An Agent for Penelope

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An Agent for Penelope Page 3

by Christine Sterling


  Marianne had been pining for the lead agent and manager of the Denver office. For being so smart, Archibald Gordon was rather senseless when it came to understanding the treasure he had right in front of him.

  Angus wished he had a woman look at him the way Marianne looked at Archie. Since it wouldn’t happen, Angus resigned himself to spending the rest of his days surrounded by the brotherhood of agents that vowed never to get married.

  He ran his hand down his face, hissing once more as his fingers touched the torn skin. He might as well get it over with and go see Archie. Perhaps if he couldn’t have Marianne, he could talk some sense into his boss.

  Pushing up with the palms of his hands, Angus grabbed the folder that was sitting next to him and headed out through the garden towards the main house.

  Chapter 3

  Denver, CO; The Pinkerton Office

  It had been a week since Penelope sent a telegram to Marianne’s office in Denver. Since she hadn’t heard any reply from her sister, she thought the best thing to do would be to go directly to the Pinkerton office and find Marianne herself.

  Caleb and Everett traveled to San Francisco immediately after discovering Alice’s letter but reported back that there was no sight of the evangelist or Alice. Penny was afraid they wouldn’t be able to find their sister.

  Secretly, she was hoping that Marianne would offer the services of one of the agents she worked with. Penny knew that if a Pinkerton was tracking the runaway couple, then the chances of her sister being found would increase.

  She arrived in Denver in the late afternoon. Giving directions for her bags to be sent to Mrs. Hawthorne’s Boarding House for Women, she left the station in search of a carriage to carry her to the Pinkerton office. There were several hackneys on the street, but most were already entertaining customers.

  She decided to see how far it was from the station to the office and determine if she could walk the distance. It was supposed to be a twenty-minute walk but turned into an hour as she took a wrong turn and ended up in a pretty park.

  Luckily, she spied a fruit vendor at one of the shops surrounding the park and asked him for directions.

  She found out she was a simple two block walk from the office. She thanked the man and headed off in the direction he indicated. Soon she approached the house that had been converted into an office. She stood there for a moment, in awe of the house’s elegance and architecture.

  The house was Victorian in design, with two large bay windows on the first level and several smaller windows on the second. There was a large round tower on the corner spanning the first and second floors. She could see a third floor, which appeared to be smaller than the lower two. She knew her sister’s room was on the uppermost level.

  She walked up the stairs leading to the porch which wrapped around three sides of the house. She placed her hand against one of the columns on the porch and let her fingers trace over the engravings carved in the wood.

  She recalled a letter from Marianne the first time her sister was in Denver describing the opulence of the house and her third-floor apartment in detail. Penny was green with envy when she received the letter.

  It certainly didn’t disappoint, Penny thought. She pushed away from the column and took the final step onto the porch. Her heels clicked against the wood.

  She took a deep breath, stood to her full five feet two inches and approached the door. She was just about to knock when it opened. There was a tall woman, a full head taller than she was standing in the doorway.

  The woman’s skin was white as snow and her hair was platinum. She had light colored lips that curled up in a smile. Her eyes were pale blue with a pinkish tint, surrounded by light lashes. She wore a plain white blouse with a broadcloth skirt in deep navy.

  “Oh, Marianne,” the woman replied. “Did you change your mind?”

  “I’m not…”

  “Pearl, let’s get going,” a voice called from behind her in a Scottish accent. The voice sounded gruff and almost a little demanding. Pearl stepped out onto the porch and a man in a dark suit jacket followed her.

  He was about to close the door when he spied Penny and quickly faltered, twisting on his feet and placing his arm out against the wall to steady himself.

  Penny inhaled quickly. The man was even taller than the woman he called Pearl. He was broad-shouldered and she could see the muscles in his arms stretching the suit fabric tight as he pressed against the wall.

