An Agent for Alexina
Page 5
“We intend to,” Dawson stated as he walked over to the window and attempted to open it. “Is this window locked?”
“It is,” the mayor confirmed. “After Miss Jolley disappeared, we nailed the windows shut to prevent intruders from slipping in undetected.”
“Smart,” Alexina murmured.
“Sadly, it didn’t keep Miss Price from being abducted.” Tucking his thumbs into his brown vest pockets, Mayor Sunders said, “If you’ll excuse me, I have other things that I must attend to. School starts promptly at nine tomorrow morning.”
Dawson walked the mayor to the door. “We’ll keep you posted on what we discover.”
“I’d appreciate that. The town is still praying that Miss Jolley and Miss Price will be found alive,” Mayor Sunders expressed, extending two keys to him before exiting the cottage.
Once the door was shut, Dawson turned to face her. “All right, lead agent, what’s the next step.”
“You disappoint me, husband,” she joked. “The next step is to catch whoever is abducting the schoolteachers.”
He chuckled. “Silly me. I thought that would be step three or four, at least.”
“We only have about an hour of daylight left. I propose we search around the exterior of the cottage and see if anything turns up.”
“Then, you need to make my dinner, woman,” Dawson ordered as he walked over to the brick fireplace.
“Do you not know how to cook, agent?” she challenged, placing a hand on her hip.
Dawson let out an exasperated sigh. “What’s the point of having a wife if she doesn’t cook for you?”
“We are not truly married,” she reminded him.
He wiped a hand over his chin. “Are you saying that I will not be receiving any benefits of the marital bed?”
Alexina’s jaw dropped, and she found herself speechless. Finally, she found her voice again.
“That’s exactly what I am saying,” she shouted. “If you touch me, I will kill you, agent.” She stormed across the room.
“You’re no fun, wife,” Dawson replied as he stayed rooted to his spot.
Alexina opened the door and slammed it behind her. What an insufferable man! She knew he was goading her, but she couldn’t seem to control her temper when he was around. Marital bed! That would never, ever happen with Dawson Wayne. Ever.
Watching Alexina depart in a huff, Dawson chuckled under his breath. Why did he feel the need to tease her? He was beginning to think it was his new favorite pastime.
After a few moments, he opened the door. Where has my wife run off to, he wondered, as his eyes scanned the front of the cottage. A noise came from the side of the house, so he headed in that direction. Once he turned the corner, he saw Alexina kneeling under a window.
“There are traces of boot prints here,” she said, pointing at the dirt directly underneath the window. “I highly doubt that these were made by a student.”
Dawson stepped closer and crouched down next to her. He also saw the unmistakable signs of boots, but they were only partial prints. He glanced up at the window. “So, whoever the abductor was, he most likely watched Miss Jolley and Miss Price from this window.”
“Let’s check around the other windows,” Alexina suggested, rising.
They walked to the rear of the house to the small bedroom window. Dawson again crouched low, but this time he saw a full boot print in the dirt. “It appears that the abductor spent more time at this location.”
Alexina turned her head toward a large section of cottonwood trees about forty yards away from the cottage. “Most likely, that’s where the abductor would have waited until it was safe to approach the cottage.”
Dawson stood and dusted his hands off on his trousers. “That’s the only logical place to hide.” His gaze scanned over the short prairie grass. “He must have been watching the teachers at night, because he would have been exposed during the day.”
“We’re operating under the assumption that there was only one abductor, but what if there were two?”
“Two?” he questioned. “For what purpose?”
She turned back to look at him. “Women are scarce in these parts. What if two men just decided to take matters into their own hands and abduct their brides?”
“It’s possible. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone has resorted to those underhanded tactics to obtain a bride in the West,” he remarked. “If that’s the case, our trap won’t work. We’re hoping the abductor will want to abduct you, too.”
“I hope we aren’t dealing with a murderer who targets women,” Alexina said.
Dawson ran a hand through his hair. “A single woman living on the edge of town would be an easy target for any man.”
“Good point,” she muttered as she started walking toward the trees.
He quickly caught up to her and matched her stride.
“I am not sure what good searching this section of trees would do,” he remarked.
“A Pinkerton agent is always thorough,” she maintained, not slowing her stride.
“True, but the sun has started setting, and we still need to figure out what we’re having for supper.”
“Your main concern right now is food?” she asked, glancing over at him.
“Yes, I am starving,” he admitted, seeing no reason to deny it.
“Then, turn back around and start preparing something to eat.”
He frowned. “I can’t leave you alone. Who would protect you if the need arose?”
Stopping at the edge of the cluster of trees, Alexina turned to face him with an annoyed expression on her face. “I don’t need your protection. I’ve been doing just fine without you watching over me these past ten years.”
“Regardless, Mr. Gordon requested that I protect you…” He stopped speaking when Alexina stepped into the shadowy cover of the trees, completely ignoring him.
Dawson tossed up his hands. He had little choice but to follow her. What was she hoping to find in these trees? He watched as she occasionally paused and crouch down, but she never seemed to find what she was looking for. Finally, she stopped at a tree and ran her fingers down the length of the bark.
