“And was this just yesterday?”
“Oh, no. I met with him months ago, and he said he’d be in touch. I never heard from him, so I assumed he’d decided not to hire me after all, but then yesterday morning, I received his note. He said he needed me right away, and now here I am.”
Corbin shook his head. “That’s quite impressive. You left your family without saying goodbye to travel a whole state away with a man you’ve never met before? You’re the courageous one, aren’t you?”
She blushed. “Well, I didn’t think of it that way, but I suppose you’re right. I’m either courageous or very foolish. And I did leave them a note . . . and I’ll write them later.”
“I hardly think you’re foolish.” Corbin spooned up several bites of soup in quick succession. “I’d like to get back upstairs so we can discuss things,” he said. “Have you had enough to eat?”
“Not yet, but I can hurry.” Following his example, only doing it more daintily, Cynthia finished her dinner in a matter of minutes and then rose. They thanked the waitress on their way out and climbed the stairs to their room. Cynthia could hardly wait—she was finally about to learn what she would be doing in Salt Lake City.
Corbin pulled a file from his bag and opened it, spreading the pages on the bed. “These are copies, and I’ll be discarding them before we get there,” he said. “Memorize as much of this information as you can.”
Cynthia nodded, her eyes already roving from paper to paper.
“We’re looking for a man named Kade Brown,” Corbin said. “He specializes in helping criminals disappear—he invents new identities for them, helps them find places to live and that sort of thing. Because of him, the authorities have lost track of several men they were hunting down, and we need to get him into custody as soon as possible. If we can, we need to find out where he’s been sending his clients so we can arrest them as well. They’re likely scattered all over the country, so we’ll be working with law enforcement in each locale. If we can provide the aliases and the addresses, they’ll make the arrests.”
“Do we have any idea how many criminals he’s helped?” Cynthia asked.
“No, not definitively. But it says quite a lot when we’ve tracked several to Salt Lake City and they’ve just disappeared from there.”
Cynthia nodded. “I always thought Salt Lake was a religious place—I never would have thought to look there for that sort of thing.”
“That’s exactly why he chose it. No one would suspect anything because the place is nearly entirely inhabited by Mormons, who don’t believe in breaking the law. He’s got himself tucked up nice and safe, and he doesn’t know we’ve tracked him that far.”
“What exactly will we be doing?” Cynthia asked. “I imagine we’re not just walking up to him and arresting him.”
“No, we’ll be going undercover as criminals who want to go into hiding. Because our goal is to locate his clients as well as arresting him, we need to find his records, if he’s been keeping any. If he doesn’t keep records on paper, we’ll need to get him to talk to us. He needs to trust us.”
“But … we’re criminals. Why would he trust us?”
Corbin smiled. “Good point. He needs to believe that we won’t betray him—that might be a more accurate way to put it.”
Cynthia picked up one of the sheets of paper. It was a telegram that had been sent to Archibald Gordon by a man named Harold Carlson. “This telegram gives the address of the last place where Kade was seen. I take it that Harold Carlson is an agent?”
“That’s right. We’ll be meeting up with him when we reach Salt Lake City so he can give us the latest.”
She frowned. “If he’s already on the case, why are we needed?”
“He’s already been spotted. Kade doubled back one night while Harold was following him, and Harold had to make up a story about searching for his lost dog. Turns out that Kade has a soft spot for animals, and they chatted for about ten minutes.”
Cynthia thought about that for a minute. “And Harold couldn’t just tell Kade that he’d been following him because he wanted to know if he could trust him, and that he’s a criminal who needs help?”
Corbin chuckled. “You really have read a lot of mysteries, haven’t you?”
“Well, it just seems that would be the easiest way to go about it . . .” Had she said something ridiculous? She honestly wasn’t sure.
“You’re right, you know—he could have turned it to his advantage. However, he chose to contact Agent Gordon and ask for additional help, and we’re on our way.” He paused. “I should tell you something before we arrive.”
“You should tell me a great number of things before we arrive,” she said lightly. “You realize how very little I actually know.”
“Yes, I do realize that, and I’m sorry.” Corbin cleared his throat. “It seems that Kade has a weakness for pretty ladies, and that might be why you’ve been asked to go along.”
Cynthia blinked. “You don’t mean that I’m supposed to . . . flirt with this man, do you? Or accept his advances? Because if that’s what you mean, you should definitely be apologizing.”
Corbin held up both hands. “No, not at all. I don’t think Archie would expect that of you, and I knew the moment I met you that you’re not that sort of girl. What I’m suggesting is that you pretend to be a damsel in distress. Play on his sympathies. Tell him you need to go into hiding for your own protection, that he needs to help you or something terrible will happen.”
“Like … what sort of something?”
“I thought you might have some ideas—what with all those mysteries you’ve read.” He smirked.
She put her hands on her hips. “I hope you aren’t mocking me. Those mysteries taught me critical thinking and how to piece things together from only a few clues. I’m going to be an asset to this case, I promise you that.”
