by C. A. Asbrey
“Howdy, boys. What’s the hellion done now? Has she hurt you, Nat?” It was Pearl, and she showed no surprise about her being here.
Nat groaned as he stumbled from inside the cabin to the porch and glared at Abigail. A trail of blood etched its escape from his injured scalp across his temple and his hands formed into fists. The mask of charm slipped and she stared into the cold, hard eyes of one of the most intimidating men she had ever encountered.
He had hidden this side of himself behind the twinkling eyes and dimpled smile full of positivity, but she should have known better. How could anyone control a gang of outlaws without a hard core? She had walked straight into this thinking she had escaped a confrontation with Jake. She would now give anything to face him rather than the cold fury of the man who now glared at her with revenge on his mind. Nat appeared to grow in stature, his whole demeanor changing before her eyes.
“What the hell do you think you’re playing at?” Nat growled.
Abigail’s stomach turned over and her accent strengthened. She lapsed into the unguarded Gaelic syntax of her mother tongue; a sign of stress not lost on Nat as she stuttered and stammered her reply. “You weren’t letting me go—what did you expect at all?”
“What do I expect you to do? I expect you to do as you’re told, woman!”
Abigail released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding before she shouted back. “For how long? You can’t keep me here. I swear. I’ll keep trying. Either let me go or kill me.”
“Don’t tempt me,” muttered Jake.
She swung around. “The law coming after you is an occupational hazard, just as fighting back is for me. We all know the deal. This—” she gestured around the cabin to the bed sheets discarded on the floor, “whatever it is; is not the way, and you know it.”
Nat ignored her and strolled passed her with a stony face. He strode down the porch steps and stopped at the horse trough, dipping his head in the water before throwing it back, scattering a halo of drips everywhere as he washed the fog from his mind.
“Why’d you come back?” he asked Jake.
“I bumped into Pearl. She needs help. Two girls have gone missing from her place.”
“They’ve been with me years, Nat. Real good girls, rode out and never came back. They’d never do that. They left everything, money, clothes; the lot. The sheriff ain’t interested. He says workin’ girls go missing all the time. Something’s happened to them, and I have to find out what. I have to help them.”
He nodded as he rubbed his concerned face. “Where’d they go?”
“Bessie’s pa died and she went for a physic reading out at the Schmidt’s place. The girl there does them. That’s the last anyone saw of them. No sign of the horses, the wagon, nothin’. Two women in summer dresses don’t just take off cross country, Nat. They ain’t dressed for it.”
“Schmidts?” He turned toward Abigail and fixed her with a chilling glare. “Jake, tie her up. I ain’t finished with her yet. Pearl, come with me. We need to talk.”
♦◊♦
The room had an atmosphere of heightened anxiety and Pearl’s alabaster skin had touches of pink fighting through the heavy powder, the nearest she ever got to being flushed. Her long-time employees felt a loyalty and indebtedness to her, knowing the alternatives were a big step down.
Both men knew neither of the girls would have run off. There was nowhere for them to go but down, and Jake and Nat had genuine concerned for their welfare.
“Dora and Bessie have gone missing.”
Nat flashed a glance at Jake. “Dora? The blonde one? You liked her didn’t you, Jake? She’s a young widow.”
“Sure is. Lost her husband at twenty-three. She’s got a young boy to support. She wouldn’t just leave him, Nat. He’s her whole world.”
Nat sat. “Tell me what you know, Pearl. Of course, the sheriff isn’t interested in anything other than collecting bribes or rewards. What do you think happened?”
“It’s bad, I just know it is. They’d have told me if they were leaving. Bessie’s been with me for years, and Dora’s a real sweet girl.”
“Where is this place?” Jake demanded.
“About ten miles out east, on the way to Twin Rivers.”
Nat sat at the table with pensive eyes drinking everything in. “Who are these people? What do they do there? The name sounds similar to one who’s been bothering me recently.”
