An Agent for Kitty

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An Agent for Kitty Page 2

by Nerys Leigh


  “In the library? Certainly. You can read as many of them as you want to; they’re there for all the agents. You can take books with you on assignment too, if you’d like.”

  All the breath left Kitty’s lungs. “How many?” she squeaked.

  “As many as you want, although you might want to bear in mind that you do have to carry them.” Marianne smirked. “Or you could get Ben to.”

  An entire library of books to choose from. Kitty could hardly believe it. “Thank you!”

  She rushed back to the library and turned in a slow circle, marveling at the wealth of knowledge around her. Never in her entire twenty-one years had she had unfettered access to so many books at once.

  The problem now was, how would she choose?

  Three hours later, a young woman brought her a tray of food, introducing herself as Pearl, the cook. Kitty hadn’t even been aware it was lunchtime.

  She cut up her food and went right back to reading, a book in one hand and a fork in the other.

  She wasn’t sure how many hours after that it was when she became aware that someone else had entered the library. Finishing the sentence she was reading, she looked up.

  A cloud of butterflies erupted in her stomach, which was interesting because she’d been reading a book on entomology earlier. She wondered vaguely what species they were.

  “Hi,” Ben said, smiling.

  It was a nice smile, warming his blue eyes and creating tiny creases at the corners. Although the truth was, he had a nice everything, with regular features, dark blond hair that formed gentle waves down to his collar, and a lean and pleasantly muscular build. And while he was tall, he wasn’t too tall, which meant she’d be able to look up at him without getting a crick in her neck. She suspected she would want to look at him a lot, if she could get away with it without him noticing.

  She’d have liked to think that she could avoid making a fool of herself with him, but she’d blushed so much when she’d first met him that he must think her face had a permanent rosy hue. The ship of not making a fool of herself had likely sailed, leaving her standing firmly on the dock.

  “Hi,” she replied. “Did you sleep well?”

  His eyebrows rose in surprise and he chuckled. “How did you know I hadn’t been to bed?”

  That was easy. “Your jacket was wrinkled and there was fresh dirt on your shoe. Also, you had a slight air of alcohol on your breath. And there was lipstick on the side of your neck.” She glanced away, a little embarrassed to be pointing that out.

  He took a seat on a chair close to her. “Those are some impressive observational skills.”

  She ducked her head, berating herself at being so pleased to receive the compliment. “Thank you.”

  “I suppose you’d like to know whose lipstick it was,” he said, as if he could read her mind.

  “It’s really none of my business.” But yes, she very much did want to know.

  “Well, I guess you could make an argument for the case that it is, now that we’re married.” He smiled when she finally raised her eyes. “I only met her last night. I’m not even sure of her correct name.” He winced when she raised her eyebrows. “And I probably shouldn’t have told you that part. In my defense, I was slightly drunk all night. Which I also probably shouldn’t have told you.”

  Unsure if she should laugh or disapprove, she settled for a small smile.

  He relaxed into the chair, settling his right ankle on his left thigh. “So tell me, Kitten, why do you want to become a Pinkerton agent?”

  Did he just call her Kitten?

  “I, um…” Should she correct him? Was it intentional? Why would he even call her that?

  She could feel another blush coming on.

  Pretending she hadn’t noticed, she launched into the speech she’d prepared before arriving. “Being an agent of such an esteemed institution is a worthy cause, and I feel my skills will serve the agency well and that I can be an asset in bringing criminals to justice.”

  He nodded slowly. “Nice speech. Now tell me why you really want to be a Pinkerton.”

  Her eyes flicked to the open door.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Archie,” he said with a wink.

  She bit her lip. In her experience, being completely truthful rarely went well.

  “Honesty is a solid foundation for a marriage,” he said. “So I’ve heard.”

  Sighing, she said quietly, “I hate sewing, and that’s all I could ever find work doing.”

  A slow grin stretched his cheeks. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice. “I joined for exactly the same reason, except for the sewing part. For me, it was working on a cattle ranch. I really, really don’t like cows.”

