“Yes.” A little shiver shuddered through Harris. “Dreadful-sounding place! I hear it was a success.”
Cade nodded. “We found out who was luring women out West, and we found out who killed Lilly’s friend, so yes, it was successful.”
“That’s wonderful.” Harris rose and led them to one of the inner offices where William was waiting to hear the details of the mission.
He greeted them with his customary handshake and offered them a seat. “So,” he said, making a steeple with his fingertips. “You found the culprit.”
“We found several of them, sir,” Cade told him. “But I’m afraid it will take more than a couple of weeks to clean that place up. It will require lawmen who aren’t taking money to look the other way, and a concerted community effort determined to rid the place of crime.”
“It isn’t called the oldest profession for no reason, Agent McShane,” William said. “As long as there is a demand for some product or service, there will always be someone willing to provide it.”
“That’s true.”
“Tell me what we have.”
Together, Lilly and Cade told William everything they’d learned about Wilkins’s obtaining women and children for sexual slavery. Cade explained Marshal Davies’s prior relationship with Velvet, and how Rosalie had encouraged the group of cowboys who’d raped Nora. They told him it had been Rosalie herself who had killed Nora after Davies told her that Nora had put all the pieces of their ugly enterprise together, and that she knew that the golden-haired madam was the one behind her attack.
“Did you ever find out who murdered the other girl . . . Dottie?” William asked.
“We may never know.”
“What about Davies’s connections to Rosalie and Velvet.”
“He did own a piece of both businesses,” Lilly said. “Which is why none of the charges against them ever stuck for long.”
“And his failed relationship with Velvet? Did you find out what ended that?”
Lilly looked to Cade for help. “We did,” he said in a hesitant voice. “He wouldn’t say, but, when we asked her, she said that he liked, uh . . . female domination, and she preferred, as she called them, ‘manly men.’”
“Good grief!” William said, blushing to the roots of his pomaded hair and casting an apologetic look at Lilly. He didn’t quite meet Cade’s eyes as he asked, “Am I to assume she had no problem with his taking up with Rosalie?”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, life is interesting, isn’t it?”
“It is, sir.”
Lilly praised Erin for everything she’d done to help them, and it was Lilly who told William of the events leading to Wilkins’s capture, while Cade sat stone-faced, his fingers gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles were white.
William appeared truly touched by the tale. “That’s unfortunate. I might have been able to use her now and again.”
Lilly leaned forward. “Do you mean you might hire her, sir? Another woman?”
William had the grace to blush. It was well known that while Allan Pinkerton considered women to be a vital part of the work, his other son, Robert, and many others, thought they were ill suited for the job. At best, William had seemed ambivalent about the notion. At least until now.
“It had crossed my mind when you wrote to say how well she’d carried out her duties. But that won’t be happening, it seems.”
“Why is that?”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“We had supper with her last night,” Cade offered. “She didn’t have a lot to say about anything.”
“I see. Well, I hope I am not letting the cat out of the bag, but Mr. Linedecker came in yesterday before meeting you at the station and tendered his resignation.”
“What!” Lilly couldn’t hide her surprise.
“I believe Simon will make a fine addition to your family.” William straightened some already tidy papers on his desk, signaling the interview was over. “Once again, I commend the two of you for the successful conclusion of your assignment, but before you go, I wanted to talk to you about the money that Miss Nash sent.”
“Is there a problem?”
“Nothing beyond what to do with the balance. Since it didn’t take as long as we anticipated, there is somewhere around one-hundred-fifty dollars left. I was wondering if it would be acceptable to the two of you to divide it equally among the three of you. It would make a nice wedding gift for Mr. Linedecker and Miss McShane.”
“That’s fine with me,” Cade said. “As a matter of fact, you can give her my share as well.”
“And mine.”
Cade looked at Lilly as if she’d gone mad. “You could use that money.”
“I could,” she agreed. “But so could you. Simon was a great help when I was looking for representation for my divorce from Timothy, and I grew fond of Erin while we worked together. Those two could use some good fortune.”
He nodded. “Fine, then. Mr. Pinkerton, please see to it that they get whatever money is left.”
“I’ll do that.” William regarded the two of them with a solemn expression. “I realize you have barely had time to breathe between assignments, but I chose you for them because they seemed to call for a team.” The expression in his eyes was thoughtful. “Miss Long, you must be feeling overwhelmed. The law-keeping business wears on you, even though what we do is worthwhile and needed.”
How could he know how she was feeling? Lilly shot Cade a disapproving look. Had he said something to William about her doubts?
Cade shrugged, as if to say he had no idea where this was coming from.
“I want the two of you to take some time. I’ll try not to give you any new assignments for at least a month. Lilly, why don’t you find out where Pierce and his wife are and spend some time with them? It would do you good.”
“Thank you, sir. That sounds wonderful.”
“All right.” William stood. The interview was over.
Out on the sidewalk, Cade turned to her with his hands stuck in his pockets. “So, it looks as if we’re getting a break.”
“Yes.”
