An Agent for Rosalie
Page 9
“Not us. You,” the sheriff huffed, pointing between them. “My deputy and I are barely able to stay above the crime in this town, and we don’t have time to chase down any more leads. You are the famous Pinks, after all.”
Ignoring Sheriff Walton’s sarcastic tone, Paden went to say, “Thank you for your vote of confidence…”
The sheriff cut him off. “You have twenty-four hours to find Garrett or we will arrest Holmes.”
“Twenty-four hours?” he repeated back. “Garrett has been on the run for four years, and you expect us to find him in one day?”
“You are the Pinks. Find a way,” Deputy Charlie stated in a dry tone.
Rosalie shot up from her chair. “Does the time start now, or can we start the clock tomorrow?”
“By all means, we will start the clock tomorrow morning so you can rest from your earlier ordeal,” Sheriff Walton drawled.
Paden rose and followed Rosalie out the door. As they walked back to the hotel, he gave her a side glance and asked, “Do you have any intention of resting?”
“None,” came her quick reply.
“Good,” he said, “because we need to come up with an ingenious plan. And I am fresh out of them.”
She let out a light laugh. “Admitting that is the first step to receiving help.”
Pressing his lips together, Paden knew they were going to need all the help they could get to go after Bill Garrett.
Chapter 10
“What if we abducted Holmes and forced him to talk?” Paden suggested as they sat at a table in Sally’s Restaurant.
Rosalie smiled at him over the rim of her glass. “That is a brilliant idea, husband.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brooks,” he said, smirking. “In addition, I propose we break into the bank and look for any evidence that may explain Holmes’ involvement.”
“Another brilliant idea,” she teased. “I thought you said you were fresh out of them.”
A blonde-haired girl dressed in a faded floral gown, with a white apron tied around her waist, approached their table with a bright smile on her face.
“Afternoon, folks. My name is Emeline Holmes, and I will be taking your order today,” she announced in a cheery voice.
Rosalie returned the waitress’s smile. “Are you by any chance related to Mr. Holmes, the assistant at the bank?”
“I am. He is my older brother,” she answered proudly.
“We spoke to Mr. Holmes when we opened up an account at the bank earlier,” Paden stated. “He seems like a sharp fellow.”
Emeline nodded. “Bobby is the hardest worker I know. He practically raised me when our parents died from smallpox five years ago. He has been scrimping and saving these past few years so we can eventually move into a house of our own.”
“He sounds like a good brother,” Rosalie commented.
“Oh, he is,” Emeline gushed. “I’m working here to do my part. If all goes well, we should be able to move out of the boarding house in a few months.”
Rosalie exchanged a knowing look at Paden. Bobby’s actions did not sound like someone who was involved in crime, but perhaps he was hiding his true nature from his sister?
Emeline pulled a paper and pencil out from a pocket in her apron. “On the menu today is venison stew, mutton chops, freshwater fish, and dried salmon.” She smiled. “Or, if you prefer, we could make you a turkey sandwich on our freshly baked bread.”
Paden lifted his brow expectantly at her. “What sounds good to you, darling?”
“Everything,” Rosalie replied. Directing her next comment at Emeline, she said, “I’ll take the venison stew.”
“I'll have the same,” Paden ordered.
Emeline placed the paper back into her pocket. “That sounds easy enough…” Her words trailed off as the door to the restaurant opened, and James Murray walked in. Rosalie couldn’t help but notice that Emeline’s eyes tracked his every movement as he headed toward a table near the corner of the room.
“How long have you been interested in Mr. Murray?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Emeline’s eyes snapped back to hers. “What makes you think I am interested in him?” she questioned, her voice straining at the end.
“Call it a hunch,” she replied.
“It doesn’t matter,” Emeline sighed, glancing over her shoulder at James. “Every day he comes in for an early supper, and he hardly speaks to me. I have attempted to engage him in conversation, but he has made it clear that he has no intention of getting to know me.”
