The Dolan Girls

by S. R. Mallery

  The man in black standing in line stepped aside, and drew his gun. “Now, I ain’t that nice. Don’t anyone make a noise, ‘cause that’ll just get my back up.” He grabbed the mother and dragged her two feet away. With his gun pressed against her temple and his free hand tight around her throat, he announced proudly, “See? I ain’t so nice!”

  While the other bandit shoved the teller and manager into the back room, Thomas made a fast study of the situation, and quietly inched toward the gunman in black. As horrified customers focused on the panicked mother, her son started to whimper, “Mama, Mama.”

  The gunman twitched. “Shut that boy up!” he growled, tightening his chokehold even more and waving his gun in the air. “If no one stops that little bastard, I’m gonna smack ‘im good!”

  Slowly, deliberately, Thomas continued his approach.

  “Hey! What do you think you’re doin’?” the gunman growled.

  With both hands slightly raised, the agent said calmly, “I was just trying to help the boy.”

  “Gist get ‘im to stop cryin’!”

  “Yes, that’s what I aim to do.”

  “Then do it!”

  Thomas moved over to the boy and gently pushed him toward the nearby cowboy. Surprised, the cowpoke reached out to the boy and drew him close.

  Soon the teller, manager, and other bandit returned, as the boy put up another wail.

  “Shut that kid up, or I’ll do it for you!” the gunman snarled, his gun pointed at the pleading mother.

  The masked outlaw from the back room faced his darkly-clothed accomplice. “What the hell is going on out here?” he barked.

  “I can’t think with all the racket he’s makin’,” the gunman complained, loosening his hold on the mother.

  “Are you serious? Forget about the boy! We’re here for the money, ain’t we?” the masked man shouted at his cantankerous partner, waving his gun around, the ‘hostages’ momentarily forgotten.

  That was all the time Thomas needed. His gun drawn, he took two fast steps and elbowed the distracted, nasty gunman in the chin. Fanning his gun, the Pinkerton pumped a volley of shots into the legs of both robbers. They thudded onto the floor like two sacks of potatoes, and when one of them moved, the Pinkerton kicked his gun away.

  The mother and child fell into each other’s arms, and the room erupted in cheers.

  “Are they dead?” The manager asked.

  “No, but they sure are going to be easy to tie up and take to jail,” the agent answered, pulling out his handcuffs.

  After the sheriff came and carted them off, the manager placed his hand on Thomas’s shoulder. “What can I say? Thank you,” he said sheepishly.

  Word of the incident spread fast––throughout Cheyenne, and as far away as Chicago. By the time Chief Deputy Prather paid a visit with two seasoned agents, he was ready to give Thomas the world.

  “I must say, Agent Garrett, your handling of the Sutton Bank robbery is a powerful testament to your fine abilities. I’ve therefore brought Agents Peterson and Wilheim here so they can easily help you in your administrative duties as you expand your entire operation.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “It also seems to me that it is about time to commence our plan to send an undercover agent to Omaha soon.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, agent.”

  “Might I suggest something here, sir?”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve been thinking…”

  Prather crossed his arms. “Out with it, man!”

  “Sir, I believe it would perhaps be better not to have an agent go under cover in Omaha, where the outlaws will be looking for anyone deputized. Frankly, sir, they can smell a Pinkerton.”

  “Interesting theory. So where do you suggest we go?”

  “I was thinking perhaps a small neighboring town that was separate from, but close to Omaha, would be a better idea. A town like South Benton.” Eyeing Prather, he waited.

  “South Benton? Never heard of it.”

  “Exactly. That’s why it’s so perfect. I’ve been doing some research. It’s only a few miles away from Omaha, and although it’s still growing, they have do banks, saloons, and whorehouses. I even found the perfect whorehouse for my undercover operation.”

  Prather sat still, drumming his fingers on top of Thomas’s desk. “Let me think about this, and I will get back to you, all right? You now have two good agents here with you. Either one of them would be perfect for the job. Why a whorehouse, by the way?”

  “I figure that’s where any riff-raff is going to go.”

