An Agent for Gwendolyn

by Jenna Brandt

  Bradley wanted to argue his point, believing it was a fleeting idea that soon would run its course. He could tell, however, by the look in David’s eyes, he didn’t believe that. Arguing about it would only result in disapproval, and that wasn’t something he needed. The more his boss liked what he did, the better the cases he was assigned. If he didn’t control his anger over the situation, he would end up guarding spoiled debutantes and their belongings, who were having their purses and coats stolen at restaurants and dances.

  There was a commotion outside the room and several shouts just before a small, furry creature came rushing into the room, startling both David and Bradley.

  “What on earth just ran under your desk?” Bradley asked with incredulity, jumping up and coming around it to figure out what he had just witnessed.

  “I’m not quite sure,” David said, bending down to find out himself.

  A mid-sized golden dog—Bradley wasn’t sure what kind exactly—was cowering in the back corner of the cut-out under the desk. As he debated what to do about it, a woman’s voice from the door caused both men to look up.

  “Reginald, come here right this instant. I told you to be a good boy when we got here.” The dog scurried out from under the desk, rushing to the woman’s feet. She bent down to pick up the dog, then glanced at the two men in the room as she stood up. “I’m sorry. He’s normally much better behaved than this, but he’s in an unfamiliar place filled with strangers.”

  “And exactly why is he here?” Bradley asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “He’s my companion, of course,” she said, as if it was the most common thing in the world. “Where else would he be?”

  Companion? What was this woman thinking, to bring a dog to a workplace? She must have no idea how things worked in the real world, which was only confirmed by her expensive dress, hat, and shoes. He could tell she came from money, or at least did at one time. The money must be gone now, or she wouldn’t be looking for a job that required marriage to a stranger.

  The woman came closer, putting out her free hand to Bradley, while holding the dog in the other. “Hello, Mr. Holmes, I’m pleased to meet you. I’m Miss Gwendolyn Whitley.”

  He looked at her hand for a moment before deciding to take it. As he reached out though, the dog growled at him, like a warning to keep his distance. Quickly, he yanked it back. There was no way he was getting bitten by a dog.

  “Reginald, what has gotten into you?” Gwendolyn scolded, her cheeks turning pink from the dog’s reaction. “You need to be nice to Mr. Holmes. He’s going to be your father in just a few minutes.”

  Bradley crossed his arms as he adamantly shook his head. “I hardly think so. I’m not about to treat a dog like it’s my child.”

  Her eyes darted to meet his, growing round with shock, then fury. “Wherever I go, Reginald goes. We’re a package deal. It’s non-negotiable.”

  “Well, that settles that. I didn’t sign up for this,” Bradley protested, turning around to face his boss. “You can’t expect me to train someone who thinks like that.”

  “Like what, Mr. Holmes? A person who connects with something other than himself? I won’t apologize for loving Reginald. He’s been more loyal to me than any person has ever been.”

  Bradley spun back around, ready to argue with her further, but found himself dumbstruck as he looked into her gorgeous, dark blue eyes that were sparkling with anger in the most enticing way. He couldn’t help but acknowledge that she was quite striking, with cornsilk blonde hair, a heart-shaped face, and a curvy body enhanced by the perfectly tailored blue dress she was wearing. The problem was, he’d come to realize over the years, the prettier the woman, the more trouble she tended to be, and Gwendolyn Whitley was as pretty as they came.

  “I think you can figure this all out after you’re married,” David said, glancing at his watch. “Which should be at any moment. The judge is due to arrive.”

  Could Bradley really go through with this? When it had been in theory that was one thing. Now that his actual bride stood in front of him, could he make vows of marriage to her for the sake of his job? Before he could debate the matter further, there was a knock at the door, and one of the local judges came into the room.

  “I see both parties are here,” the judge said with approval. “Good, we can get this done quickly.”

  And just like that, the ceremony was underway. Ten minutes later, he was a married man with a new wife shackled to him. He wasn’t sure how to navigate this new obstacle, but he only needed to put up with her for a year. He’d been through worse. He could manage being temporarily married to her, couldn’t he?

  Chapter 2

  The ring was on her finger; a constant reminder that Gwendolyn had made the decision to marry a man she’d known for all of ten minutes. Even though he was a tall, handsome man with a head full of black hair, smoldering dark eyes, and a chiseled face and physique, she didn’t want to be distracted by his good looks. It was what had happened with Phillip, causing her to overlook how little there was to their relationship beyond infatuation. She refused to let that happen to herself again. This was strictly business.

  Now that the deed was done, she had to make peace with her decision. Of course, considering her other options, she figured this was the lesser of the bad choices she had available. Little work was available for women and she couldn’t imagine answering a mail-order bride advert. At least at the end of this, she could walk away from the marriage and still have a job.

  As they boarded the train to head to the location of their first assignment, Gwendolyn placed Reginald in her lap and leaned back in the seat. She was still exhausted from her trip from Boston and could use a couple of hours napping while they traveled. She had barely closed her eyes, before her new husband’s voice rudely interrupted her attempt at sleep.