“Is there any significance in the fact that you didn’t say anything to William about quitting?”
“Not really. I’m still thinking about it.”
“I see. The time off will be good for you. Maybe a rest will help you decide what you want to do.”
“I hope so. Did you say anything to William? Is that why he gave us this break?”
He sketched an X over his heart. “Cross my heart. I didn’t say a word. William’s a smart man. And very observant.”
True.
“He’s right, Lilly. The work is hard, and, unless you’re one of those who eats and breathes it, the way I always have, it takes a lot from you.”
“Even you?”
“Even me.” Cade exhaled heavily. “Look, lass, I canna make your decision for you, but don’t throw away a promising career because of one bad experience.”
“Bad experience!” she challenged. “The man intended to—to have his way with me. That isn’t something easily forgotten, as you heard your sister say.”
He scrubbed a hand down his clean-shaven face. “I know. I’m doing a poor job of this.”
“Yes, McShane, you are.”
“What I meant to say is that there will be plenty of times you’ll be in a pickle. Maybe something worse than that.”
“My, aren’t you Job’s comforter,” she said, crossing her arms over her breasts.
The sound that came from his throat sounded like a growl. He abandoned all efforts at trying to be sensitive with his advice. Sensitivity was not McShane’s forte. “What I’m trying to say is that you were warned about the hardships, but you wanted to help women and said you could take it!”
He was right. Lilly recalled the arguments her family and even the Pinkertons had made before hiring her, but she’d come straight off Tim’s betrayal and felt she had a noble calling to try to make wrongs righ
t.
“What I’m tryin’ to tell ya is that you signed up for danger. Helping victims and putting criminals away puts you face-to-face with violence. The things people do to one another . . . men and women . . . are often beyond our imagination, but those people who are injured deserve justice.”
“Is that all?” she asked.
“No.”
She gave him a questioning look.
For a moment, it looked as if he was trying to decide what to say next.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
She hadn’t expected that. Leave it to him to keep her wondering. “I have no idea. Why?”
“I thought if you didn’t have anything planned, we could go to the gym, and I could teach you a few boxing moves. I’ve heard of this man in New York who thinks boxing is one of the best ways to stay fit and healthy. And he teaches it in a whole new way.”
She looked at Cade as if he’d lost his mind. Hadn’t he heard a word she’d said? She wouldn’t need boxing moves and self-defense tactics if she went back to the theater.
Despite her doubts, she nodded. “Fine. Where and what time?”
If you enjoyed this Lilly Long adventure,
be sure to look for
THOUGH THIS BE MADNESS
by Penny Richards
Available at your favorite bookstore and e-tailors.
Turn the page for a quick peek!
CHAPTER 1
1881
89 Dearborn, Chicago
Pinkerton Offices
“I bloody well won’t do it!” The declaration came from the man pacing the floor of William Pinkerton’s office. “I’m a Pinkerton agent, not a blasted nanny.”
William Pinkerton pinned the young operative with an unrelenting look from beneath heavy brows. “You haven’t any choice, McShane.”
Andrew Cadence McShane faced his boss with a defiant expression. “What? I haven’t yet groveled enough for you and your father?”
William stifled his own irritation at the bold statement. McShane was a loose cannon, and if it were up to William, he’d fire the man on the spot. Indeed, Allan had fired him a year ago, for drinking and brawling and behaving in a way that was unacceptable to Pinkerton’s code of conduct. But, claiming that he had his life together at last, McShane had come asking for his job back about the same time the young actress, Lilly Long, had applied for a position. Allan, who had always thought the Irishman was one of his best agents, had rehired him on a provisional basis.
“You know exactly what I mean,” William said in a measured tone. “No one was holding a gun to your head when you agreed to the terms of our rehiring you, which, as you no doubt recall, was probation for an undetermined length of time.”
Feeling a certain amount of uneasiness over his father’s decision to hire McShane and Miss Long, William had suggested that McShane be assigned to keep an eye out for the inexperienced new operative on her first mission, which would—Lord willing—keep him too preoccupied to get into any more scrapes. Allan had agreed.
So while new agent Lilly Long tried to locate the Reverend Harold Purcell, a preacher who had stolen from his congregation and disappeared from his home near Vandalia, Illinois, McShane had kept tabs on her by pretending to be part of a traveling boxing troupe. He’d been no happier about the job than Miss Long had been about her missing person assignment, but they’d both known they were in no position to object,just as neither had any say about this new arrangement.
“Until we feel confident that you will not resort to your previous unacceptable behavior, you will partner with Miss Long.”
McShane’s eyes went wide with something akin to shock. “It was a barroom brawl, sir. I did not reveal any secrets or compromise my assignment in any way.”
“We’ve been through all this before, McShane, and I refuse to revisit it.” William’s gaze shied away from the younger man’s, which had lost its belligerence and grown as bleak as the stormy spring morning.