  He had a full head of auburn hair and sported a bushy beard which only covered the sides of his face, not his chin. Muttonchops, Penny thought, with a smile.

  There was a dimple on his chin and his lips were pressed underneath his mustache. Penny could see a bruise on his cheek. It was fading, but the yellow and green tinted the skin under his striking blue eyes.

  Penny drank him in for a moment. Suddenly his lips curled up in a smile and Penny released her breath in a whoosh.

  “Uncanny,” he whispered. It was so light, that Penny had to strain to hear it. Was this Mr. Gordon? If so, no wonder Marianne was completely infatuated with her employer.

  “Uhm…” Penny started.

  Pearl placed her hand on the man’s arm. “Angus, we need to get going.” Releasing his arm, she turned to Penny, picking up her hand and giving it a squeeze. “You look tired. You should rest. We will have tea tomorrow and you can fill me in on why you returned.”

  Penny watched as Pearl headed down the steps, the Scotsman following behind her. As he passed, his scent invaded her nostrils. He smelled like smoke, leather and the single malt scotch her father would drink when he thought Marmee wasn’t around.

  His eyes bore into hers and Penny would have sworn his nostrils flared. He stopped in front of her. Before he could say anything, he was jerked forward.

  “Angus,” Pearl said, “I have to get home. My parents are awaiting.”

  Pearl gave a little wave and Penny felt her own hand raising before quickly putting it down. She faced the door once more. It was slightly opened, so wiping her hands on her skirt, she took a step forward before pushing the door open.

  She slid inside and quietly closed the door behind her. If Penny thought the outside of the building was magnificent, the inside was even more so. Velvet chairs with gold brocade trim were placed on either side of a large plant with broad leaves. Just past the chairs, Penny could see two open French-styled doors with white wood trim that led into a room with shelves of books.

  She popped her head in the room and took a quick glance around. It must be the library, she thought. Framed lithographs were scattered among the books lining the shelves.

  She left the library and walked past a wide oak staircase that led to a landing on the second level. Penny could see that there was another staircase going up to the third floor. She ran her finger along the handrail where it curved around towards the floor before continuing further into the house.

  She went past a desk that was sitting almost in front of the parlor. How peculiar. Why would there be a desk blocking the door? she thought. She then noticed the plaque at the front of the desk. M. Chapman was carved into a wooden block. This had to be her sister’s desk.

  Penny looked further down the hall. To the left was a closed door with the sound of muffled music passing into the hallway. It sounded like a Victrola. She recognized the tinny sound of the needle scratching the record.

  To the right was a dining room with a very large table. Penny counted at least twenty chairs sitting around it. There was a door off the dining room, that she thought might lead to the kitchen.

  Returning to the desk, she took a look at the papers on top. She wasn’t trying to be nosy, but papers were strewn all over the desk. Her sister was meticulous growing up. Penny couldn’t imagine her leaving papers in such disarray.

  Penny started to stack the papers on the desk, hoping to find a pad of paper or a scrap pad so that she could write a note to Marianne letting her know she was in town.

  As she moved the documents
around, a stack of letters appeared from underneath the loose papers. They were tied in a string. She recognized her mother’s handwriting and picked them up, thumbing through them.

  They were still sealed. Penny ran her thumb over her mother’s delicate, flowery penmanship. She could see where her mother’s tears had stained the envelope. She placed the envelope aside and picked up the next pile of papers. As she shuffled them, one of the sheets dropped to the floor.

  Penny knelt to retrieve the paper and the top line of the document caught her eye. It was addressed to the Chicago Pinkerton office.

  Will arrive on Saturday. STOP. No need to meet me. STOP. Staying three months. STOP. Marianne Chapman. STOP.

  Penny glanced at the date. It was sent over a week ago. Had her sister gone to Chicago? No wonder the family hadn’t heard from her. Penny put the telegram down and let out a frustrated sigh.

  Walking to the door where she heard the music, she knocked twice and stood back. When no one answered, she opened the door and glanced inside the room.