“Dawson,” she said, calling him over. “Look what I found.”
He crouched down next to her and looked at the worn bark. He turned to look at her expectantly. “I don’t see anything.”
She ran her fingers over two distinctive grooves in the bark. “Someone was tied to this tree for a short time.”
He gave her a look of disbelief, and she continued, “Look at these marks. It appears that the rope was moving across the bark as if someone was fighting against their restraints.”
“You can’t possibly tell that from the worn lines in the bark. Those could be from anything,” he argued.
“Name something it could be from, then,” she challenged.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Someone tied a dog to this tree.”
“A dog?” she huffed. “That explanation is ridiculous.”
“No more than yours,” he declared.
Suddenly, Alexina’s face grew solemn as her gaze shifted to over his shoulder. “I need you to stop talking, Dawson,” she said in a low voice.
“Why?” he scoffed. “Is my explanation not good enough for a Pinkerton agent?”
“Just be quiet,” she hissed, her hand slowly moving toward the pocket of her dress.
Dawson rose from his crouched position. “I may not be the lead agent…” His words stopped when Alexina whipped a pistol out of her dress and discharged it directly at him. He could feel the bullet whizzing past his face, followed by a loud thud behind him.
He spun around and saw a mountain lion sprawled out on the ground, dead. He stood, stunned, for a moment before he turned back to face her.
“Why didn’t you just say, ‘There is a mountain lion behind you’?”
“I didn’t want to alarm you,” she calmly replied as she tucked her pistol back into the folds of her gown.
Dawson tossed his hands up in the air. “You could have shot me!”
“That was a risk I was willing to take.” She smiled smugly.
His eyes shifted back toward the mountain lion. He glanced up at a large branch that the mountain lion had most likely perched on, waiting to pounce on him.
“I believe the correct response should be ‘thank you’,” Alexina said.
“Thank you?” he exclaimed. “That was a lucky shot. If your aim had been off by only an inch…”
Alexina cut him off. “I don’t miss.” Her words were spoken with such conviction that he knew she was telling the truth.
“Thank you for saving my life,” he muttered, swallowing his pride.
“You’re welcome. That’s what partners do,” she responded, smiling.
He groaned. “You’re going to hold this over my head, aren’t you?”
“Heavens, no,” she replied, but a mischievous glint came into her eye before she started walking back toward the cottage.
Turning back toward the mountain lion, Dawson saw that her bullet had hit the animal directly between the eyes. That was one heck of a shot, he had to admit to himself. His partner was a formidable woman. She hadn’t panicked when she saw the mountain lion, but she had instead grown determined.
After seeing what a great shot she was, a realization came to him. Perhaps, he shouldn’t tease her so much.
5
Alexina opened her eyes as the sun shone brightly through her small window. She blinked lazily, debating about rolling over and going back to sleep. No, she couldn’t do that. She needed to wake up and prepare for the day.
Throwing off the covers, she quickly changed into a calico dress with a white lace collar. She headed into the main area and noticed that Dawson was still sleeping on the ground near the sofa. She quickly made a fire in the hearth and left the cottage to use the privy.
As she exited the crude outhouse, Alexina’s eyes scanned over the prairie grass blowing gracefully in the wind. The high plains were truly a spectacular place to live, despite having mountain lions in the trees. She laughed at the memory of Dawson’s pale face when she’d discharged her pistol. Even though he denied it, she knew he thought for a brief second that she’d been shooting at him.
Noticing her bedroom window, she decided to see if anyone had made a visit to the cottage last night. She headed toward the window, and her steps faltered in disbelief. There were two distinct boot prints in the dirt just under her window. Someone had watched her sleep last night! Never again, she muttered to herself.
“Howdy, ma’am,” a man’s deep voice said from the direction of the school.
Turning her head, she saw a tall, lean man wearing a brown vest with matching trousers, approaching her. He was a relatively attractive man with a round face and blond hair. What was odd, though, was that he was holding a basket at his side.
Being mindful of the role she was supposed to play, Alexina brought a smile to her face. “Morning, sir.”
“Aren’t you a beautiful sight for sore eyes?” The man stopped in front of her, his eyes glistening with approval. “My name is Gerald Stanbury, and I own the general store in town.”
She tilted her head graciously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stanbury. I am…”
“Miss Alexina Wayne,” he answered for her. “I’m also on the school board.”
“In that case, I appreciate the job,” she replied, ignoring Mr. Stanbury’s blatant perusal down the length of her.
Mr. Stanbury smiled flirtatiously. “When Mayor Sunders informed the school board that he’d hired a brother and sister as interim teachers, I must admit that I was taken aback by the idea. But now that I see you in person, I am so glad that we hired you,” he hesitated, “and your brother, of course.”
“That’s most kind of you to say, Mr. Stanbury. However, I must get inside to prepare my brother some breakfast before school begins,” she said, moving to brush past him.
“Ah, that’s why I came to call.” He held up the basket. “I brought you some fresh eggs.”