  “It’s time for you to learn the most crucial part of being a Pinkerton agent,” Bradley said, pulling out a large folder and handing it over to her. “This is the case file for our first assignment. I expect you to memorize every detail by the time we reach Woody tonight.”

  She opened the massively thick folder and started leafing through the dozens of pages. “All of it?” she squeaked out, her eyes widening with disbelief. As she continued to flip through the pages, she wondered if she would be able to retain all of the information inside the file. She’d gotten decent grades in school due to her friend Nadine helping her, but she wouldn’t be what one would call studious. It had never come easy for her, and Gwendolyn would much rather attend a dinner party or a ball rather than read a book.

  “Yes, all of it. It’s paramount to know every detail of your case. Once you have that down, we will go over our cover story to make sure we both have it down solid. It won’t be too hard, considering we’re posing as a newly wedded couple. It’s not far from the truth, but you won’t always be that lucky. Sometimes, you have to create an identity that is completely different than your real life one.”

  Gwendolyn wasn’t sure what she thought about that. She didn’t have much practice at lying and wasn’t sure if she liked the idea of becoming an expert at it.

  “What are you going to do while I study this?” she asked, holding up the folder.

  “I’m going to take a nap.”

  Great, he got to do what she’d planned on. She bit her lip, trying not to show her irritation.

  Bradley shifted in his seat, adjusting his hat so it sat down over his face as he leaned back in his seat. From under the corner of his black coat, Gwendolyn noticed a shiny metal object.

  “I notice you have a gun. Don’t I need one?”

  Bradley pushed his hat back up on his head as he turned to face her. From the disapproving look in his brown eyes, she instantly knew the answer, but he decided to spell it out for her, anyway. “You won’t be using a gun any time soon. You need to earn my trust first.”

  “What does that mean?” she asked, angry over the negative implication behind his words. Reginald must have sensed he
r reaction, because he looked over and growled at Bradley again.

  “You really need to get your dog under control,” Bradley said, giving Reginald a dirty look. “And just so you know, real agents don’t take dogs on assignment. I can’t believe David made an exception for you. He really must want female agents working for him.”

  “Don’t try to deflect from my original question by making this about Reginald. What did you mean when you said I need to earn your trust?”

  “I mean, I don’t want to accidentally end up with a bullet in my back if you can’t handle yourself. Foster might think you’re up to the challenge of being an agent, but I have my doubts. Until you prove to me otherwise, you won’t be using a gun.”

  Gwendolyn leaned back in her seat in a huff, picking up the folder and trying to concentrate on it. She was going to prove to him she could do this, no matter what it took, and the first step was memorizing the case. By the time they arrived in Woody, she knew every crumb of information about the cattle rustling gang that was plaguing the northeast towns in Taylor County, Texas.

  “How did you do?” Bradley asked, stretching his arms above his head as he stood up.

  “I have it all memorized, just like you asked. If you don’t believe me, you can ask me anything.”

  He tilted his head to the side, as if debating whether he was going to do just that. “You haven’t given me a reason to distrust you yet; so for now, I’ll accept your word.”

  “What’s next?” she asked, handing him the folder just as the train conductor announced it was time to disembark.

  “Next, we check into the hotel and go over our identities and cover story, before we head around town and try to find out what we can by asking questions.”

  “I don’t understand why we can’t just use our real names.”

  “We never use our real names when working criminal cases. If anyone knew our real identities, they could hurt the people we love, or seek revenge on us later. It’s for everyone’s protection.”

  Gwendolyn nodded. “I never thought about that.”

  “Most people don’t. But it’s our job to see what no one else does and to anticipate what no one expects.” He stood up, then gestured for her to do the same. “Come on; grab your dog. It’s time to go.”

  As they checked in at the hotel, Gwendolyn had to mask her reaction when Bradley paid for their single room. They were husband and wife, but she’d never given any thought to their sleeping arrangements, or how she would be spending time alone with her new husband. The thought of it made her uncomfortable, but she didn’t want him to know that.

  They entered the room and placed their luggage down. “Let’s talk over there.” Once they were both seated in the chairs by the window, he continued. “We shouldn’t deviate too far from our own names. I usually try to keep the same initials to make it a little easier. I can go by Bernie and you can go by Gerty. Our last name can be Hicks.”

  “Those names are ridiculous,” Gwendolyn said with a laugh and a roll of her eyes. “You don’t look like a Bernie Hicks and I can’t imagine going by Gerty. Where did you even get those names?”

  “They were childhood friends of mine; but, if you can do better, then by all means, be my guest,” he said, swinging his arm over the edge of his chair with a smug look. “Give it your best shot.”

  She thought about it for a couple of seconds, then suggested, “Ben for you; it’s easy to remember and say, as is Gail for me. Hampton will do nicely for the last name.”