“They’re German farmers, they’ve lived around here nigh on fifteen years or so. Ma and Pa hardly speak any English, but they take in boarders, usually people who can’t get to town before sundown ’cause it’s just too far. The place is pretty basic. Their son, Kurt, is a bit simple but friendly enough, the daughter, Anna, is real sweet. She’s early twenties and does séances.”
“Do you want me to ride out and search for them?”
“I can’t ask you to do that, Jake. It’s a long way past town. You wouldn’t get there until nightfall.”
Jake folded his arms. “I’m going, Pearl. Is there anything else? Has anyone been leanin’ on you?”
“No, the mayor leaves me alone. When the boys can’t afford the high end of the market, they end up in his places, so he’s happy enough. You want any of my boys to ride with you?”
Jake shook his head. “No, Pearl. I’ll work alone. I’ll leave now.”
Nat’s eyes filled with regret. “I’m real sorry, Pearl. We’d both go, but we got her to look after.”
He tilted his head toward the barn where Abigail had been left bound hand and foot by Jake. Pearl wrinkled her brows in query, more questioning than concerned. “What’s goin’ on, here? I ain’t never seen you boys do anythin’ like this.”
“We ain’t never seen anythin’ like this either, Pearl,” snorted Jake. “She claims to be a Pinkerton. Have you ever heard the like? But we need to know who she’s really involved with; the real name of the man settin’ us up.”
“There are men all over the county contacting people connected to us to ask them questions,” Nat added. “Some of them are direct, others more sneaky. There’s something going on, and she knows about it. I’ll put money on her knowing that Smitty who paid the gang to pose as us.”
“Won’t talk, huh?”
“Nope. As soon as she does, she’s outta here.”
A grin spread over her face. “What you gonna do if she don’t talk?”
Jake ran a hand through his tousled hair and shook his head. “I don’t know, Pearl. Just let her go, after givin’ her a fright about gettin’ involved with outlaws. I’ve got a theory it’s a lover of hers who’s put her up to this. She seems well-educated and almost as smart as Nat, but when it comes to choosin’ men she’s as dumb as a box of hair.”
“What if she’s tellin’ the truth?”
Nat hooked her with a questioning glint. “You can’t believe she’s a Pinkerton. A woman?”
“Why not? Some of the most successful spies durin’ the war were women. We’re gettin’ everywhere now—pharmacists, doctors, nurses—especially in the West where the rules are more ‘flexible’, shall we say? Folks are just grateful to have someone around with a bit of learnin’. She could be tellin’ the truth.”
The men exchanged a look before they dismissed the idea.
“Nah. She’s got a boyfriend, and he’s more interested in us than what’s healthy,” retorted Jake.
“Maybe her boyfriend is a Pinkerton?” Pearl suggested.
“That’s more likely,” Nat agreed, “and that’s the type of information I need to get out of her. She says if we contact the agency they’ll confirm who she is, but all it tells me is she has a plant at the other end. A corrupt lawman working with someone who’ll let innocent people get murdered to bring us in.”
“One question, boys. If she were in on it with the Pattersons, why was she locked away and left to die? It isn’t somethin’ you do to your own side.”
Nat nodded. “I’ve thought about that. It could be they had her to make sure Smi
tty paid? There are only two options as far as I can see. She either has deep links to the man who set us up, or she is who she says she is.”
Jake strode over to the table and picked up his hat. “I’ll get it outta her when I get back. She’s scared of me. I can see it in her eyes. She’s gutsy, but it’s there, and that’s how we’ll crack her. You saw the state of her when we brought her here, Pearl. You even cleaned her. What a mess. She couldn’t travel before now anyway, so we went gentle.”
“It seems like she changed the rules. Gentle’s over.” Nat’s feral eyes glittered across the table at Pearl as he held a cold compress to his scalp. “We’ll get rid of her soon, but I want to know everything she does first.”