  She raised her hand to cover her mouth as laughter bubbled up in her chest.

  He sat back, grinning as she giggled quietly into her fingers. “So I guess Marianne matched us well.”

  Her ever-lurking blush threatened again. Thankfully, at that moment a man and woman walked into the library, providing her with a much-needed distraction.

  “Morning, Jeff,” Ben said, rising from his seat and bowing to the woman. “Mrs. Moore.”

  “It’s afternoon, you malingerer,” Jeff said.

  “Afternoon, Jeff. May I introduce you to my new wife?”

  He tilted his head to Kitty. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Riley. My commiserations on your marriage to my degenerate colleague.”

  Ben heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Jealousy is such an ugly emotion.”

  Mrs. Moore took the seat Ben had vacated. “I’m Hallie and I hope we’ll be great friends. I’m so glad it’s not just me going through this.”

  Kitty shook the hand she offered. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Kitty.”

  She glanced at Ben to see if he’d noticed the emphasis she’d placed on her correct name, but he simply smiled back.

  “Archie gave me this for you,” Jeff said, handing him a file. “Looks like we’ll be traveling together. We’re going to the same place.”

  Ben opened the file, read for a few seconds, and then barked a laugh. “Dinosaurs?”

  Chapter Three

  Denver and the place they were traveling to in Utah didn’t seem too far apart on the map, but after fourteen hours on the train and a further three in the back of the wagon belonging to the man Ben and Jeffrey had hired in Evanston to take them to their destination, Kitty was stiff and sore and about ready to never travel more than five miles in any direction ever again. Hopefully they’d be there long enough for her to recover from the journey there before they embarked on the journey back.

  At least the company was good. She couldn’t remember ever having been so captivated or laughing so much as she did when Ben and Jeffrey told tales of their time with the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. And Hallie was just the type of person Kitty would have chosen as a friend. Then there was the time when she’d been yawning during the train journey and Ben had offered his chest as a pillow so she could sleep. That had definitely been a highlight.

  The wagon came to a halt and their driver said the most wonderful words Kitty had ever heard. “We’re here.”

  “Oh, thank goodness,” Hallie muttered.

  Ben helped Kitty to her feet, jumped to the ground from the back of the wagon, and held out his hands to help her down. He’d been doing that the whole journey, helping her in and out of carriages and trains, carrying her bags and opening doors for her. Being accustomed to doing everything for herself, it was a new and somewhat odd experience. Not that she was complaining in any way.

  She stepped up to the back end of the wagon and he lifted her to the ground. It was a good half minute before the feeling of his hands on her waist faded, but at least she’d stopped blushing every time he touched her.

  “Stunning, isn’t it?” Ben said as she looked around them in awe.

  “It’s beautiful.” The vista before them almost made the discomfort of the journey worth it.

  A wide, glittering river wended
its way through a valley more than half a mile across, reddish gray cliffs rising to a plateau on either side. The valley floor was of the same dusty color, dotted with piles of boulders and covered in scrubby vegetation and trees. An eagle screeched as it soared overhead.

  Kitty had never been out of the city and the desolate beauty both scared and intrigued her, although if Ben hadn’t been there she suspected it would have been more the former than the latter.

  He spoke to the driver while Jeffrey helped Hallie from the wagon. “Could you give us a minute to find out where we’re meant to be?”

  “Sure thing. Have to get going soon though, or I won’t make it back before dark.”

  Hallie walked up to Kitty. “I can’t feel my backside.”

  Kitty covered her smile with her fingers, glancing back at the men before answering quietly. “Me neither.” She looked at their husbands again before leaning in close to Hallie. “Are you nervous? About being alone with Jeff, I mean?”

  “I would be, if I didn’t trust Mr. Gordon implicitly, although I did have to lay down a few rules with Jeff first. Are you nervous about being alone with Ben?”

  Kitty looked at the dusty ground. “A little. I’m not used to being around men.”

  “Oh, they’re not so bad. And Ben seems nice.” She nudged Kitty with her elbow and smiled. “At least we’ll both have something handsome to look at.”

