An Agent for Amey

by Laura Beers

  Archie huffed. “That was a poor decision on his part.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  Putting the paper into the file, Archie closed it and placed it at the edge of his desk. He didn’t speak as he reached for another file and opened it up, pulling out a piece of paper.

  “I have another case for you.”

  Lincoln sat down in front of the desk. “What is it this time?”

  “Jacob Tiner’s wife was found dead under mysterious circumstances,” Archie said, reading from the paper, “and he’s hired us to find her killer.”

  “Can you define ‘mysterious circumstances’?”

  “Her body was found in the woods near their home, and she’d been strangled.”

  Lincoln attempted to hide his displeasure as he said, “Most likely, Mr. Tiner killed his wife and is hiring us to try to repair his good name.”

  “I don’t believe that’s true,” Archie replied. “I’ve met Mr. Tiner before, and he doesn’t seem like a murderer.”

  “Impressions can be wrong.”

  “True, but I’m generally a good judge of character.”

  Lincoln shifted in his chair. “This case sounds straightforward enough. Where does Mr. Tiner live?”

  “In the town of Longworth, Colorado,” Archie said. “He owns a large cattle ranch.”

  “That’s good news.” He rose. “That’s only a few hours away by train.”

  Archie put his hand up. “Hold on. There’s something else that I wish to discuss with you.”

  Lincoln slowly returned to his seat. “About what?”

  With hesitation in his voice, Archie said, “I’ve decided to assign a partner to help you work this case.”

  “Absolutely not!” Lincoln exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. “I work alone.”

  “True, but I’m in a bind here.”

  “In what way?” he asked, his anger slightly dissipating.

  Archie leaned back in his chair and sighed. “The Chicago office is transferring an agent here, and I need someone to ensure she is properly trained.”

  “She?” he asked, running a hand through his dark brown hair. “I don’t want to get saddled with a wife like the other agents have had to do.”

  “Her name is Miss Amey Barney, and she is a highly competent agent. At least that’s what Mr. Hopkins told me,” Archie explained, ignoring his last comment. “She’s solved many cases and is one of the top women in the Female Detective Bureau.”

  “Then why the need for a trainer?”

  Archie sighed. “According to the wire Mr. Hopkins sent, she’s rather obsessed with Billy Joe Campbell.”

  “The criminal?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that one. She spends all her free time trying to bring him to justice.”

  “Is that so bad?”

  “It is when it starts to consume a person,” Archie pressed.

  Lincoln turned his gaze toward the window, knowing he didn’t have much of a choice in the matter. “Would I be required to marry her?”

  “Yes, but you can seek an annulment after the case has been completed, and you have turned in your report,” Archie replied. “I just need to know if her obsession has gotten in the way of her doing her job.”

  Lincoln frowned. “You want me to spy on my partner.”

  “I wouldn’t call it spying, per se.”

  “What would you call it?”

  Archie sat forward in his seat. “I don’t know, but you can figure that out yourself. After all, you’ll be the lead agent on this case.”

  “Fine.”

  Archie let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Lincoln. I thought you would put up a much bigger fight than you did.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve worked with incompetent soldiers before in the war,” he replied. “I have no doubt that I’ll be able to work with Miss Barney.”

  It was Archie’s turn to frown. “Miss Barney is not incompetent,” he said. “She’s solved more cases than a lot of the men in the Chicago office.”

  “But she’s still a woman,” Lincoln pointed out.

  Archie closed the file in front of him, and the disapproval was evident on his features. “Some of my best agents are women, Agent Hoyt,” he chided.

  Lincoln put his hands up in front of him. “My apologies, I meant no disrespect,” he said. “I have never partnered with a woman before.”

  “Then you’re in for a surprise,” Archie remarked in an amused tone. “Your partner should be arriving any minute.”

  Amey Barney stood in front of the Pinkerton Detective Agency’s Denver office. She’d been standing outside of the door for what felt like hours but was probably only moments. For some unknown reason, she felt only dread at the thought of working out of the Denver office.