Rosalie stifled her smile since she knew that James had taken a fancy toward Emeline. “Perhaps Mr. Murray is shy?”
Emeline shook her head. “He runs the staging station, and I’ve heard him converse with people before. He is friendly and personable with them, but he is the opposite with me.”
“Would you like to make a wager, Miss Holmes?” Paden asked.
“I don’t gamble,” she replied.
Paden gave her a wry smile. “That’s good. But I am thinking of a different kind of wager.”
“Which is?”
Leaning forward in his seat, he said, “I bet I can get Mr. Murray to ask you to join him for dessert in twenty words or less.”
With a quick glance over her shoulder at James, Emeline asked, “How?”
He shrugged. “I am good at reading people.”
“What would the wager be?” she inquired cautiously.
Paden rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “After you get hitched to Mr. Murray, you have to name your first-born son after me.”
Emeline giggled. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?”
“Are you in?” he asked.
“I suppose so,” she answered in a tone that clearly doubted Paden’s abilities.
“Murray!” Paden shouted, waving him over.
James eyed him suspiciously as he rose from his chair and walked over. “What can I do for you, Mr. Brooks?”
“Miss Holmes just informed me that she is looking for someone to walk her home after her shift,” Paden shared.
James’s eyes shot over to Emeline. “Is that true, Miss Holmes?”
“Um… I…” Emeline stammered as a blush came to her cheeks.
“I’ll do it,” James blurted out. “I mean, I would be honored to walk you home.”
Emeline stared up at him in disbelief. “You would?”
Swiping his hat off his head, James started fingering it nervously. “If you aren’t previously engaged,” he hesitated, “perhaps you could join me for a piece of pie before I walk you to the boarding house.”
“You want to have dessert with me?” she asked in a skeptical voice.
“Yes.” James swallowed slowly.
A smile came to Emeline’s face. “I would like that very much.”
James’ shoulders visibly relaxed. “Good. I would like that too.” He smiled back at her. “What time should I come by?”
“My shift ends at eight,” she replied. “You could come around then.”
With a boyish grin on his face, James placed his hat on his head and started backing up. “Until then, Miss Holmes.”
“Until then,” Emeline repeated, her eyes never straying from him.
They all watched James walk out the door of the restaurant and heard him let out a loud whoop.
“I wonder how long it will take James to realize he never had dinner,” Rosalie remarked.
Paden turned his attention back toward Emeline. “My name is Paden Brooks. Either name is appropriate for a boy.”
“You two should be detectives,” she joked.
Paden hooked his arm to the back of his chair. “Why do you say that?”
“I have been pining after Mr. Murray for over a year, and I had given up hope that he would ever ask me out,” Emeline responded. “And with just eighteen words from you, Mr. Murray asked me to have dessert with him before walking me home.
“My husband is a romantic at heart,” Rosalie teased with a smile on her face.
“I don’t know. Paden Murray does have a nice ring to it,” Paden said, smirking. “Rather than buy us dinner, how about you just throw in a piece of pie for dessert.”
“Deal,” Emeline proclaimed as she turned back toward the kitchen.
Rosalie laughed. “Look at you playing matchmaker.”
“Now that I am a happily married man, I want everyone to experience the same bliss I enjoy,” Paden remarked with a twinkle in his eye.
Lowering her voice, she said, “You do remember this is a ruse, right?”
Paden winked as he reached for his glass of water.
After this assignment was complete, they were still going to get an annulment. Weren’t they? Rosalie had enjoyed spending time with Paden and thoroughly enjoyed kissing him. But that is all it could be. That was all she was willing to give… at least for now.
Sitting at Tuttle’s desk in the bank, Paden reviewed the ledgers in front of him. “I don’t know how this bank is still in business,” he declared.
