by P. Creeden
An Agent for Hazel
P. Creeden
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Love Western Romance?
A Marshal for Christmas
An Agent for Josie
An Agent for Opal
A Bride for James
A Bride for Henry
An Agent for Hazel © 2020 P. Creeden
Cover by Virginia McKevitt
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
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Chapter 1
Sam Shelby’s lungs burned as he ran down the streets of San Francisco. He’d been following a collector of illegal gambling debts, but he’d been spotted. He shouldn’t have been following so closely. He’d made himself much too obvious. And now he had to use his legs to sprint after the malefactor as he ran through the crowded street. At least he was heading toward the wharf. If the criminal didn’t like swimming, he was going to have to stop short at the end of a pier. When he turned a corner, Sam had a chance to peer back and see if his partner, Ray Cobb, was right behind him, but he couldn’t see the larger, older man anywhere. It had really been Ray’s fault that Sam had been made by the mark they’d been following, but Sam didn’t have time to dwell on that now.
Besides, any time that a person didn’t take responsibility for their own fault in a mistake, the person would fail to learn a valuable lesson in the process. How could a person change their behavior for the better and get a different outcome next time? Next time, Sam needed to keep better distance and not let anyone push him to stay closer to the target. That was Sam’s error. And it was one he was paying for now as his feet pounded against the pavement in the city and his breath came in short gasps as his heart pounded so hard that it beat against his chest breastbone. His thighs ached. But Sam was a strong man and was used to running from place to place since he was a child. The tall, lanky man he was chasing was already slowing down. By the time they started to head up the next hill, the miscreant had slowed to a walk and turned around, hands up in surrender.
After catching up with him, Sam stopped and glared at the man while he caught his breath. Then he peered back behind him to see if Ray might have been catching up, but the other sheriff’s deputy had lagged behind. With a frown, he turned back to the criminal. “On your knees,” he ordered as his breath caught up with him. “Keep your hands up and in front of you.”
The young man’s brow furrowed but he did as he was told, his breaths coming in huge gasps. Sam had been right. The lanky man was in worse shape than Sam was and Sam really didn’t have as much trouble as he could have had running the younger man down. The boy wasn’t much more than seventeen or so but seemed to have spent all of his days lazing around instead of playing sports the way Sam had when he was that age. Sam stepped forward and put his iron cuffs on the boy’s wrists in front of him.
“All right. All right. Is that really necessary?” the boy asked in a sharp, unrepentant tone. It made Sam want to twist his arm, but he bit down on his molars and refrained.
Instead, Sam pulled him up by the cuffs which wrenched the boy’s shoulders a bit until he stood with the pressure.
“Ow! Ow! That’s enough. Stop!”
Sam seethed through his teeth as he leaned in, “I quite remember telling you that was enough and to stop. How did you respond?”
The boy’s lips thinned as they pulled closed in silent answer.
Sam nodded. “Yeah. That’s about right.”
“Deputy Shelby!” Ray called from a wee bit farther down the hill, his chest heaving with giant breaths.
After stepping behind the captured suspect, Sam pushed him ahead of him down the hill. “Let’s go. Off to the station with you.”
But then the young man in the cuffs began running full speed. Sam gave chase. Below, Ray’s eyes went wide as he set his hand on the handle of his pistol. But he didn’t have time to react. The boy barreled into the heavyset deputy and wrestled him to the mud. The two of them were instantly covered in the mess. Sam stopped at them, trying to grab hold of the young man by the collar. The minute he finally got his fingers hooked in the rough fabric, a loud bang filled the air. A gun report.
Both the men who’d been wrestling a moment before went still. Sam reached down and grabbed the boy by the arm as well and wrenched him to his feet by the collar and upper arm.
The boy whined, “I didn’t mean to do it. He’s the one who drew on me. I was just trying to get away.”
In the boy’s limp hands, the pistol nearly slipped from his grip. Sam jumped forward and ripped it from his fingers, then turned back toward his partner. “Ray? You all right, Ray?”
Then he noticed the pool of blood that was slowly forming under his partner’s heavy bulk. And the man’s eyes stared up to the sky in an unblinking fashion. And his body remained flaccid and motionless. Sam’s heart broke in his chest as a sob lodged itself firmly in his throat. The copper smell of blood reached his nostrils and made him gag. He covered his mouth with the back of the hand that still held Ray’s pistol. Tears stung Sam’s eyes.
“I wasn’t trying to kill him. I was only trying to get away. I can’t afford to be arrested. I already been taken in twice and they’ll put me away this time for at least a year,” the boy blubbered. His face and nose already wet with tears and snot.
Sam’s hand fisted and he threw a punch before he could even stop himself. It connected with the boy’s nose in a resounding crack. Blood mixed with the other bodily fluids that intermingled on the boy’s face as he fell to his hands and knees. And then the boy began to wail.