♦◊♦
Jake rode out into the gathering dusk. He covered the ground right up to the Schmidt’s place with no sign of the wagon the girls had ridden out in. His search of the Schmidt’s outbuildings was the best he could manage in the bad light. He could find no sign of the women or their transport.
Peeking in through the window, he saw the family sitting round a large table in a meager, unkempt shelter. Ma, Pa, a lad with a deformed mouth, and pretty redhead gathered around the table deep in conversation, but there was still no sign of the women. It was time to ask some questions.
He hammered on the door, habit ensuring he didn’t stand in front of it, but off to the side.
He heard a clamor of unintelligible voices inside before a male voice called out. “Ja?”
“Sir, I’ve come from Bannen. Two ladies came here today. They didn’t come home. Open the door.”
He heard scrabbling and more talking before the door opened a crack and a grizzled face appeared.
“Sir, I’m coming in. I need to speak to you about the women.”
The door opened, throwing a trapezoid of light on to the ground. “My folks don’t speak much English, sir. Can I help you? My name is Anna Schmidt.”
Jake examined at the petite girl. She was pretty and well-dressed, but that in itself seemed alien in the disarray and clutter of the squalid cabin. The room was large but was divided into two by a large stained curtain which hung behind the table. Her family gathered behind her, an eclectic mix of incongruous shapes and sizes.
“Ma’am, Pearl Dubois sent me. Two ladies came here for a reading today. Nobody's seen them since.”
“Yes. They left hours ago. Mister—?”
“Black. How long ago?”
He paused while Anna explained his questions to her folks in German and listened to the answers.
“About two o’clock I think.” Anna paused. “This is terrible. Those poor people. What do you think has happened to them?”
“That’s what I’m hoping to find out, ma’am. You folks mind if I have a look around?”
Without waiting for them to agree he walked to the back of the room and swept back the large sheet acting as a divider. He peeped behind it but could see nothing but a few hammers, saws and other tools leaned against the wall.
“Any other rooms?”
The old man and woman garbled something to the girl. “Yes, upstairs. Mama apologizes for the mess. We weren’t expecting anyone.”
Jake followed the old man up the rickety wooden stairs and walked through each of the three shabby rooms in turn. He glanced at the girl, wondering where she fitted in the hovel he saw unfolding before him.
“Someone told me you take in boarders. Where do you put them?”
“They have Kurt’s room. He’ll either sleep in the barn or in front of the stove, if it’s winter. Would you like to stay Mr. Black? It’s getting late to ride back to town.”
He scanned the bleak cabin, thinking most of the hideouts he had used were more homey.
“No, thanks, ma’am. I’ll get back to town. I think Miss Dubois will be worried. She’ll want to know if I’ve found anything. If you don’t mind, I’ll take a look around the barns before I go. Do you have a light I can borrow?”
♦◊♦
He stopped about a mile away and left the road, taking his horse behind the trees. Creeping back he lay on the ground near the road and waited. It took about fifteen minutes before Jake could hear the clear rattle of the bridle and the blowing from his stalker’s mount. The silvered light from the moon was bright enough for him to see the face of the German boy with the twisted mouth as he passed by on the road to Bannen.
Was he following him, or was it just a coincidence?
Chapter Seven
Abigail twisted around in the straw at the sound of the barn door opening. Nat Quinn stood over her, his stony face betraying his dark mood. She felt the rope around her ankles being sliced through before he leaned over and grabbed her good arm to drag her to her feet.
“What is it with you men locking women in barns?” It was a half-hearted attempt at lightness, but the hostility in his silent glare made her regret it in an instant.
He pulled her out into open air and marched her across to the cabin, as she stumbled and protested all the way. “Slow down. My legs aren’t as long as yours. There are stones. I don’t have any shoes on.” She missed her footing on the porch steps, stubbing a toe. “Ow!”
He yanked her through the door and pushed her into a chair, taking a seat across the table. Abigail’s heart pounded in her chest as she twisted her still bound hands behind her back. The mood had turned very dark, indeed.