William cleared his throat. “Believe me, I understand that on a personal level you were going through an extremely rough patch at the time, and for that you have my sympathy, but you must understand that the agency cannot have our operatives behaving in ways that make us look bad. We have a sterling reputation, and we will do what we must to make sure it stays that way. If you continue to do well, you’ll soon be on your own again.”
All the fiery irritation seemed to drain from the younger man. “Yes, sir.”
“Actually, this assignment is one that will be best served by a man and woman working together.”
Seemingly resigned, McShane took a seat in the chair across from William’s desk. “Tell me about it.”
“I prefer to explain things to you and Miss Long together,” William said. “She should be here any minute. But I will tell you this much. The two of you will be going to New Orleans.”
* * *
The rain had stopped . . . at least for the moment, but thick black clouds still roiled uneasily in the sky when Lilly’s cab pulled up in front of the five-story building that housed the Pinkerton offices. She paid the driver and, careful to step around the puddles, entered the structure with a feeling of elation.
Since returning from her first assignment just a week ago, she’d been riding the wave of her success in bringing her first case to a satisfactory conclusion and basking in the knowledge that she would continue to be employed by the prestigious detective firm. She’d been more than a little surprised when she received a message that morning stating that William wanted to see her at once.
Though she knew she had a long way to go before becoming a seasoned agent, the praise she’d received from both William and Allan was, to paraphrase the bard, “the stuff that dreams were made of.” When her missing person assignment had evolved into solving a twenty-year-old murder, it had been satisfying to know that she’d helped bring about justice. And Allan, who loved correcting what he perceived as social wrongdoing, had been quite satisfied that things had been made as right as humanly possible. She was eager to embark on her next mission.
Pausing outside the doorway, she tucked a loose strand of red hair beneath the brim of the straw hat she’d purchased as a treat for herself the day before. The soft green of the grosgrain ribbons was the exact hue of her new walking dress with its high stand-up collar topped with the wide, heavy white lace that marched down the front. The off-the-ground hem of her narrow skirt showed the pointed toes of her matching shoes and was trimmed with a wide band of the lace.
She stepped through the door to the outer office, where William’s clerk, Harris, pounded on the keys of the Remington typewriter, using the hunt-and-peck system. The morning sunshine behind him illuminated the long, thin wisps of graying hair that had been combed over to help disguise his balding pate.
Hearing her at the door, he looked up. “Good morning, Miss Long,” he said with a polite smile. “You’re looking chipper today.”
“Hello, Harris,” she replied. “I am chipper this morning. I’m anxious to get back to work.”
Harris stood. “I’ll just let them know you’re here,” he said.
Them. Lilly smiled. Oh, good. Allan was going to be involved in her next project. She had the feeling that the intrepid lawman supported her hiring, even though William was ambivalent at best about his father’s determination to hire female agents.
“Miss Long is here,” Harris said, moving aside for Lilly to enter.
When she stepped through the aperture, William was already coming around the desk, his hand extended in greeting. But it wasn’t William who caught Lilly’s attention. It was the man who had risen from a chair as she entered the room. It wasn’t Allan Pinkerton who stood when she stepped through the doorway. It was Cadence McShane.
With her attention focused on the other man, she barely heard William’s words of welcome. The last time she’d seen McShane was after the completion of the Heaven’s Gate assignment. He’d made a cryptic comment and disappeared into the crowd. She thoug
ht she’d seen the last of him, so what was he doing here, she wondered as he took her hand in greeting. His palm was rough and warm, and his words and smile were pleasant, but the coldness in his sapphire-blue eyes was undeniable.
What the devil was going on? she wondered again, her lively imagination steering her toward a conclusion that was not the least bit acceptable. Seeking an answer to the questions churning around in her head, Lilly turned her puzzled gaze to William. Allan Pinkerton’s son was noted for his speed in assessing situations, and he did not miss the query on Lilly’s face or the disdain on McShane’s.
“Have a seat, Miss Long,” he said, gesturing toward the chair Cade had vacated at her arrival.
Clutching her purse in her lap, Lilly did his bidding.
“My father and I have decided on your next assignment,” William told her, wasting no time getting to the point. “You and McShane will be going to New Orleans.”
“What!” Lilly’s gaze flew to McShane’s. If the grim twist of his lips and the blatant annoyance in his eyes were any indication, he was no happier than she.
“Do you really feel this is necessary, sir?” she protested. “While I appreciate the fact that you were concerned about my inexperience, I understood the agency was happy with my work in Vandalia.”
“We were extremely pleased,” William assured her, “but one successful assignment does not afford you any vast field knowledge. While you were the one who rooted out the truth about the Purcells, if it had not been for McShane, you might very well be dead.”
She could not deny that there was a kernel of truth in William’s statement. She’d been trapped in the attic of the Purcell home, and though she’d been in the process of trying to free herself by jumping from a small window onto a steep roof, her plan might have gone very wrong. McShane had rescued her from a sticky situation.
“Keeping your youth and inexperience in mind, my father and I feel that, at least for the next few assignments, you and McShane should work together. It will give you a chance to hone your skills.”
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