That was curious. Why would Mr. Fields send men to threaten him over something as common as an affair?
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, gentlemen, but I’m more than willing to go on my way.”
Again, they wouldn’t let him pass.
“Oh, you know perfectly well what we’re talking about. And we were going to handle this the nice and polite way, but we’ve changed our minds.” With no warning except for a shift in his weight, the man drove his fist into Jed’s stomach, forcing the wind out of his lungs.
Jed sucked in a breath as soon as his body overcame the shock, and he brought his fists up in defense. He was no stranger to a fight. In fact, he had won his fair share of tussles both in practice with the other agents and in reality on the streets. These two men were more practiced, however, and within seconds, he was on the ground, reeling from the blows, unable to reach for the pistol concealed at his waist because his arm had been wrenched so painfully. He feared it was broken.
The second man bent over and spoke directly in his face. “Consider this a warning,” he said. “Keep your nose out of places where it doesn’t belong. Our concerns are none of your concern. Got that?”
Jed let out a noncommittal grunt, which they took as agreement before straightening their coats and walking away.
He waited a few minutes to make sure they were gone, and then he waited a few more to catch his breath. Finally, he pulled himself to his feet and took inventory. He still believed his arm could be broken, but his ribs weren’t quite as sore as they’d been at first, and while his head ached, he didn’t think he had a concussion. He’d had a few over the years and considered himself quite the expert.
The Pinkerton office was just a matter of blocks away, and he walked there without too much trouble, holding his arm carefully with his other hand. He needed to report his success and his injury to the office before he did anything else, even if he’d rather get a hot drink and go to bed in the agents’ dormitory. The black of night started to give way to the first gray streaks of dawn as he walked.
“Mr. Green, what on earth have you been up to?” Pearl, the cook, met him in the hallway of the main building when he entered. “You look like you’ve slept the night outdoors.”
“Not quite the whole night, Pearl. Are you still here? Or have you come back early? You didn’t walk here in the dark, did you?” She was a witty, pleasant woman of about thirty-five, and he’d often wondered why she wasn’t married yet.
“I came back early to get a head start on things for the day, and a neighbor was kind enough to escort me on his way to work. Come over here and sit down. You need to be looked at—we should send for the doctor.”
“I was trying to decide if we should send for him or if I should go there.”
She shook her head. “He’s coming to you, if I have anything to say about it. Don’t move from that spot. I’ll be right back. And I’m going to fetch Agent Gordon, too.”
She bustled through the house, and Jed heard the door close. It wouldn’t take long for her to cross the grass to the dormitory. A few minutes later, she returned, Luke Tucker on her heels.
“Agent Tucker very kindly volunteered to go for the doctor when I explained the need,” she said, her tone of voice indicating that she’d actually had a bit of a scuffle getting Luke to wake up. It was still a bit before dawn, after all, and none of the agents would be eager to leave their warm beds until it was good and time.
Luke passed his hand over his face. “Got any coffee?” he mumbled.
“Of course.” Pearl handed him a cup. “Now, off with you. Can’t you see that poor Agent Green is suffering?”
Luke turned bleary eyes in Jed’s direction. “Suffering. Yes. Sorry. On my way.” He stumbled out the door, and Jed wondered if he’d even be able to find the doctor’s house, as sleepy as he still was.
Pearl answered Jed’s unspoken prayer by handing him a cup of coffee as well, watching with concern in her eyes as he laid his arm on his lap before he took the offering. “I don’t know how you all manage to bounce back so quickly after you’ve been treated this way,” she said. “Yet you do, over and over again. It’s almost as if you enjoy the challenge.”
“I don’t enjoy the scuff marks and the broken bones, but I do enjoy a job well done,” Jed replied. “And sometimes those jobs include a few scrapes along the way.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m just the cook and not an agent myself,” she said. “I could never throw myself in the path of danger like you do.”