Once he swallowed the lump in his throat, Sam wrenched the boy by his collar back to his feet. “You’ll do a lot more than a year for this.”
* * *
Hazel Lockwood pricked her finger with a needle. “Ouch,” she said with a hiss as she pulled the needle away and squeezed the tip of her index finger. A droplet of blood formed that she quickly wiped away with her handkerchief. She set down the hat she’d been sewing and looked out the window. The gray sky outside promised rain, but it had looked that way all morning without letting a drop fall from the sky. Without the sun, it was hard to tell what time it was and each hour that passed seemed to do so more slowly simply because of the dreariness of the day.
Her finger made its way to her lips where she sucked upon it, and a trace of the copper taste of blood struck her tongue. The Lockwood household was quiet. Too quiet. As the youngest, and because she and her sisters were so close in age, Hazel had never been without one or both of them. That was, until the past few month
s. First, eight months ago, Savannah left to seek adventure and a possible husband in Denver, Colorado—and then Ruby followed. A sigh escaped Hazel’s lips as she heard a commotion downstairs.
“Hazel!” Father was home.
Hazel set aside her sewing and then peered at the still sore fingertip to make sure the blood had stopped. Then she stood and started for the door to her bedroom. Just as she reached the banister, another shout came up.
“Hurry, Hazel! I have need of you.”
Immediately a frown tugged at her lips. She called down, “Coming, Father!”
And a moment later, she met him in the parlor, seeing his eyes frantic, but a smile on his face. “There you are! You must hurry.” He rushed toward her and pressed a handful of bills into her palm. “Run to the butcher and get a beef rump roast. We have company coming. I just received a telegraph that your sister is on the way and she is bringing with her a guest. A young man. From Colorado. With her.”
Hazel blinked at the way he still held her hands. She’d never seen her father this excited about anything. But excitement sparked in her heart as well. “Calm down, Father. Ruby? Is she bringing home a husband, like Savannah did?”
A bit of anger flashed in Father’s eyes as he shook his head. “She didn’t say. I should hope not, as Ruby is much less prone to spontaneity than your eldest sister. Now, hurry, Hazel. We don’t have much time. The train is to arrive at two, and I’m sure you want to greet her with me and your mother.” His eyes darted about. “Where is your mother?”
Hazel glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was a quarter past noon. “She’s at her bridge game. Usually she returns by twelve-thirty.”
Her father wrung his hands. “Good. Good. Hurry to the butcher’s, Hazel. And if you see your mother along the way, tell her she needs to rush back. I have news. Do that?”
As she stepped away, Hazel could barely take her eyes of the frantic man that was normally her calm father. She took hold of a hat from the rack and pinned it to her hair just before rushing out the door. Her father’s excitement made her want to hurry even though she had plenty of time. Her step quickened. It was only a twenty minute walk to the butcher and a short jaunt to the train station. Even if she took her time, they’d make it there well before two o’clock. But still, she hastened.
Nothing unexpected happened while she was at the butcher, and by the time she returned home, she found both her father and her mother waiting anxiously for her. They put the beef rump roast in the larder and then made their way outside. The cab was late. Then they ran into an incident on Main Street on the way to the station. By the time they got there, it was two-thirty and the train had already pulled into the station ten minutes a head of schedule.
Father’s frantic mannerisms returned. “I knew it. I knew we should have come earlier.”
They searched the station but couldn’t spot Ruby anywhere. Mother frowned. “Well, perhaps we missed them on the street or maybe they stopped somewhere first. Your daughter knows the way home, Darling. I’m sure we will find her there if we return.”
“Pardon me,” a deep voice said from behind them, causing the whole family to turn. The voice belonged to a handsome young man with a cowboy’s hat in his hands. “Would you happen to be the Lockwood family?”
Father’s brow raised as he nodded his head and stood a little taller. “We are. I am Clarence Lockwood. And you are?”
The young man smiled and offered a hand. “I am John Mark Lee.”
Father took the man’s hand, but his brow furrowed in question. Hazel’s gaze darted between her father and mother, each of them waiting in anticipation for him to continue. Finally, Hazel said, “I’m Hazel. I’m not quite sure who you are yet.”
The young man blinked and shook his head. “Ruby didn’t tell you my name?”
Finally, Father cleared his throat. “You’re the gentleman that was arriving with my daughter, I presume?”
Hazel furrowed her brow and glanced around the station but couldn’t spot her sister. “Where is Ruby?” she asked.
Then the frantic look on John Mark’s face finally made sense as he said, “She’s missing. I can’t find her.”
Everyone stopped to stare at the man. Father blinked and asked, “What did you say?”
“Ruby is missing,” John Mark said as he straightened. “I left her here to await you while I ran an errand for Archie. When I got back, she was missing. I’ve searched the station and all the area surrounding. She’s not here. Something’s wrong.”
Chapter 2
Hazel’s heart dropped toward her stomach. “Ruby’s missing?”