Rosalie squinted as she brought the paper closer to the lit candle on the desk. “Shelbrook’s First National Bank was formed when a group of ranchers pooled their resources and opened the bank. The interest loans are enormously high, and there is not a steady flow of cash coming into the bank.” She picked up another paper. “The only time a huge influx of money comes in is after the cattle drives, but that’s only once a year.”
“This bank does not print its own currency but relies on a few well-timed gold deposits every few months from Denver Trust Bank,” Paden informed her. “They repay the loan after the cattle drives.”
Rosalie shuffled through the papers before she found what she was looking for. “Without the gold shipments, this bank has no immediate cash.”
Frowning, Paden asked, “Am I reading this right?” He extended the ledger toward Rosalie. “It appears that Holmes isn’t collecting a salary.”
Her eyes roamed the ledger before they came up to meet his gaze. “According to this document, the bank owes Holmes almost one-hundred and fifty dollars of back pay.” She handed him the ledger back. “Why would he work for no immediate pay?”
“Maybe he intends to keep the bank open as long as possible so more gold shipments can be sent,” Paden reasoned.
“That’s possible, but perhaps they’re using his salary to keep the bank open. If that’s the case, then Holmes wouldn’t be reimbursed until after the next gold shipment came into the bank,” she replied. “This proves my theory. Holmes is being coerced somehow.”
“I’m not buying it. If Holmes was being blackmailed, then why wouldn’t he go to the sheriff?”
Drumming her fingers along the desk, Rosalie looked thoughtful. “Garrett is a dangerous man. Holmes probably felt he had no option but to do what he was told.”
“What kind of hold would Garrett have over him?”
Their eyes went wide as they said in unison, “Emeline.”
Jumping up, they quickly organized the ledgers and papers and returned them to their original locations. Paden opened the back door, allowing Rosalie to pass through, before he closed and dead-bolted the door. Now that the bank was secured, he quickly escaped through the side window.
Paden grabbed Rosalie’s hand, and they raced out of the alley, grateful that his wife had worn trousers rather than being slowed down by a billowing skirt. If they were lucky, James and Emeline would still be eating dessert. They slowed for only a moment as they ran by the darkened restaurant. Without saying a word, they changed their direction for the boarding house, hoping that Emeline had already arrived safely.
Passing by the alley in between the boarding house and the bath house, they saw a figure slumped against the wall. They withdrew their pistols and cautiously approached the man.
The man let out a loud groan as he attempted to stand up and reach for his left side. The moonlight hit his face, revealing his identity. James Murray.
Tucking his gun into his belt, Paden rushed toward James and helped him stand. “What happened?” he asked urgently.
“Two men took Emeline.” James winced, and his breathing became labored. “I tried to fight them off, but I… couldn’t…” His words trailed off. “You have to go… after them.”
Rosalie came around to support James from the other side and together they walked him to the main door of the boarding house. Paden pounded on the door.
A middle-aged woman opened it. Her eyes grew wide as she exclaimed, “Good heavens, James! What happened?”
“Nothin’,” he breathed out. “We need to go after Emeline.” His words were so breathless that she barely heard him.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Paden declared as James continued to lean heavily on him. He directed his next comments at the proprietress. “Can you send for a doctor? I think his ribs are broken, and there is a nasty gash on his cheek that needs tending.”
Once James was situated on the sofa, Paden looked up at the flight of stairs. “Is Mr. Holmes in his room?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to notify him that you are here?” the woman asked as she wrapped a blanket over James.
“No. We need to speak to him privately,” Paden informed her.
The proprietress shook her head. “I am sorry, but guests aren’t allowed up in the boarders’ rooms. It is a rule.” A worried look came to her face. “Did something happen to Emeline?”
“That’s what we intend to find out.” Glancing around the room, he realized that Rosalie had disappeared, and he knew exactly where she was. “It appears that my wife has already taken it upon herself to go speak to Mr. Holmes.”
She frowned. “Oh, dear. Women are not allowed on the second floor. It’s not safe.”