  She’d left her hometown of Tucson to seek adventure, and she’d succeeded. She’d traveled all over the country as a Pinkerton agent, and now she just needed to consider this a new adventure.

  She shifted the carpetbag in her hand as she reached to knock on the door. After a long moment, the door opened, and a pretty, red-headed woman stared back at her.

  “May I help you?”

  Amey forced a smile on her face and hoped it was cordial enough. “My name is Amey Barney, and I believe Mr. Gordon is expecting me.”

  “Yes, of course,” the woman responded with a smile, opening the door wide. “Please come in, Miss Barney.”

  “Thank you,” Amey replied as she stepped into the entry hall.

  The woman closed the door behind her. “Allow me to introduce myself,” she started, “my name is Mrs. Marianne Gordon.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Gordon.”

  “You must call me Marianne.”

  “Then you must call me Amey.”

  “I’d like that very much.” Marianne glanced down at her carpetbag. “Please say that’s not all of your luggage.”

  Amey shook her head. “I left my trunk at the station, along with my horse, Jasper.”

  “I’ll send someone to retrieve your trunk and your horse,” Marianne remarked as she spun around and started walking down the hallway. “Follow me. I’ll show you to Archie’s office.”

  Stopping at a closed door, Marianne knocked before she opened it.

  A man’s exasperated voice came from inside the room. “You can’t keep barging into my office, Marianne.”

  “Miss Amey Barney is here to see you,” Marianne replied in a cheery voice, ignoring his gruff tone.

  “Send her in.”

  Amey gripped the handle of her carpet bag tightly as she walked into the room.

  A gentleman with bright red hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and broad shoulders stood behind the desk and greeted her politely. “Miss Amey Barney, welcome to the Denver office,” he said. “My name is Archie Gordon, and we’re delighted to have you working out of our office.”

  “As am I,” she replied, hoping her words sounded convincing.

  Mr. Gordon pointed toward a tall, thin man with a strong jaw and a straight nose. “Allow me to introduce you to Lincoln Hoyt. He’s one of our top agents.”

  She tipped her head toward Lincoln. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hoyt.”

  His alert eyes tracked her, making her feel slightly uneasy. “Likewise, Miss Barney,” he replied in a deep, baritone voice.

  Mr. Gordon pointed toward a chair next to Lincoln. “Would you care to sit down?”

  “I’d like that very much.” She came around the chair and sat down, placing her carpetbag next to her chair.

  Both men in the room took their seats, and Amey noticed that Marianne had discreetly left the room, closing the door behind her.

  Mr. Gordon reached for a file on his desk. “Mr. Hopkins informed me that you were one of the top agents in the Female Detective Bureau.”

  “I was,” she replied firmly.

  Mr. Gordon bobbed his head in approval. “That’s good. The Denver office is expanding, and we’re always looking for experienced agents to join ou
r ranks.” He looked down at the file on his desk. “I’ve already assigned you a case.”

  “You have?”

  “Yes,” he replied, glancing up at her. “Is that a problem?”

  She squared her shoulders. “No, sir.”

  “Good,” he murmured. “A man’s wife was found dead under mysterious circumstances, and he’s hired us to find her killer.”

  “Is he a suspect?”

  Mr. Gordon shook his head. “The sheriff has already cleared him of any wrongdoing, but the townsfolk aren’t as convinced.”

  “Are you sure the husband didn’t kill his wife and is hiring us in a foolish attempt to clear his name?” she asked.

  Lincoln looked amused as he said, “I said something similar.”

  She shifted toward Lincoln. “When a wife turns up dead, it’s usually the husband.”

  “That’s been my experience, as well,” Lincoln agreed.

  “If that’s the case, and you discover proof that Mr. Tiner is the killer, then you’ll turn your findings over to the sheriff,” Archie instructed.

  “This case sounds easy enough,” she said, rising. “I should have it wrapped up in no time.”