John Mark looked distraught and wrung his hands. “I can’t find her. She was supposed to wait by the ticket window until I returned. I was only supposed to be gone a quarter hour, but the sheriff here kept me occupied too long with questions about the letter Mr. Gordon in the Denver office had sent him. I was gone thirty minutes. When I returned, she was no where to be found. I asked the man in the ticket window if he saw her, but he did not.”
Father frowned, his lips growing thin. “All right then. We need to split up. Everyone ask whoever you might find if they’ve seen Ruby. Most of the townsfolk know who she is by name. If you ask about her, they should know. Mother, you’re with me.”
John Mark nodded toward Hazel. “Would you mind staying with me, since we don’t know the town well?”
Hazel nodded. “Of course.”
And the two groups separated, going to different sides of the station and asking anyone they met if they’d seen Ruby. If they didn’t know her name, they gave her description. Finally, a porter boy nodded. “I saw her. She left with an gentleman in a brown suit with a blue tie. I remember because it was such an odd color combination.”
Hazel gasped. “Mr. Brown!”
John Mark’s eyes flashed. “Mr. Elliot Brown, Ruby’s first suitor?”
Nodding, Hazel covered her mouth with her hand. “How did he... Why did he... I don’t understand.”
Suddenly all business, John Mark put a hand on the small of Hazel’s back to lead her back toward her parents. First suitor? Did that mean that he had been her second? As Hazel let John Mark lead her, she realized suddenly that it was odd that he was here in Connecticut. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she peered up at the gentleman who stood so close to her. Was it possible? Was Ruby introducing this man to Father as her intended? Her cheeks heated and flushed at her own thoughts. And then she shook them out of her head. Ruby was missing. She didn’t need to be thinking about anything else at the moment.
Father spotted them approaching and frowned as he stepped toward them. “Any news?”
John Mark nodded. “A porter spotted her with a man wearing a brown suit and a blue tie.”
Father’s eyes went wide as he came to the same conclusion that Hazel had. “Mr. Brown?” He shook his head. “No. I refuse to believe it.”
Hazel swallowed hard, tears stinging the backs of her eyes. “It’s worse, Father.”
“What do you mean?”
“I heard the rumors but just dismissed them since Ruby was halfway across the country. I thought they were the rantings of a man angry and spurned,” her voice cracked as she said it.
Father’s hands came upon her shoulders and squeezed as he ducked his head down to look into Hazel’s eyes. “What is it? What are you talking about?”
Hazel swallowed against the knot that had lodged itself in her throat. “Mr. Brown has been telling some of the people in town that Ruby was going to marry him. That she was on a short trip and would be returning soon to become his bride. I laughed. I... can’t believe I laughed when the milliner’s daughter told me.”
The furrows between his brows deepened as Father straightened. “He’s gone mad.”
John Mark’s face reddened as his jaw set and his hands fisted. “If he’s harmed one hair of hers...”
Father lifted a brow at the declaration, but didn’t say a word about it. Instead, he pasted on a smile. “Well,
that’s enough excitement for the moment. Now that we know where Ruby is, let’s all return to the house. You are our guests, and Mrs. Lockwood needs to begin preparing the roast.”
Hazel blinked at her father’s reaction to the situation. The moment everyone started toward the house, she grabbed him by the arm. “Father, what is going on? Are you really just going to leave things as they are?”
Her father’s lips thinned. “Hot heads do not make good decisions. We need to allow cooler heads to prevail. I will send word to Mr. Brown immediately and then we’ll see about what’s happened. Fair enough?”
She didn’t like it. Not one bit. But what else could Hazel do but follow her father’s lead?
* * *
Sam Shelby blinked in awe at the sheriff. “What do you mean you need to release the boy? He shot Deputy Cobb. Killed him. In cold blood.”
The sheriff’s lips thinned as he crossed his arms over his chest. “It was self-defense from what I understand. The boy was cuffed and unarmed. Cobb should never have drawn his weapon in the first place.”
“The boy rushed him. It was completely understandable. Besides, if Ray didn’t draw his weapon first, the boy may have done it for him and then there may have been an even bigger—”
“Enough!” the sheriff growled, slamming his hand down upon the table. “I said this is settled. The boy’s father is coming to pick him up. It was self defense and the boy is free to go.”
Sam narrowed his eyes at the sheriff. The boy’s father turned out to be a member of the city council. Sam’s back teeth ached as he ground them. This wasn’t about right or wrong. This wasn’t about anything other than who knew who and whether the sheriff could get elected again next year. When Sam had quit the Pinkerton Agency to settle in San Francisco, he thought he was going to be continuing to serve the public but in a manner that was less wild and perhaps with less risk than being an agent. With plans of getting married and starting a family, Sam had taken a job as deputy, but now he was learning that being a part of a sheriff’s office was more about politics than justice.