  She didn’t see anyone. There was a light on the desk and Penny could see that the room was a large office. There was a wooden desk with a chair behind it. A long table was behind the desk, with a hutch containing several cabinets. Knife marks were scattered against the wall. There were two leather chairs in front of the desk.

  Penny noticed a pad of paper and pencil on the top of the desk and went to fetch it to write Marianne a note. She was leaning over the desk scribbling feverishly when the sound of a man’s voice caused her to drop her pencil.

  “Marianne.” It was a Scottish brogue; softer than the one she had heard coming from the man with the striking blue eyes. “You returned.”

  Penny raised herself from the table and stiffened her spine. Her brain wanted to let the voice know she wasn’t Marianne, but when she opened her mouth the only thing that came out was a peep. She moved to turn around when the voice commanded her, “Stop. Let me just look at you.” She could hear the door squeak on its hinges as the man entered the room. “You are more lovely than I remember,” the voice said.

  Penny froze. Her eyes darted across the desk, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her brothers when they tried to teach her how to protect herself? She took a deep swallow and grabbed her skirt, wiping the moisture that had developed on her palms.

  “I promised myself I would tell you exactly what was on my heart. Do you remember what you said to me before you left?” Penny shook her head. She could hear the man sigh. “You said you weren’t going to return until I realized just how much of a pillock I am.”

  Penny snorted. That sounded exactly like something Marianne would say. She really needed to let this man know that she was not Marianne. She picked up the note from the desk and began to turn again.

  Before she could, the man was behind her and he had placed his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place. Penny could smell the scent of his cologne. It was spicy and woodsy. Not at all like the other Scotsman. Angus.

  “And I am,” the voice said, the soft tone deepening. “I am so sorry I didn’t see it before.”

  Uh-oh. Where was this going?

  “I was angry, and I let you leave. I promised that if you came back, I would tell you … well let me just say it this way.” She heard him inhale. “I realize I’m lost without you. You are such a part of me that I didn’t realize how lost I would be until you weren’t here anymore. Everywhere I look, I see you. I missed you, my darling. Might I even go as far as to say I lo..”

  “Whoa,” Penny exclaimed, quickly turning around to face the man who was confessing his love. “Slow down, Mister.” She saw the look of mortification come over the man’s face. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open. Penny put her finger out, silently pushing him back. His cheeks were turning as red as his hair as he took a step backwards and stumbled, falling onto the floor.

  “You… you aren’t Marianne,” he guffawed.

  “No, I’m not.” Penny raised her eyebrow and looked at the man who was sitting on the floor, knees bent, leaning back on his arms. He was handsome, but didn’t quicken her pulse the way the bulky Scot from earlier had. “Are you Mr. Gordon?”

  The man nodded his head and stammered, “y-y-yes.”

  Penny reached out her hand to offer to help him stand. When he stood, Penny grinned and pumped his hand several times in a firm shake. “I’m Penelope. Marianne’s sister. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Chapter 4

  It took less than thirty minutes for Angus to escort Pearl home. When he asked if she noticed anything different about Marianne, Pearl simply replied she appeared tired and maybe she had been in the sun too long.

  Angus didn’t voice what he was thinking – that the woman who arrived at the door was not Marianne, but someone who appeared almost identical.

  When he had first seen her that evening, as he and Pearl left the office, it did appear as if Marianne had returned to the Denver office. But as soon as he took a good look at the stranger, he realized it wasn’t Marianne.

  The differences were subtle. If you knew who you were looking at, then they were obvious. Marianne’s nose was crooked from where she fell on the ice in winter, this woman’s nose was perfect. Marianne kept her hair shorter, where the stranger’s hair fell in tight ringlets around her shoulders.

  Marianne had dark green eyes with gold flecks in them. This woman had bright green eyes with a gold ring around the iris. Yes, the differences were subtle, but they were there.