Trying not to laugh, Paden kept his face expressionless. He feared more for any man foolish enough to get in Rosalie’s way. “If I may be so bold, where does Miss Holmes board then?”
“We share the attic,” she revealed. “There is plenty of room for both of us, and it provides us with privacy.”
Walking closer to the stairs, he asked, “May I go retrieve my wife?”
The woman waved him on as James hissed in pain. “Go. I need to fetch a doctor for Mr. Murray, but don’t make me regret my decision, Mr.…”
“Brooks,” he answered.
Paden watched the realization dawn on her face. “You and your wife were the couple that saved the stagecoach.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then go. Mr. Holmes is in Room 202.”
Needing no further encouragement, he raced up the stairs, retrieved his pistol, and approached the door of Room 202. He knocked and called in a hushed voice, “Rosie?”
The door was partially open, and as he peered inside, he saw Holmes was already tied to an armchair.
“How did you accomplish that feat?” Paden asked, advancing fully into the room and tucking his pistol into his belt.
“I asked him nicely to sit down, and he complied.” Rosalie smirked.
“You threatened to kill me if I didn’t cooperate,” Mr. Holmes huffed. “I demand to know why you are holding me prisoner.”
Walking closer to him, Rosalie took the barrel of her gun and ran it along the length of his jaw. “You are not really in a position to be making threats, are you?”
Paden went and sat on the bed that was pressed up against the wall. “How long have you been working for Bill Garrett?”
Mr. Holmes’ pale, fear-filled eyes flickered between them. “I don’t… uh… know what you are talking about,” he stammered.
Turning his gaze toward Rosalie, Paden let out an exasperated sigh. “It appears that we got it wrong. How silly of us. Mr. Holmes must not have been the man you saw leaving a note in the alleyway. The note which informed Garrett of the upcoming gold delivery.” He rose suddenly. “Shall we?” he asked, pointing toward the door.
Rosalie nodded her under
standing. “We could leave,” she started, “or we could inform Mr. Holmes that his sister was abducted on the way home from work tonight.”
“What?” Mr. Holmes shouted, turning to look at her. “Where is Emeline?”
She pressed her lips together. “That’s what we would like to know. We don’t have time for games, Mr. Holmes. If you are going to lie to us, then we aren’t going to help you. We’ll just let you hang for your crimes.”
“Who are you two?” Mr. Holmes asked, his eyes narrowing.
Sitting back down on the bed, Paden answered, “We are Pinkerton agents, and we were hired by Barlow Dispatch & Grizzly’s Peak Express to find the informant who has been telling Bill Garrett about the gold in the mail shipments.”
Mr. Holmes’ shoulders slumped. “I should have suspected that after what happened on the stagecoach. I have never met a Pinkerton agent in person, but I have heard about you guys…” he cleared his throat, “and ladies.”
“Garrett has Emeline, and he is going to keep her alive only until she is no longer of worth to him,” Rosalie explained. “We need you to tell us everything, or we won’t be able to help you.”
A determined look came to Mr. Holmes’ eyes as he straightened in his chair. “About three months ago, a man threatened to kill me if I didn’t reveal the scheduled gold shipments. But I refused,” he stated, adamantly. “A week later, I started receiving letters under my door that detailed Emeline’s schedule. They were signed in blood.”
Rosalie sat back onto the top of his desk. “Why didn’t you go to Sheriff Walton?”
“I wanted to,” Mr. Holmes confessed. “One morning I collected the notes and started walking toward the main part of town. My sister was already working the morning shift at the restaurant so I had incorrectly assumed she would be safe. I had just stepped into the sheriff’s office when someone shot out the windows of Sally’s.”
“Was Emeline or anyone else harmed?” Paden asked.
He shook his head. “No. But it made me realize that I was always being watched.”
“Regardless, your actions caused the death of a whole stagecoach company,” Rosalie shared.