“I guess things have changed. We’re quite clearly keeping you here against your will, now.” He leaned back on his chair, swinging on the two back legs as he watched her bite her bottom lip. “We’d all better put our cards on the table if we want you out of here.”
“That would be nice.” She shrugged her unkempt hair from her face as a corkscrew curl covered in straw kept tumbling in front of her right eye.
“Tell me the truth, and no more games. I’m losing patience with you. Why were you following the Pattersons? Who do you know and what were you told to find out?”
“I’ve told you until I’m blue in the face. I was investigating them, just as I was investigating you. I work for Alan Pinkerton.”
He stood and walked over to her, holding eye contact all the way before he leaned over and placed his face inches from hers. “Are you still gonna keep that up?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Who is he?”
She jumped as he yelled straight into her face, his hot breath burning into her cheek.
She garnered her fire and yelled right back. “Who?”
“The man behind this. What does he want with us? What did he send you to find out?”
“Alan Pinkerton. He wants you in jail.” She turned to face him as she barked her reply, “And so do I.”
“Be very careful, Abigail. My whole life hangs in the balance if I’m caught, not to mention my uncle’s. I’m not above doing what it takes to avoid that. This is not a game.”
“Your uncle?” Her brow crinkled. “Jake Conroy is your uncle? That makes sense, family loyalty, I suppose. Lot of criminal gangs consist of extended families. I could see he was older, but he didn’t seem old enough to be your uncle.”
“You didn’t know?”
She shook her head. “Why would I? I’ve read your criminal records, Mr. Quinn, and you were not always so loyal. You two split for a few years, didn’t you? Why was that?”
“I’ll ask the questions here.”
“You’ll get the same answers as you’ve already been given.”
“What’s the name of the man who sent you here? Who is Smitty?”
“Alan Pinkerton sent me. I’d never heard of Smitty until you brought him up.” She stared straight ahead. “You can ask the Chicago office and they will confirm I’m employed there. That is all I’m prepared to tell you.”
“What’s Smitty’s real name?”
“I don’t know.”
He paused, deep in thought. “What if I play your game and accept you’re a Pinkerton? What’s the name of the man you report to and where is he staying?”
>
“I work alone. I report to Alan Pinkerton, but Archibald Robertson at the Denver office is aware of where I am.”
“You expect me to believe they’ll send a woman into Bannen without a man to back her up? Do you think I’m stupid? Who is he?”
“I’ve told you the truth.”
“One last chance, Abigail. I need the names and whereabouts of the men you are giving information to and who’s your informer.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes.
“So, you want to pretend you’re a Pinkerton? As a female?” His eyes darkened. “I’ve questioned one before, although he didn’t know who I was. They’re trained real well on being both sides of interrogations. You don’t want to do this. Not as a woman. He had a real hard time. You’ll have it even harder.”
She sat staring ahead once more, her face impassive and stony.
“You’ve nothing to say?”
Her eyes flashed. “Beating the hell out of me won’t change anything but my view of you.”
Nat reached out and entwined a hard fist in her hair and dragged her backward until the chair balanced on the back legs. He brought his face close to hers, his hot breath burning into her cheek. “Think harder, lady. This isn’t a game. Who are you?”
Abigail felt the dragging pain at the back of her head as shards of pain lanced across her scalp. He held her, balanced between his painful grip and a clattering fall to the floor but her stubborn nature wouldn’t let her acquiesce.
“Others will come after you, no matter what you do to me.” She darted her eyes to meet his, unable to move her pinioned head. “I won’t be the last.”
“More pretend Pinkertons? As long as they look as good as you I’m fine with that, honey.” His eyes dark glittered. “But maybe you’ve got another motive?”
“Such as what?”
Intense brown eyes seared into hers. “Perhaps you like outlaws. Some women are attracted to dangerous men,” he continued, whispering in her ear as he nibbled on her ear lobe. “Is this dangerous enough for you, or do you like pain? I can arrange it, real soon.”