Dulcie's conversation with Treadwell hadn't gone the way that she had hoped, but there were some benefits to running an inn. It meant that people talked. Sometimes they talked to you and sometimes they just talked around you, but either way they talked. She had heard rumors about a man who was fairly new to town and looked into things that the constables wouldn't. Missing persons, runaway dogs, stolen items. They sounded simple, but if he could track down a missing person maybe he could track down a murderer.
She looked up at the sign above the door curiously before knocking firmly upon the office/residence of Seasons. No first name, or maybe no last name. All she got was Seasons when she asked around. She waited patiently outside, keeping an eye out along the street. It would be better if she was noticed by less people. Who knew if the killer was watching.