“I have my doubts about women in this line of business,” Jed replied. “I have a hard time imagining them going through some of the things that are required of us.”
“But you approve of Kate Warne, don’t you?” Pearl asked. “You can’t overlook her contribution to saving the life of President Lincoln!”
Jed shook his head. “I don’t mean to belittle anyone,” he replied, “and most certainly not Agent Warne. It’s just difficult for me to picture a woman being accosted on the street and having her arm broken for who knows what reason.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he did somewhat resent the fact that his arm was throbbing down to his fingertips and up through his shoulder. It didn’t seem fair somehow when all he’d been trying to do was locate a missing person.
Pearl tsked as she moved over to the counter to check on her rising bread dough. “It’s true that we can’t expect the same thing from the women as we do from the men, but I’ll never discount the good a woman can do in the right place at the right time. History’s just full of influential women, you know—Joan of Arc, for one. I just love reading about Joan of Arc.”
Dr. Farley arrived just then, saving Jed from having to answer. He enjoyed studying history too, but he didn’t know how they’d even arrived at Joan of Arc—he was too tired and in too much pain to track the conversation that carefully.
The doctor helped him slide out of his coat, then his shirt. “I’d take you into a private room for this examination, but I’m likely to want some compresses, and the kitchen is the best place for those,” he said apologetically. “Not to mention mixing the plaster for a cast.”
“If you’re trying to ease my feelings, you don’t need to worry,” Pearl said. “I’ve seen enough bare-chested men in my day to make a girl blush. I’ve even taped up some ribs myself, with the things this lot gets into. You won’t find me embarrassed in the slightest.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Dr. Farley replied good-naturedly. He turned back to Jed and grasped his arm, feeling the bones and then raising and lowering the arm to check for range of motion. Jed gritted his teeth and tried not to groan as the pain zipped through his body. He’d had broken bones before—they were rather normal in this line of work—but this one was affecting him more than the others. It must be the placement of the break or something.
“We’ll definitely be putting on a cast, and I’m sorry to say, I’ll need to tug the bone back into position,” Dr. Farley said. “It’s likely to be quite painful. Pearl, do you have any whiskey on hand?”
“No whiskey,” Jed replied.
Dr. Farley looked surprised. “Are you sure? It will take the edge off.”
Jed shook his head. “My mother made me promise that I’d never let whiskey touch my lips, and I have no intention of breaking that promise.”
“Even medicinally?” Pearl asked. “Isn’t that different than drinking it for pleasure?”
“I’ve made my vow,” Jed replied. He knew he sounded stubborn and immovable, and he supposed he was. But he could not look into his mother’s eyes and disappoint her. He didn’t have it in him to break her heart, not when his father had already done such a good job of it.
Dr. Farley frowned, but didn’t say anything. Jed wondered what he was thinking. He probably thought Jed was a fool, but that was all right. As long as Jed could live with himself, that’s all that mattered to him.
The doctor arranged his supplies on the table and asked for some water to
be boiled for the plaster. Then he planted his feet and stood squarely in front of Jed. “I’m going to take hold of your arm and give it a wrench,” he said. “You’ll feel it pop, and you’ll feel quite a lot of pain, but once that pain subsides, you should feel better because the bone will be back in place.”
Jed nodded. It was a procedure he’d had done before. It wasn’t pleasant, but he knew he’d be able to bear it.
At least, that’s what he thought until it actually happened. When the doctor pulled his arm and set the bone, the jolt of pain was so intense, Jed cried out, and he thought he might pass out and throw up all at once. A cold sweat broke out all over his body from the intensity of it, and he closed his eyes, praying for the moment to pass.
“There,” Dr. Farley said. “All done.”
Jed barely heard him through the red curtain of pain, but he slowly became aware of the strips of plastered fabric being wrapped around his arm and the gentle touch of Pearl wiping his forehead with a cloth.
“Well, now. What’s going on in here?”