  He shrugged. “If you like those, I guess we can go with them. I honestly don’t see a difference.”

  She scrunched up her face, shaking her head. She really could care less about the names, but she wasn’t going to let him make all the decisions. It was important she had a say in how things progressed in their case, and this was a start. “You really have no clue about things like this, but, at least, now you have me to help.”

  “Speaking of help, we should go over cues we might need to use while we’re working the case.”

  “What cues?”

  “One of the other agents created a series of cues that he uses to communicate with his spouse when they’re on assignment. They worked so well, all of the agents learned them for future assignments. If you’re in trouble, you need to cross your arms over your chest. If you see someone you think is worth investigating further, touch your ear. And if you need me to help you get away from someone bothering you, you should rub your neck.”

  “Will you do the same if you need something from me?”

  “I won’t need anything from you.”

  “But I thought we were a team, I mean—”

  “Look, you need to get one thing straight; as the senior agent assigned to this case, I’m in charge and you need to do what I say, Gwendolyn.”

  “Gail, you should start calling me Gail,” she corrected, refusing to fight with him because he felt the need to assert his authority over her. Standing up, she moved towards the door. “We should get to work around town finding out what we can. I can’t leave Reginald too long or he’ll get into trouble while we’re gone.”

  As Gwendolyn turned to head out the door, the look of shock on Bradley’s face was priceless. He thought he was going to plow right over her, but that wasn’t going to happen. She was going to make sure he saw her as an equal, not someone he could push around.

  As Bradley followed his wife, he realized that he had underestimated how much work it was going to be to keep her out of trouble. It seemed a near-impossible task, considering how spoiled and unaware of the realities of their job she really was. When they were going over their new aliases, she acted as if the way the names sounded were more important than the cues designed to keep her safe. Yet, part of him wondered if she was purposely being obtuse to irritate him. She was like a riddle he couldn’t figure out.

  Bradley decided that focusing on the assignment was a far better use of his time than trying to decipher Gwendolyn’s behavior. After separating to maximize their time, his first stop was the general store; the heart and soul of small towns in the West. There was a good chance he might pick up useful information by asking the right questions there.

  He entered the store, and made his way around the large room, looking at various items. He picked up a couple of apples, some dried meat, and a notepad, before making his way over to the owner, who was behind the counter near the register.

  “I’d like to purchase these,” he said, placing the items on the counter, knowing a purchase would put the owner in a good mood and perhaps loosen his lips.

  “Right away, sir,” he said, moving up to enter the items in the register. “You’re new to town, aren’t you?”

  Bradley nodded. “Just arrived with my wife. I’m looking for a job. Are there any openings around here?”

  “What type of employment?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve worked as a hired hand on a few ranches back East. I wouldn’t be opposed to doing the same around here.”

  “Well, there’s a few cattle ranches nearby. Not sure if any are looking for help, but a lot of the workers end up down at the Horseshoe Saloon by the end of the day. You could ask around there.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion,” Bradley said, handing over the money for the items. “I do wonder how safe it is, considering I’ve heard there’s been a fair amount of cattle rustling around here lately.”

  “That’s true, but the sheriff is doing his best to get it under control, despite no one being able to figure out much about the new gang.”

  “Well, I hope that he does. I appreciate your help. Good day to you, sir.”

  “Same to you.”

  On his way to the saloon, Bradley stopped off at the bank and the post office. No one had information about the cattle rustling or any ranches that were hiring in the area. He was beginning to think that Woody was going to be a waste of time.

  At the end of the main street, he reached the saloon and entered the establishment. It was already filled with several
patrons, along with a barkeep, two saloon girls, and a card dealer. All of them glanced up when he entered, but when none of them recognized him, they went back to whatever they were doing.

  Bradley sidled up to the bar and placed a coin on the wooden counter. “Whiskey, neat.”

  The barkeep poured the drink, then slid it across to him. “You’re new around here.”

  “Just got into town with my wife.”

  “What brings you to these parts?”

  “I’m looking for work. Do you know if there are any ranches hiring around here?”

  The barkeep shrugged. “Not that I know of, but Giles over there would know better than anyone. He’s the foreman for the Brookside Ranch to the east of town.”

  “Thanks for the information,” Bradley said, placing another coin on the bar before getting up to head over to the card table where Giles was playing cards. He sat in the empty chair next to the other man.

  “This isn’t a spectator game. If you’re going to sit at the table, you better cough up some money,” Giles said gruffly, as he gave Bradley a side-glance.

  Figuring if he wanted answers, he should do what the other man suggested, he pulled out some money and placed it on the table. “I better not lose it all, or the wife will have my head. That’s about all we have left after traveling out here.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have sat down, then,” Giles stated bluntly. “We aren’t going to take it easy on you because you’re foolish with your money.”

  “It wouldn’t be a problem if I had a job,” Bradley explained, as he put down two cards and asked for two more, “but I haven’t had much luck getting one. Your ranch wouldn’t be needing workers, by chance?”