  “Good point,” Prather said. “But how will you know which one is the best?”

  Thomas cleared his throat. “Actually, I was speaking to someone the other day, who talked about a fine place he had gone to, just a few months ago. It’s called Madam Ana’s. Biggest one in town, which means lots of visitors. Good reputation.”

  A few days later, when Thomas got word that an important telegram had come over the wire from the Chicago Pinkerton Agency that morning, he immediately raced over.

  “My, aren’t we important!” Harriet Coley beamed, handing it over to him and batting her eyes. “I keep telling you, you would be perfect for the Cheyenne Club. I’m a member myself, you know.”

  But he never even looked up. Focused on the telegram, he was having trouble stopping his heart from exploding out of his chest.

  TO: AGENT GARRETT CHEYENNE OFFICE. STOP. COMMENCE PLAN IMMEDIATELY. STOP. LETTER ALREADY SENT TO DESIGNATED LOCATION IN SOUTH BENTON. STOP. SEND AGENT OF YOUR CHOICE. STOP. SIGNED CHIEF DEPUTY J.PRATHER

  “This is good news, then?” She smiled coquettishly.

  He thanked her absently and walked out the door, grinning from ear to ear. He knew exactly which agent was going undercover at Madam Ana’s.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Full Circles

  “Lord, have mercy,” Minnie muttered, as Thomas stepped into the room.

  Moving forward with a broad smile, the Pinkerton was certain they could hear his heart banging like a kettledrum.

  Eyes wide, hand at her throat, Cora managed a weak “Thomas?” before missing her seat and collapsing onto the floor.

  He ran over to her and knelt down. “Cora, Cora,” he fussed, stroking her head.

  Cora stared up at him, dazed, as if in a trance.

  He smiled, assured things would be perfect from this moment on from the way she looked at him. Then her face changed. Her mouth curled downward, and she openly ignored his outstretched hand, taking Minnie’s instead.

  “Why are you here?” she grumbled.

  “Cora. After all this time?” he began.

  “Exactly, all this time!” She dusted herself off and moved behind the large desk.

  Looking from one sister to the other, he checked their eyes thoroughly before turning business-like. So much for memories, he reflected. “Yes, it’s been a long time, ladies. Minnie, Cora.”

  Minnie broke the awkward silence. “I thought Pinkertons were always clean shaven.”

  “Interesting statement after all these years,” he muttered. “They are usually, but I’m undercover, remember?”

  Just then Pete burst in. “My boy! I suppose I can no longer call you that, can I?” he said, outstretching his arms. Reassured, Thomas grinned back, and as the two men gave each other bear hugs, Cora watched, stone-faced.

  “There’s a lot to do, even if you’re not really here as a bookkeeper,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “But I can do that if need be.” He surveyed the room. “I must say you both have done a truly splendid job with his place. Madam Ana would be so proud of you both.” But it was Cora he was studying.

  “Yes, yes, they certainly have. I’m so happy you’re back, dear boy!” With that, Pete tipped his hat and disappeared into the parlor.

  Sasha entered again. “Do you still need me, Mrs. Cora?” she asked, smiling coquettishly at the newcomer.

  “No, that’ll be all,�
� Cora said. “Minnie, please show Thomas the area we’ve set up for him.” Turning to him, she continued. “In the meantime, we can expect you to begin tomorrow, right?”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes watchful.

  “We can certainly come up with a list of tasks for you, Agent Garrett. In fact that’ll be no problem.” Not looking at him, she instructed Minnie to go ahead and take him to his new office they had set up for him down the hall.

  After a little while, Minnie reappeared. “Life sure is unpredictable.”

  “Yes, it certainly is,” Cora agreed, rubbing the back of her neck.

  “Well? Tell me what you’re thinking.” Minnie came in close.

  “I honestly don’t know what I’m thinking, Minnie. I see him, and it’s as if he never went away.”

  Minnie smiled. “Well, that’s good.”

  “But I also can’t stop being furious with him when I see him.”

