the more intently, watching every hint of his reaction to the leading question.

“Actually, this wouldn’t be the first time. Those two Dogs that went missing came by to pay their respects. I wasn’t on duty at the time, but my nurses told me of their visit,” Doctor Walker proclaimed, shrugging slightly. “I couldn’t tell you what they said or asked of him, but it was a short visit by all indications.”

Well now, that was interesting. So Meyer and Ford had been by to see the boy. It was a good clue, though Margaret herself wasn’t entirely sure what else they might be able to get from here. After all, Richard’s mental state would no doubt by hampered by the opium. Still, it was worth a try.

She nodded at the Doctor a moment later, and after exchanging a look with Anna, went to open the door. It creaked open, revealing a somewhat frail looking figure covered up with blankets, on a bed. What they could see of his body largely seemed to be covered up with bandages: and what was visible had noticeable burn marks. Richard seemed to be awake though, and after a moment he turned his head to look at them, his eyes carrying a rather vacant and glassy stare.