  Mr. Gordon put his hand up. “Hold on,” he ordered. “I need to discuss something with you first.”

  Slowly, she returned to her seat.

  Picking up the quill, Mr. Gordon began tapping it on top of the desk. “Mr. Hopkins told me that you’re rather obsessed with bringing Billy Joe Campbell to justice.”

  “I am,” she replied, seeing no reason to deny it.

  Mr. Gordon’s hand stilled. “I see,” he murmured. “Has your thirst for justice ever compromised an assignment?”

  “No, sir,” she responded honestly.

  “What about the incident at Copper Springs?”

  She lowered her gaze. “I was following up on a lead in between assignments.”

  Mr. Gordon’s lips twitched disapprovingly. “Since you’re new to our office, I’ve decided to assign you a partner for this case.”

  “But, sir, I work alone,” she pressed.

  “Not on this case,” he replied. “I want to be sure you’re properly trained.”

  Her lips parted in disbelief. “I assure you that I have been properly trained.”

  “Mr. Hopkins did inform me of that fact, but it does not alter my decision,” the supervisor said firmly. “I’ve assigned Lincoln Hoyt to be your partner. He will also be the lead agent on this case.”

  Amey clasped her hands in her lap, attempting to curb her sharp tongue. If she spoke what was truly on her mind, she had no doubt that he would fire her. But she wanted to, desperately. How dare Mr. Gordon assign her a partner as if she were a new recruit! She was a seasoned agent, and she’d brought down many criminals over the years.

  “I see that you’re displeased at being assigned a partner,” Mr. Gordon started, “but I assure you that it’s only for this case. Once you’ve proven yourself to Mr. Hoyt, you can start working cases on your own again.”

  “I understand,” she said. “Then I hope we can solve this case quickly.”

  Mr. Gordon nodded approvingly. “I hope so, as well.” He cleared his throat. “This brings us to a difficult topic.”

  “Which is?”

  He shifted his gaze to somewhere over her shoulder, appearing almost anxious. “We do things slightly differently here in Denver.”

  “Differently?” she questioned. “In what way?”

  Archie leaned back in his chair. “We generally assign a new female agent to work with an experienced male agent.”

  “That practice is common in Chicago, as well,” she said, not understanding the hesitancy in his voice.

  “Yes, well, here…” His voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and continued. “We require you to be married to your partner.”

  “What!” she shouted, jumping up from her chair. “You want me to marry my partner?”

  “I do.”

  “But I’m not a new agent,” she argued. “I’ve solved many cases on my own.”

  “I understand your situation is different, but I can’t offer you an exception. It wouldn’t be fair to the other female agents.”

  Turning her heated gaze toward Lincoln, she asked, “You aren’t opposed to marrying a woman you just met?”

  “Not particularly,” he said with a shrug. “After the case, we can get an annulment and go our separate ways.”

  She turned her attention back toward Mr. Gordon. “Is it easy to obtain an annulment?”

  “It is,” he replied. “I’ve been told it’s a fairly straightforward process.”

  “That’s a relief. After all, I have no intention of staying married to a man I hardly know,” she stated, glancing over at Lincoln. “No offense intended.”

  “None taken,” Lincoln replied, “especially since I have no desire to be married at all.”

  Mr. Gordon picked up a file and extended it toward Lincoln. “Here’s the case file,” he shared. “Mr. Tiner will meet you at the hotel in Longworth tomorrow morning to discuss the case.”

  Lincoln accepted the file and rose. “We’ll depart at once.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something, agent?” Mr. Gordon asked with a smirk.

  A frown came to Lincoln’s lips. “Oh, right. We’ll depart after we get ourselves hitched.”

  3

  Lincoln gripped the reins loosely in his hands as they drove toward the train station. He glanced over at his partner… his wife. His newfound responsibility. As much as he hated the thought of having a partner, he knew it would be better for both of them if they started working amicably with each other.