She accepted the proffered basket with a smile. “That is very kind of you. Thank you.”
Mr. Stanbury grew serious, and she could tell that he was nervous. He was blinking very fast.
“Um…” He cleared his throat. “I would be honored if you would join me for supper tonight.”
“I appreciate the offer, but much has to be done at the cottage.”
“Then tomorrow perhaps?” he suggested, not deterred by her rejection.
This man is a bit too eager, she thought. Could he be the suspect they were looking for? Possibly. But he seemed harmless, if not clueless.
She decided to take pity on him. “If you’re not opposed, you could join me on the porch tonight for dessert. It won’t be anything fancy, mind you.”
His face broke out into a relieved smile. “I would like that very much.” He started to take a step closer to her but stopped when the front door of the cottage slammed open.
Dawson stood in the doorway, dressed in only his shirt and trousers, holding a revolver in his hand. “May I help you?” he growled at Mr. Stanbury.
“I was just bringing by some eggs for your breakfast,” Mr. Stanbury said, his words rushed.
Turning toward Dawson, Alexina provided the introductions. “Dawson, this is Mr. Stanbury. He owns the general store.”
“Do you normally make house calls at such an early hour, Mr. Stanbury?” Dawson challenged.
Alexina pursed her lips, feigning embarrassment of Dawson’s rude behavior. “Brother, you’re being rude to our guest.”
“Come inside and make my breakfast, Alexina,” he ordered, stepping further into the cottage and leaving the door open.
“My brother is a bit overprotective,” she said ruefully, giving Mr. Stanbury an apologetic smile. “He doesn’t like me talking to men.”
“Will he object when I come to call this evening?” Mr. Stanbury asked.
She shook her head. “Not at all, assuming you act like a gentleman.”
“I am nothing but,” he assured her, but she thought his words sounded disingenuous.
Alexina held up the basket. “Thank you again for the eggs, Mr. Stanbury.”
“If you’d prefer, you’re welcome to call me Gerald.”
My, this man is bold, she thought.
“I appreciate that, but I’m afraid I cannot become so familiar with you as to call you by your given name.” She glanced toward the cottage and lowered her voice. “My brother would not approve of that.”
“I understand, but it will be our little secret, Alexina.” He winked.
Attempting to keep her expression cordial, she brushed past him toward the cottage.
“Until this evening, Miss Wayne,” Mr. Stanbury called out to her retreating figure.
Once she entered the cottage, she closed the door, turned, and leaned back against it. She shuddered at the thought of Mr. Stanbury and his bold actions. No wonder she wasn’t interested in courting. Men couldn’t seem to take a hint.
“Gerald seems to really like you,” Dawson joked, moving away from the window.
“He is an audacious man!” she declared, pushing away from the door. She placed the basket on the table. “Who makes a house call at this time of day?”
Dawson walked into the kitchen and pulled out a chair from the table. “Apparently, he was bringing you breakfast.”
“Isn’t that odd?” she questioned as she started searching for a bowl. “I’ve never had a man bring me eggs before.”
“Women are scarce in these parts. He probably wanted to ensure that you know how to cook basic items, such as eggs.” She could hear the smile in Dawson’s voice.
Bringing the bowl to the table, she was pleased when Dawson started helping her crack the eggs.
“I found fresh boot prints under my window this morning,” she revealed.
Dawson stilled, holding a dripping eggshell. “Our suspect was watching you sleep?”
/> “Apparently.”
“Would you like me to sleep in the room with you?”
She shook her head. “That’s a kind offer, but I sleep with a pistol under my pillow.”
“I could always sleep on the porch.”
“No, this is what we wanted, remember?” she reminded him. “We want the suspect to become interested in me and hopefully attempt to abduct me.”
“I know,” Dawson said, discarding the shells to the side, “but I don’t like knowing you’re in danger.”
She lifted her brow. “I’m a Pinkerton agent. Trust me when I say that I’ve been in far worse situations than this.”
“Like what?”
“Well,” she replied, reaching for a fork, “I worked as a laundress for the Confederate Army for the first few years I was an agent. Since the war, I’ve caught embezzlers, murderers, and bank robbers.”
“What was it like working for the Confederate Army?”
She shrugged. “It was backbreaking work. I cleaned the officers’ clothes outside their tents, and I listened for any pertinent information about upcoming battles or locations of troops.” She held up her left hand. “It also left my hands slightly scarred from the long hours I spent scrubbing those clothes.”
“I hadn’t noticed before.”
“That’s because I always try to wear gloves to hide them,” she explained, reaching for a pan.
Dawson glanced over at the door. “Do you think Stanbury is our suspect?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted honestly. “Being overbearing is a far cry from abducting women.”
“Do you think those women are still alive?”
She considered his words for a moment before she forlornly shook her head. “No, I do not believe they are.”
“Me either,” he remarked sadly.
“If Miss Jolley was still alive, she would have been living with her abductors for over a month. That seems rather unlikely.”
“I need to use the privy before breakfast,” Dawson declared, shoving back his chair. He took a step closer to her. “Will you be all right without me?” he asked in a serious tone.