  “That’s bad.” Minnie put her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “Just remember, Cora, he’s here now. Your true love, and he’s …”

  “After all these years? After needing him when I was pregnant? After Ellie was born, and during all those years after the war was over? No, the fact is, he deserted me, Minnie. That’s all there is to it.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe there were reasons.”

  “He deserted me.” Swiveling around, Cora stalked out of their office.

  * *

  The next morning, the Pinkerton arrived bright and early, well dressed, and declaring he was ready to discuss the premises. Did each window have a lock on it? Was there a separate entrance to the cellar? Was it possible to come in through the roof? How many rooms were upstairs? He went down his list like a well-oiled machine, and when he was formally introduced to the doves as their new bookkeeper, the lingering looks reminded Cora of when Brett had first come in. You’d think these girls had never seen a man before, she inwardly fumed. If he thinks he can just waltz in and get back into her good graces, he’s much mistaken.

  “Where is your daughter?” he finally asked.

  “She’s already at school, teaching,” Cora replied.

  “Thomas, you should see her, she’s wonderful,” Minnie said, beaming.

  “She obviously takes after her mother, not her…” His pause hovered over them like an impending rain cloud.

  Without looking at her sister, Minnie cleared her throat. “Yes. Why don’t you take Thomas around the house, Cora, so he can see what we need?”

  It turned out the house was a total security risk. No locks were on windows, the roof had a ladder down one side of the building, and the cellar door was not only unlocked, it was slightly ajar.

  He shook his head. “I hate to tell you, but this place is a train wreck just waiting to happen.”

  She looked up at him, trying not to stare into those deep pools of blue. “Do you honestly think we’re in danger?”

  “It’s quite possible. Our information indicates that soon a lot of Nebraska won’t be safe, and seeing as South Benton is so close to Omaha, it makes sense they’d try here. I must check out the local banks. For your information, my presence was requested by my superior, not by me,” he added.

  “So it wasn’t your choice to come?”

  “Oh, Cora, please,” he pleaded.

  “How did you know?” she said defiantly.

  “Know what?”

  “About us being in danger.”

  He shrugged, but his expression indicated otherwise, and when he offered his arm to help her climb up the cellar steps, once again, she brushed off his gesture. Marching forward, she squared her shoulders, his sigh floating behind her.

  Back up in their office, he cleared his throat. “How ‘bout a short tour of the town now? I really need to check out the local banks and the post office, too.”

  “Maybe Minnie could go. I should stay here,” Cora replied, ignoring her sister’s rolled eyes.

  “I’d like you to come with me, Cora,” he said so softly it was almost a whisper.

  Minnie practically pushed her out the door with him. Out on the shaded porch that creaked like old times, they seemed like any ordinary couple. Except they aren’t, she reminded herself angrily.

  Thomas marveled at all the changes; how Madam Ana’s now had matching maroon colored awnings and how the little cupola constructed five years ago added a European feel.

  Although Cora smiled, she admitted, “Thank you, but honestly, I’m beginning to feel it’s too much for me, and for Minnie.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, the upkeep is enormous and the customers, they’re changing.”

  “How so?” he asked.

  “They’ve become, unpredictable.” She sighed. “Sometimes, I wonder.”

  “What? What do you wonder? ” He leaned in a little closer.

  “I wonder if this place is gonna be the death of us.”

  “Maybe it’s a good thing I’m here, then.”

  He smiled, but didn’t take her arm as they approached the nearby bank, South Benton National, a solid brick building with dusty vines climbing up its sides and half-opened windows.

  “Disastrous,” he kept muttering.

  John Corrigan’s was next, and when one of the saloon gals leaning against the swinging door offered him a broad wink, Cora stiffened.

  “Friendlier town than I remembered,” he said.

  Her snort sounded like one of Brett’s show horses. “Not everyone.”

  At the post office, Matthew Johnson lit up as soon as he saw Cora. Reaching over the counter for her gloved hand, he ignored the Pinkerton. Instantly, Thomas bristled. Cora coughed, her cheeks dashed with pink.