Jed opened his eyes and saw his boss, lead agent Archie Gordon, standing in the kitchen doorway, his suspenders askew as though he’d dressed hurriedly. “I’ll have a report on your desk in the morning.”
“It is morning. What happened?”
Jed related everything that had taken place the night before, from following Mr. Fields to Miss LeVeau’s apartment to being accosted by the two men in the alley. Archie listened quietly, a grim look on his face.
“I just can’t figure out why they beat me up over an affair,” Jed finished. “I’ve never known a cheating husband to care quite this much about being found out.”
Archie nodded. “I think you’re right—there’s something more going on here. But you’ve done what you were hired to do, Jed—write up your notes for the wife and let’s call it a day.”
Jed shook his head. “I can’t let it go that easily. They broke my arm, Archie, and it hurts like the . . .” He glanced over and saw that Pearl was still in the room. “Like the dickens. Call me petty, but I want them to have some accountability for that. I know that infidelity isn’t something we investigate, but this has to be more than just infidelity.” He didn’t mean to sound as though infidelity was unimportant, but sending someone to beat him up because of it did seem like an overreaction.
Archie seemed to be considering. “I’ll tell you what,” he said after a long moment. “You’ll be in recovery for a while, and you’ll be limited to paperwork and other boring things until that cast comes off. If you want to do a little quiet poking around in the meantime, go ahead, but this will be on your own time. Nothing official, nothing that uses the agency’s resources—just you. Got it?”
Jed nodded. He’d expected as much. “Got it. And thanks.”
Archie lifted a hand. “I’ll probably regret sanctioning it, and I’m sure I’ll get an earful of it from Marianne, but you’re welcome. I’d likely feel the same way if I was in your shoes.”
Jed chuckled, imagining Marianne’s reaction once she found out. She was Archie’s secretary and undoubtedly his right hand, and every agent in the office knew that without her, they’d be sunk. “Yeah, she doesn’t like being a man down.”
“She’ll also be worried about you. Plan for a little extra mothering over the next few weeks.” Archie watched as the doctor smoothed out the last bit of plaster. “What do you say, Dr. Farley? How long will he be out of commission?”
“My guess is a month,” Dr. Farley replied.
Jed groaned. “A month? I have to wear this thing for a solid month?”
“Or longer, if you don’t take care of yourself,” the doctor said pointedly. “The way you heal is entirely related to the way you obey orders, so I suggest you plan on doing everything I say so we can accelerate this process. Yes, you want to find out why this happened to you, but don’t do anything wild and crazy, all right?”
Jed nodded, already anxious for this to be over.
“You’ll need to sit here for a bit until the plaster has fully hardened,” the doctor went on. “Then get some rest. It’ll hurt like . . .” He glanced over at Pearl. “Like the dickens for a few days, but then the pain should recede.”
Pearl shook her head as she slid her bread pans into the oven. “You’d think I’d never heard salty language before, the way you’re all pussyfooting around me.”
“No need for you to hear it from us,” Jed said. He flexed his fingers without moving his arm, noticing that even that slight movement made his arm throb. Great. At least it was his left arm and not his right. As much as he hated doing paperwork, he’d rather work on it than be entirely idle, and he’d be able to be somewhat useful.
He exhaled heavily. Somewhat. Not completely.
Chapter Three
Lucy had been cooped up in the office entirely too much as she worked to organize their new merchandise, and she badly needed some fresh air. She grabbed her cloak and pulled the office door closed behind her, knowing that everything would be exactly where she left it when she came back. Her father’s other employees had only been too glad to pass off the operation to her when she returned, and no one would be stepping in and tampering with her system. That was both good and bad, she supposed.
A cool breeze touched her face as she walked down the street, and she inhaled deeply. It was pleasant to work with the exotic Chinese spices they’d brought home, but nothing could ever top crisp, clean mountain air. Colorado smelled different from any other place in the world, she was sure of it.