  The main difference was in the way they dressed. This woman wore dark heeled boots, raising her height by at least two inches. Marianne preferred kid slippers, only wearing boots in the winter.

  The stranger wore a bright pink dress with a lace collar and lace at the cuffs. Marianne would never be caught in anything pink. She definitely wouldn’t be caught in something pink with white lace.

  He thought it strange that Pearl didn’t notice those details. Normally she noticed everything. Lately she had been so preoccupied about her father that her main concern was getting home to relieve her mother. Angus had never seen such a hard worker before.

  He quickly hurried Pearl home before making his way back to the office to see if Marianne’s doppelganger was still at the house. He wasn’t disappointed when he heard a female voice coming from Archie’s office.

  He originally had planned to let Archie know that Pearl was escorted safely home and that he’d be leaving in the morning to resume his case with the fight club.

  As soon as he saw the red-haired beauty sitting across from Archie, he knew he had to stay. Boldly walking in, he made himself comfortable in the other overstuffed chair and silently dared Archie to make him leave.

  The woman sat in the chair across from Archie’s desk, worrying her hands.

  “The resemblance is uncanny,” Angus said looking at the young lady sitting in the chair next to him.

  “Hightower, what are you doing barging in and interrupting my meeting?” Archie said.

  Angus shrugged. “I just thought I’d stop in and see why Marianne’s doppelganger was at the office.”

  “How do you know it isn’t Marianne?” Archie said.

  “It is obvious if you know Marianne well enough.” Angus noticed Archie shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Angus grinned and stretched his hand out to the beautiful woman. “Angus Hightower, the best Pinkerton Agent this side of the Rockies.” He saw Archie roll his eyes.

  “Penelope Chapman,” the petite redhead replied, placing her hand in his. He closed his fingers around hers, his thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. Her eyes flew open to meet his and he noticed a pink blush gracing her cheeks.

  She felt it too, he thought.

  “Chapman?” Angus raised his eyebrow. “Are you related to Marianne?”

  “Since the day we were born. We are twins,” Penny said. She removed her hand and Angus immediately felt the loss.

  He shook his h
ead. “Marianne never mentioned having a twin.”

  Penny shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not surprised. We are very different.”

  “Why are you here, Miss Chapman?” Archie asked.

  “Please call me Penny. It is what my friends and family call me.” She looked from Archie to Angus. “I came here because I need Marianne’s help. We have a family … situation.”

  “What type of situation?” Angus asked.

  Penny gave him a sideways glance. “A situation that involves my family and that Marianne can help with.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you unless I know more than it is a family situation,” Archie responded.

  “Is there any way to get a hold of Marianne?” Penny bit her lower lip. “Any way at all?”

  “I suppose we could send her a telegram and let her know you are here, but what are you hoping that will accomplish?”

  Penny lifted her finger to her lips. Angus could see her biting her nail. That was something the sisters had in common.

  “What is it, lass?” Angus said in his softest brogue. “We might be able to help.”

  Penny lifted her eyes to him. Her cheeks were becoming mottled with red patches as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I need Marianne’s help because our sister has gone missing.”

  “Missing?” Archie asked. “When did this happen?”

  “About two weeks ago.”

  “And you are just letting us know now?” Archie bellowed.

  Penny pressed her lips together. “It does no good to get cross, Mr. Gordon. I sent a letter to Marianne to let her know what happened.” She crossed her legs, affording Angus a glimpse of her slim ankle encased in kid leather. “When she didn’t respond, I figured I should come here before heading to San Francisco.”

  “Why are you going to San Francisco?” Angus asked.

  “The man she ran away with was heading there.”

  “She ran away with a man,” Archie stated.

  Penny nodded. “She left a letter telling us she had eloped. Marmee is inconsolable.” She placed her hand on the desk. “Please, Mr. Gordon. My brothers went to San Francisco, but they couldn’t find Alice or Mr. Benson.”

 

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