  Groaning, Kitty pressed her hands to her heating cheeks. “Please don’t. I feel like I’ve been blushing constantly since yesterday.”

  Their conversation came to a halt as Ben and Jeffrey approached.

  “Talking about us?” Ben said.

  “Certainly not,” Hallie replied. “Honestly, why do men always think everything’s about them?”

  Kitty pressed her lips together against her smile and hoped she wasn’t blushing yet again.

  A cluster of tents stained gray by the dusty soil stood a little way from where the driver had stopped, and a similar canvas community was visible across the river, on the far side of the valley.

  Jeffrey indicated the closer camp. “I guess we should find out which is ours over there.”

  As he spoke, a man emerged from one of the tents and headed towards them. He looked to be older, perhaps around fifty, with graying dark hair and a neat mustache. His appearance put Kitty in mind of an odd amalgamation of bank clerk and cowboy.

  His cotton shirt and trousers might once have been white and brown respectively, although now their sheen of dust and dirt blended more with the surrounding landscape.

  He tipped his wide-brimmed hat to Kitty and Hallie as he reached them. “Good afternoon, ladies.” He raised an eyebrow at Ben and Jeffrey. “I’m expecting a man from the Pinkerton Agency, but I’m guessing neither of you are him.”

  “We are,” Jeffrey replied. “At least, one of us is.”

  At the man’s confused look, Ben said, “We’re here for two different cases. I’ve been told to meet a Mr. Louis Webster?”

  A jovial smile replaced his confusion. “Then you’re the one I’m waiting for.”

  “So I guess that means we can find Mr. Zane Ashwood over there?” Jeffrey nodded at the camp on the far side of the valley.

  “You sure can.”

  Jeffrey turned to Hallie. “Looks like it’s back on the wagon for us.”

  “Oh, what fun. Well, I’m sure my backside will wake up eventually.” She gave Kitty a hug, her voice lowering to a whisper. “Good luck. And have some fun.” Drawing back, she flicked her gaze pointedly at Ben.

  Kitty’s blush immediately threatened again. She shot her new friend a look of exasperation and Hallie laughed.

  Hallie and Jeffrey climbed back into the wagon and Jeffrey passed Kitty and Ben’s luggage down to him.

  As they started off in the direction of the other camp, Ben carried the bags over to Kitty and placed them down onto the dusty ground. “What was that about?”

  Clearing her throat, she looked away. “I have no idea.”

  He snorted a laugh. “Kitten, you are just about the worst liar I’ve ever met. But seeing as we’re married, I’m going to count that as a good thing.”

  He’d been calling her Kitten ever since their meeting in the library back in Denver and showed no sign of ever stopping. She had to admit, only to herself, of course, that she rather liked it.

  Her stomach wobbled as he grinned at her. It was a good thing they were married in name only. She was fairly sure that smile of his would have been her undoing if they weren’t.

  He held out his hand to the man who’d come to meet them. “I’m Ben Riley and this is my wife, Kitty.”

  “Abel Miles.” He shook Ben’s hand and nodded to Kitty. “I make sure Mr. Fink’s interests are upheld at the dig, since he can’t be here to look after his investment himself. He let me know he’d contacted the Pinkerton agency and that I should expect you today.” He bent to pick up Kitty’s carpet bag. “May I carry this for you?”

  “Thank you.”

  “You can carry this one too, if you like,” Ben said, hoisting her other bag, the one she’d borrowed from Marianne and stuffed with as many books from the Pinkerton library as she could fit into it.

  Mr. Miles raised his eyebrows, glancing at Kitty. “Is he always like this?”

  Since they’d only known each other for three days she couldn’t be sure, but it was a fairly good assumption. “Yes.”

  “Then you have my sympathies.”

  She hid her smile behind her fingertips as Ben shook his head with an exaggerated sigh. Kitty decided she liked Mr. Miles.

  “Do Pinkerton agents usually take their wives along on investigations?” he asked as they started in the direction of the camp.

  “Not usually,” Ben said, “but Kitty is an agent herself.”