  “Matthew, I believe you’ve met Mr. Garrett. He’s our new accountant.”

  The postmaster looked at the detective and scowled. “Oh yes, I remember Mr. Garrett very well.”

  Thomas nodded, his eyes narrowed. “And I, you.”

  Cora looked from one man to the other.

  The postmaster glanced down at her gloved hand, then grinned up at her. As an afterthought, he turned toward Thomas. “I do hope you’re going to help this very special lady out, Mr. Garrett.”

  “Mr. Johnson, I know how to do my job, thank you very much.”

  Uncomfortable at the men’s exchange, Cora took her old flame’s arm and firmly guided him out the door, Mr. Johnson’s soft snicker behind them.

  “Honestly, Thomas, I don’t know why you were so rude to him. After all, we’ve both known him for a long time.”

  He drew a deep breath. “I have my reasons.”

  “Why you even bother getting upset is beyond me. He’s a harmless enough man.”

  “Maybe, but it was because of him that…well, never mind. Let’s continue, shall we?”

  She put her hand on his arm. “Wait a minute,” she said. “What do you have against him?”

  He sighed. “Let’s just say that because of him, I didn’t get to do what I wanted. That’s all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Cora, let’s just move on.”

  Four blocks away, they passed old Mr. Mahoney’s store, where together they had spent many a happy hour begging for candy together. Since he had died, his son had taken over and waved to her from across the street. “Nice day, Mrs. Cora, isn’t it?”

  He cupped his hand over his eyes and stared at the two of them, prompting Cora to say to Thomas, “I suppose I’ll have to introduce you to him soon.”

  “Yes, just treat me as if I’m one of your employees, not a friend.”

  “That’s true enough, isn’t it?” Her sarcasm was meant to hit him full force. It worked. As they moved on, he remained silent, even when she pointed out an old building and chuckled.

  “Remember the day that woman flung out her dirty water from the second floor on top of Pete who just happened to be walking by?”

  A mischievous grin overtook him. “I surely do. He got soaked!”

  Still laughing, this time she placed her hand unconsciou
sly onto his arm. “Yes, remember how he tried to quote a famous poem but nothing made any sense? It was all gibberish!”

  “I actually remember the poem,” he declared.

  “You do?”

  “Yes, indeed. It was The Twenty-third Psalm,” he answered, face-to-face with her.

  “I suppose the Bible was appropriate to quote in that life-altering situation.”

  Their laughter was like old times until Cora remembered her pain. Her lips straightened into a tight grimace. Oh, no you don’t, Thomas, she thought. It’s not that simple.

  * *

  Turned out Thomas was talented with numbers. By the end of the second day he had their paperwork in impeccable order. Accounts receivable and accounts payable were organized into two separate files. Another file was marked for ‘Future Promotional Endeavors,’ a third for renovation of their establishment, a fourth for notes Cora had scribbled regarding policies toward the doves.

  At three-thirty, when Ellie came home and burst into their office to tell Cora and Minnie about her new plans for a movable town library, she found the Pinkerton. The usually cluttered mahogany desk was neat as a pin, and the file titles clearly legible.

  “My goodness, it’s so neat in here!” popped out of her mouth first thing.

  He looked up and smiled. “Ellie, I presume?”

  “You presume right, and you are?”

  “Agent Garrett.”

  “The Pinkerton agent, correct? Oh, no! I’m not supposed to reveal that.” She had her hand over her mouth in mock concern.

  Chuckling, he stood up and extended his hand. “Pleased to meet you. Please call me Thomas.”

  Her faced shifted in an instant. “Thomas. The Thomas?”

  “Yes, I suppose I am.” He eyed her carefully. How pretty she was. So similar to the young Cora. Same alabaster skin, same clear, innocent eyes, same sweetness Cora used to have.

  “You do realize, my mother is probably going to give you a hard time. She never forgets anything.”

  He nodded. “Yes, I learned that fact the hard way.” Straightening his cravat, he asked, “Well, what about you? You’re a teacher. That’s wonderful. Helping children is so important.”