  Amey was busy reading the case file which allowed him a moment to admire her without her knowing. She was a remarkable beauty with an oval face, high cheekbones, and beautiful blue eyes. Her hair was piled into a loose bun around the base of her neck, and he admired its elegance. He’d immediately been attracted to her and recognized that he could have done worse for a temporary wife.

  But he had no intention of courting his wife. No, that was definitely not part of his plan! His strategy was simple. He was going to solve this case, prove that Miss Amey Barney was somewhat adept at her job, and get an annulment.

  Perhaps if he asked nicely, she’d give him a kiss as a parting gift, he thought, then smiled. One could only hope.

  Amey’s voice broke through his musings. “It says that Mr. Tiner and his wife have been married for two years.”

  “Is that so?” he replied, attempting to appear interested. He’d much rather be thinking about kissing the lovely Amey.

  “Yes, and Mr. Tiner wrote down that they were happy together.”

  Lincoln kept his gaze focused on the road. “Clearly, he’s lying.”

  “I agree,” she replied, closing the file.

  “You do?”

  She nodded. “Most marriages are unhappy.”

  Lincoln shifted on the bench toward her. “May I ask what’s caused you to be so cynical about marriage?”

  Amey gripped the sides of the file tightly. “I don’t believe it’s possible for two people to fall in love and stay in love for the remainder of their days.”

  “Interesting,” he commented. “And why is that?”

  “Because people are constantly changing and growing. I think it’s more logical for two people to grow apart than together.” She glanced over at him. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “What’s your view on marriage?”

  Lincoln tightened his grip on the reins. “I have no intention of getting married.” He smirked. “Well, not a real marriage, anyway.”

  “And why is that?” Amey asked, shifting on the bench toward him.

  His smile dimmed. “Need I remind you that we are partners and not friends?”

  “True, but I was hoping to make some conversation,” she replied.

  Lincoln clenched his jaw. “I prefer silence over useless chatter.”

 
Rather than argue with him as he’d been expecting, Amey opened the file and said, “Fair enough. I’ll just continue to go over the case.”

  His eyes scanned the bustling Denver street as they rode in silence. It was comfortable. It was perfect.

  Unfortunately, Amey couldn’t help but ruin it by talking. “There’s a lot of relevant information here,” she said, closing the file.

  “Is that so?”

  She nodded. “I still think the husband is the killer, but I’ll know more tomorrow.”

  He gave her a side glance. “Why do you say that?”

  “I can generally get a good read on people when I first meet them,” she replied.

  “Meaning?”

  Her eyes drifted toward the sidewalk where crowds of men and women were walking down the street. “I can usually tell when someone is lying.”

  “Most Pinkerton agents have that ability.”

  “Do you?”

  He nodded. “Most of the time when people are lying, I can tell because of the direction of their eyes or a fluctuation in their voice.”

  “Well, then we’ll both be able to tell if Mr. Tiner is lying, won’t we?” she observed.

  He glanced down at the file. “What else did the case file tell us?”

  She reopened the file. “I was teasing before,” she replied. “Actually, this file tells us very little.” She pulled out a piece of paper. “Mr. Tiner hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency because his wife’s case has gone cold. The sheriff hasn’t gotten any leads, and the townsfolk truly believe Mr. Tiner is responsible for her death.”

  “Most sheriffs of small towns don’t have the resources to investigate murder cases,” Lincoln said. “They typically only deal with small town crimes, like petty larceny and fights at the saloon.”

  “True,” she replied, looking down at the paper. “Mr. Tiner was out rounding up his cattle when his wife went missing, and she was found later in the day.”

  “Did anyone see him rounding up his cattle?”

  She nodded. “His ten cowhands.”

  “He could have killed her and disposed of her body before he went out to round up the cattle,” he mused.

  “I agree,” she said, placing the paper back into the file and closing it.

  As they neared the train station, Amey pointed toward a corral. “I left my horse in the corral,” she shared. “I’ll need to retrieve him and arrange for transportation to Longworth.”