  “Lady Pinkertons.” Mr. Miles nodded. “Interesting idea. Well, if you’ll forgive me for saying so, Mrs. Riley, what we’ve got here is a camp full of men who aren’t seeing the fairer sex too often right now. So I suggest that if you need to question any of them, all you’ll have to do is bat those pretty eyelashes of yours and they’ll be spilling their darkest secrets. Some of which you may not care to know.”

  She had no idea what to say to that. It hadn’t occurred to her that being female would make men more likely to open up to her. At least, not being her. Prettier women, yes, but she’d always regarded herself as somewhat plain.

  “I, um, I’ll keep that in mind,” she said.

  “So, Mr. Miles,” Ben said, “we hear that one of your dinosaurs is missing.”

  “Just the skull. We still have the rest. Well, as much of it as we’ve excavated so far.” His voice filled with excitement. “This discovery could potentially be one of the most important finds in paleontology so far. An almost complete Trachodon skeleton. There is so much knowledge to be gained from it.”

  “It sounds like you’re more than just here to protect Mr. Fink’s interests.”

  He chuckled. “I admit, he chose me for the job because of my interest in paleontology. I’m just an enthusiastic amateur, but I’m more than happy to get stuck in.” He waved his free hand at the dirt on his clothing.

  Reaching the camp, they made their way between once cream-colored canvas tents, now stained by the dust that carpeted the valley floor. Two men sitting outside an open doorway looked up as they passed, their eyes following Kitty in particular.

  She moved closer to Ben. It wasn’t that their gaze held any maliciousness, but attention made her uncomfortable.

  “We haven’t been given much information,” Ben said as they wended their way through the camp.

  “We don’t have much information to give,” Mr. Miles replied. “The skull had been packed up and was in our finds tent, waiting to be shipped with the rest of the latest bones to be excavated, and then last Friday morning it had gone.” He stopped by a tent a little bigger than the others and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Just to warn you, Mr. Webster isn’t happy that Mr. Fink hired y
ou.” With a shrug to indicate how bewildering he found that, he turned to the canvas flap that served as the tent’s door. “Mr. Webster?”

  “Enter,” a voice called from inside.

  Mr. Miles pulled open the flap, held it aside for them, and then followed them inside. “Mr. Webster, the Pinkerton agents are here.”

  The interior of the tent was more comfortable than Kitty had been expecting, with a woven rug covering much of the bare ground and an upholstered chair beside a bookcase stuffed with books and papers. A low cot sat to one side, a large wooden trunk at its foot.

  Mr. Louis Webster, the leader of the dinosaur dig, sat at a table to their right, studying three maps spread out before him. Kitty guessed him at early forties, with a wiry frame, receding hairline, and unusually long fingers.

  He paused in his scrutiny of the maps to scribble something in an open journal then looked up, his eyes flicking between her and Ben.

  Ben stepped forward and held out his hand. “Mr. Webster, I’m Agent Ben Riley.”

  Mr. Webster ignored the proffered hand. “I assume Mr. Miles has informed you of my opposition to your presence here?”

  Kitty glanced at Mr. Miles. His lips twitched in amusement.

  “Let me assure you,” Ben replied, “that we’ll conduct the investigation in a professional manner and leave just as soon as we’ve found your skull. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Who is ‘we’?” Mr. Webster’s eyes moved to Kitty. “And what is a woman doing in my camp?”

  “This is my wife, Kitty. She’s also a Pinkerton agent. She’s working with me on your case.”

  Mr. Webster frowned at her. “I didn’t agree to Pinkerton agents coming in to disrupt my camp, much less a woman. I need my men’s concentration on their work, not on a girl parading around and flaunting her,” he waved a hand up and down at her, “womanliness.”

  She gaped at him, speechless. She’d never in her life been accused of flaunting anything. She wasn’t even sure she knew how to flaunt.

  Ben’s previously polite demeanor vanished, his tone hardening. “Mr. Webster, whether or not you want us here, Mr. Fink hired us to find your skull and that’s what we’re going to do. How you feel about that gives you no right to be rude to my wife.”

 

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