“Oh, I’m not saying I doubt that. I just question your means of training.”
Cynthia puffed out a breath. “Training? That’s your job, Mr. Rawlings—to train me. So I suggest you get started on that.”
Chapter Two
Corbin couldn’t help but chuckle again. His new wife was so delightfully infuriated. Her cheeks had gone pink, making her even prettier, and her stubbornness was charming. He had no doubt she believed she could become an agent, but until they were actually fulfilling their assignment, he couldn’t properly assess her abilities, and he wasn’t going to make a judgment call without more information.
In the meantime, he felt terrible, and he needed to lie down. The medicine he’d taken had turned his stomach even though he’d been careful to take it with food, and it hadn’t even lessened his headache. If a good night’s rest didn’t set him to rights, he didn’t know what he was going to do. He had to be in good shape for this assignment and most particularly to watch over his partner, but if he’d gotten a concussion, he might be out of a job this time around, and he would have gotten married for no real reason.
Not that being married to Cynthia was a hardship, but he’d always thought he’d choose his wife himself rather than having his boss make that decision for him.
“I’m sorry if I seem patronizing,” he said. “I’m trying to find some humor in the situation because that’s how I deal with tense moments. We’re walking into something very dangerous, and I want to be sure that you’re aware of the possibilities.”
“Yes, I’m aware, and I’m ready to learn whatever you need to teach me for this case.”
He gave a nod, but then regretted the movement. His head felt as though it had been placed on a turntable and was spinning around and around. He reached out and caught the bedpost for support, but not before he’d stumbled a bit.
“Corbin!” Cynthia exclaimed, reaching out and catching his elbow. “Are you all right?”
“Just a little dizzy.”
She moved the papers aside with one sweep of her arm and helped him ease onto the bed. “You should be resting. Here—lie back.”
He managed to scoot up until he was lying down properly, but it took all his energy. Why was he so exhausted all of a sudden? “I’ll just rest for a few minutes and then we can keep discussing the case,” he said. “I’m sure I’m fine.”
“And I’m sure you’re not.” She began unlacing his shoes. “You need to sleep. Honestly, we could have waited a day before leaving Denver—why didn’t you tell me you were injured? I would have understood.”
“I thought I was fine,” he mumbled. He pressed a hand to his forehead, wondering if that would make the room stop spinning, but it didn’t help at all.
“You were probably so caught up in the moment that you didn’t realize it was serious.” She pulled off his shoes and set them on the floor next to the bed. “If you’re not feeling quite a bit better in the morning, we should send for a doctor.”
“I don’t know what good a doctor would do,” Corbin said. “He might give me powders, but you’ve already done that, and it’s not so bad that I need stitches, is it?”
Cynthia pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “I’m honestly not the best judge of that, but the gash is rather small,” she replied. “It just bled a lot, which I understand is common for a head wound. I learned that from reading a mystery novel,” she added.
“They have their uses.” Corbin shifted a little on the pillow. “I’m not going to ruin this pillowcase, am I?”
She shrugged. “You might—I don’t know how we’d avoid ruining something while we’re here. We can leave a little money on the dresser to cover it.”
“Good idea.” Corbin felt sleep tugging at the edges of his consciousness. “I’m going to be fine in the morning. I promise.”
“We’ll see. And if you’re not, we’ll get you the help you need. You’re the most important thing, Corbin—there are other agents who can take this case if you’re not well.”
“But where would that leave you?”
“Nursing you back to health, of course,” she replied with a slight laugh. “You don’t think I’d leave my husband alone and wounded to fend for himself, do you?”
“About that . . .” He lifted his head and looked at her, even though it was painful. “All my friends in the agency have stayed married to their partners, but I’m told that others have had their marriages annulled at the conclusion of their assignments. You aren’t fettered to me for life—it’s just for now.”
She smiled. “We’ll take care of that in its own due time. For now, stop fighting the inevitable and go to sleep.”
“All right.” He couldn’t argue with that, and soon, he wasn’t even aware of his surroundings anymore.
***
The room was beginning to grow light when Corbin opened his eyes again. He lay there for a moment without moving, reminding himself where he was and what he was doing there. And that he was now married, and there was a beautiful young woman somewhere waiting for him to wake up.
He lifted his head slowly, cautiously, and looked around. She was sitting at the desk in the corner of the room, studying the papers that had been included in the case file. She’d taken out her hair pins, and long curls tumbled around her face and down her neck. If he’d thought she was pretty before, she was stunning now.
“Haven’t you slept?” he asked.
She startled at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re awake. How do you feel?”
“My head is aching, but nothing like it was last night. I guess the real test will be standing up.”
“Well, don’t rush it, whatever you do.” She came to his side and offered a hand, which he took as he eased himself to a sitting position. He was still dizzy, but it was more tolerable now.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“Your question?”