She saw the bookstore up ahead and smiled. Her feet had brought her there almost of their own accord, acting from long habit. She’d spent hours in this bookstore over the years. Not only was she passionate about books, but she might have been everlastingly in love with the clerk—just a little bit. She shook her head, amused at herself. The more she thought about the person she’d been before, the more she realized how very much she’d thought about boys. It was an embarrassing discovery.
Mr. Banks, the owner of the store, looked up from his ledger and smiled when she came in. “Lucy Haskell! My goodness, it’s certainly been a long time. I heard you were home and I wondered if you’d be by.”
“Hello, Mr. Banks. No, I couldn’t stay away for long. My feet brought me here automatically when I headed out for my walk.” She glanced around, curious to see if that clerk was still working here, and realized she couldn’t even remember his name to inquire about him. So much for being everlastingly in love.
“Well, you’re certainly a welcome sight. Feel free to browse around. My newest books are right over there.” He indicated the shelf with the tip of his pen, and Lucy headed that way.
Already bent over one volume was a young man with brown hair and a cast on his arm. He seemed completely wrapped up in whatever he was reading, but as she approached, he glanced up and smiled. He had a small dimple in one cheek, and his eyes were as brown as his hair. He was handsome to be sure, and her heart gave a little lurch when she saw the dimple, but she immediately squelched the feeling. Her days of being silly about boys were definitely over.
“I hope I’m not reading the book you’re looking for,” he said, holding up his title so she could see it.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for, so I believe you’re safe,” she replied. Curious—he had chosen a book about the ancient customs of India. Not something she would have chosen out for him—she would have thought he’d be more interested in an exciting novel. He seemed to have that air about him—someone who enjoyed a good chase. But that was none of her concern. She wasn’t curious about him at all. Instead, she trailed her finger along the spines of the remaining books, looking for something to catch her eye.
The young man next to her turned his page, but he somehow unbalanced his book, and it tumbled to the floor. She bent to pick it up for him at the same moment he stooped, and she ran her head into his jaw.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, absolutely mortified. Heat rushed to her cheeks, an
d she wished she could disappear into the floorboards. “Are you all right?”
He held his jaw for a moment, then moved it back and forth. “I believe so,” he said. “And you’re not to worry—I’ve been a bit accident prone lately.” He lifted his arm to indicate the cast.
“No one could possibly be more accident prone than I am. Please—allow me.” She bent over again and retrieved the book. “I’m Lucy Haskell, in case you need someone to blame for your bad luck as of late.”
He laughed. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Haskell. I’m Jed Green. I haven’t seen you here before, but you seem to know the owner.”
“I’ve been away for a few years, but I used to come in here all the time.”
“And I moved here just two years ago. I suppose that explains how we’ve never chanced to meet.” He seemed to appraise her, and she wondered what he saw.
“Welcome to Denver—both of us, I suppose,” she said with a laugh. “What brought you here?”
“Work. I’m a clerk at one of the offices downtown.”
A clerk? That didn’t fit in with her image of him at all. It was disappointing, but she could adjust her expectations a bit. Perhaps reality would prove better than what she’d created in her mind. “That sounds interesting,” she said, giving it a chance. “What sort of things do you do?”
“Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork. What about you?”
“I work for my father—he runs an import and export business. We just returned from China with a large shipment of goods.” She nodded toward the book he held. “If you’re interested in things from other lands, you should stop by the warehouse. We brought home spices, tapestries, silks, jade carving and beads—it’s a treasure trove.”
“I’d enjoy that. Thank you for the invitation.” He glanced toward the front of the store, where a large clock hung on the wall. “Oh, I’m sorry, but I’ve lost track of time. I’ll see you again, Miss Haskell—you can be sure of it.” He placed the book back on the shelf, gave her a nod, and disappeared out the door before she had a chance to reply.
An Agent for Lucy Page 2
