Robert Li swung his gaze from Kit back to Skeeter. “Okay,” he grinned suddenly, “I’m convinced! Damned smart move is right, hiring this genius. Question is, what do we do now?”
Kit eyed Skeeter narrowly. “How well do you ride a horse?”
Skeeter Jackson’s sudden, lethal grin blazed like a noonday sun. “If it’s got hooves, I can ride it.”
“In that case, we visit Time Tours, Incorporated. Because your new boss just came out of retirement. It’s been a while since I visited Denver.”
Robert Li’s mouth dropped open. Then the antiquarian started laughing. “Oh, my God! Wait until word gets out! Goldie Morran, for one, may strangle from simple shock. Kit Carson and Skeeter Jackson, partners in crime? I just wish I could get away from the studio long enough to go with you!”
Kit clouted him across one shoulder. “The price of being the only I.F.A.R.T.S. agent on station. But there is something you could do . . .”
“Why do I have the feeling I ought to be counting my fingernails and locking my safe?”
Kit grinned. “You wound me. Head over to Connie’s, if you don’t mind? We’ve only got six days before the Wild West Gate re-opens, which means we should’ve started outfitting last week, not to mention all the training Skeeter needs before we step through. I’d head straight to Connie’s, but Skeeter and I have to break the news to Ronisha. And the senator.”
Skeeter visibly lost color.
“Well, since you put it that way,” Robert said hastily, “I’d rather ask Connie for favors than go near Caddrick, any day of the week.”