“Yes. Did you get any sleep last night?”
“I tried, but I was too worried. And you were snoring.”
“I was snoring?”
“Yes. I was going to nudge you with my elbow, but considering your infirm state, I decided that wouldn’t be kind, so I got up again instead.”
He hadn’t even been aware of her lying next to him. His brain must truly be injured if he’d missed that important detail. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll try to make it up to you later.”
“It’s all right. It gave me a chance to study this case file in more detail. I was particularly interested in this list of persons you believe escaped with Kade’s help. It’s rather extensive.”
“It is, and sadly, it’s mostly conjecture. We have one witness who told us about Kade’s operation, and we have the word of Harold Carlson that he’s seen Kade interacting with various suspect types, but until we’ve sunk our teeth into it, we won’t know exactly what we’re up against.”
“I think the evidence is rather compelling. Why else would all these people disappear after traveling to Salt Lake City? Unless they’re all converting to Mormonism and giving up their lives of crime, but even if they did that, they wouldn’t disappear.” She held out her hands again. “Are you ready to try standing, now that you can sit?”
“I am.” Corbin gripped her hands and eased his weight forward onto his feet. He felt like a newborn calf trying to figure out how to use its legs, but Cynthia held him firmly, and after a few seconds, he found his center and was able to stand without assistance. He didn’t want to let go of her hands—they were soft, even though they were strong—but he did so he could test his balance.
“Very good,” she said. “And the head?”
“Still aching, but it’s much better than it was before.”
“I’m taking this as a very good sign. We’re not going to rush things today, but I believe I can stop worrying about you now.”
“What do you mean, we’re not going to rush? We have a train to catch this morning—”
Cynthia held up a hand. “After you fell asleep, I stepped out into the hall and asked one of the chambermaids to fetch me the train schedule. Yes, there’s a train at ten this morning, but there’s another at four this afternoon.”
“And you’d like to leave at four.” Corbin blew out a breath of frustration. “I hate the thought of losing all this time.”
“I don’t see a need to hate it. Why use up a perfectly good emotion on something we can’t control? You aren’t purposely feeling unwell—that’s not something you can control. What you can control, however, is the way you respond to it.”
Corbin lowered himself back to the edge of the bed, his knees suddenly deciding to lose their strength again. “You’re right, and arriving six hours earlier wouldn’t have solved the case any quicker. We can leave at four, but I do think you should take a nap in the meantime.”
“And I think you’re right. I can hardly keep my eyes open.” She gave him a scrutinizing look. “Are you going to snore again? Because if you are . . .”
“I’ll try my very best not to.”
“All right.” She came around to the other side of the bed and lay down without seeming to give it a second thought. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Corbin adjusted his pillow, then lay down as well. Cynthia’s quiet breathing soon filled the room, and he couldn’t help but glance over at her. The long curls he’d been admiring were now spilled across her pillow, one tangling up in the lace at the throat of her blouse, and he smiled. She looked so innocent and childlike, but he’d seen a streak of her stubbornness for himself, and he knew she had many layers to her. It would be part of the adventure to figure out those layers and learn what she was all about.
He closed his eyes again, not sure if he’d be able to fall back asleep after the long night’s rest he’d had, but he needn’t have worried. He was asleep again within minutes, taking comfort in the nearness and compassion of his new wife.
***
“Well, you’re a little less pale, but I wouldn’t say you’re completely on the mend,” Cynthia said, giving Corbin a scrutinizing look.
He hadn’t expected to be completely on the mend—he�
��d take whatever progress he could get. “I’m well enough to board that four o’clock train, and that’s all that matters to me.”
She glanced down at the floor, then back up. “I believe I owe you an apology.”
“An apology? Whatever for?”
“Yesterday, when you were late to meet me at the train station, I had all kinds of uncharitable thoughts about you. And then on the train, when you wouldn’t speak to me . . . Well, I’d decided that you weren’t taking this case very seriously, and I wondered if Agent Gordon really had given me the excellent trainer he promised me . . . and I’m sorry. I can see now that you’re completely dedicated, even pushing yourself past your health limitations to get the job done.” She paused. “And I’m sorry for even thinking such things.”
She looked so unsure, as though she thought he’d be angry with her for making this confession, such as it was. He reached out and took her hand, hoping she wouldn’t mind this little bit of familiarity. “I completely understand why you’d feel that way—in your position, I’d likely feel the same. And you don’t need to apologize for the things you think—I’ll never know the difference.”
“Yes, maybe, but I’d know, and I just wanted to clear the air. For my own sake if nothing else.”
He grinned. “Feeling a little guilty, were you?”
“Yes, a little. It’s just . . .Well, at first I was angry with you, but now I admire you, and I thought you should know.” Her cheeks were now bright red, and he couldn’t help it. He reached up and stroked one of those cheeks with the back of his finger, just a quick touch.
An Agent for Cynthia Page 2
