“She’s agreed to the use of her property?”
“Yes. I met with her and Jamie yesterday. All the MacLarens know of its existence, but she and Jamie are the only two who know its location.” Noah handed Chaz the address.
“When do they leave?” Chaz asked.
“Within the next few days, once Lee Hatcher gets back to me. He’s got Eva on a train to San Francisco already. He’ll head out only if he’s needed.”
“You do live dangerously, don’t you?” Chaz smirked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Lee and Eva.”
“What does that mean?” Noah thought he knew most of the secrets of his various agents. Perhaps he’d missed something.
“Nothing much, except they used to be married.”
******
Mollie packed the last of her clothes and shut the lid of the trunk. She’d given the outfits she’d used while undercover at the Desert Dove to one of the working girls, a young woman who’d started just after Mollie began her last assignment. The same time she’d first met Pierce MacLaren.
She leaned against the frame of a window overlooking the main street and fingered the thin black ribbon around her neck. Dangling from it was the cameo her mother had given her many years ago, just before she’d left for her job at a small laundry several blocks away. She’d never returned, leaving ten-year-old Mollie and her father to carry on alone.
Twelve years later, Mollie was still plagued with the notion that her mother had not walked out on them, but had become a victim. She was certain her mother was dead.
Her father had insisted otherwise, said that she’d gotten tired of living with so little, and walked out. The police had sided with him, explaining that a body had never been found, nor had anyone heard screams or pleas for help anywhere between their house and the laundry.
She glanced out the window and pulled her thoughts from the past to the real dilemma that had her so on edge—her partner.
Mollie had been raised by a single father, she’d worked alongside men as a clerk in a lumberyard, served drinks to them while at the Desert Dove in Fire Mountain, and yet none of them had made as significant an impact on her as Pierce MacLaren. He’d walked into the Dove alone one afternoon, taken a seat at a back table, and introduced himself. She knew who he was. Everyone knew the six MacLaren men, or at least knew of them.
She’d served him a whiskey then lingered for a moment wanting … something. She hadn’t known what. All Mollie remembered was the way she’d felt when he’d walked into the saloon. Tall and lean, rugged looking with broad shoulders, short dark brown hair, and clear blue eyes that had locked with hers the moment he’d walked in. Her stomach had tripped over itself and her breath had caught in her chest. Never in her life had she felt such an immediate attraction to a man.
Now, they were partners. Mollie winced, irritation at the current situation coursing through her. She still felt the same pull toward the man, yet that pull was mixed with equal parts frustration and exasperation. He was an arrogant, self-righteous, controlling troublemaker who wreaked havoc on her patience whenever they were together. She didn’t understand how one man could affect her so much.
Mollie turned toward the bed and looked at the small trunk that held everything she owned. She straightened her spine and resolved to get through this one last assignment with him. After that, she’d collect her money and take the first train to Boston, leaving the bigheaded MacLaren and her job as a Treasury agent behind.
******
New York City
Lee Hatcher finished his coffee and set the empty cup on the desk. He’d been studying the report in front of him for over an hour, jotting down notes and trying to figure out what it was about the information that sent cautionary sparks through his body. He was a perceptive man, had stayed alive more than once by recognizing the red flags and heeding their warnings. The newest report signaled that what Noah Dodd and many others thought to be isolated cases were, in actuality, tied together. The problem was no one had any information on how all the disparate occurrences were related.
A knock on his door had him looking up to see his other boss, Alex McCann, walk in with another gentleman behind him.
“Good morning, Alex. I thought you were in Philadelphia this week?” Lee stood and walked around to face the two men.
“Something came up that we need to discuss. Alex, this is William Rents. He has some information that might prove interesting.” Alex McCann owned a well-respected investigation firm whose clients included some of the most wealthy and influential men in the eastern United States. Lee, as his chief investigator, was aware of all the cases handled by McCann Investigations.
“Mr. Rents,” Lee said and held out a hand. “Have a seat.”
The three men settled into their chairs before Alex indicated for Rents to begin.
“It’s hard to know where to start,” Rents began. “A good friend of mine is, or was, a banker here in New York. We’d meet for supper a couple of times a month, talk about work, families, and such. The last few times we met, he seemed agitated, would order his meal then hardly take a bite. He was a big man and enjoyed his food, if you know what I mean.”
Lee nodded in understanding. “What happened to your friend?”
“That’s just it—he disappeared for several days before knocking on my door early one morning. He’s got a black eye like he’s been beaten, clothes torn up and such. Told me he’d been bothered by some odd activities at work and needed to speak with someone who could help. Problem was he didn’t know who he could trust, except me. I’ll tell you, he was scared. I told him about Alex and that I’d set up a meeting. Trouble was Alex was in Philadelphia. My friend got nervous about waiting and took off. Next thing I know, his body’s found near the docks. Guess he’d been dead a couple of days.”
“I see.” Lee glanced at Alex before leveling his gaze back on Rents. “Have you spoken of this to anyone besides Alex and me?”
“Not a soul. I got a message off to Alex as soon as I learned of Edward’s death.”
“Last name?”
“Franks. Edward Franks.”
“Have the police figured anything out, found the killer?”
“They won’t talk much to me, but I heard from an acquaintance at the station that they’ve got nothing. Not one clue.”
“Did Franks give you any idea what he wanted to talk to Alex about?”
Rents leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Only that he’d overheard a conversation about how to best get rid of someone. He seemed to think it involved some very influential person.” He paused a moment. “Wish I had more, but I don’t.”
“You did right coming to Alex. Do we know how to reach you, Mr. Rents?”
“Alex has my information.”
Alex stood. “William, I’ll walk out with you. One of us will let you know if we learn anything.” He looked back at Lee. “Don’t leave until we’ve had a chance to talk.”
Five minutes later, Alex had returned, a grim expression on his face as he took a seat. “My gut tells me there’s a connection between what Rents reported and what you’re working on for Dodds.”
“How’s that?”
Alex reached into his pocket, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to Lee. It was a report about a man who was looking for contacts to do some particularly nasty work for one of his clients. The source who’d overheard the conversation seemed to think it involved someone well known. The report had come from one of Alex’s investigators who’d been working another case.
Lee let out a breath. “I don’t believe much in coincidences.”
“Neither do I,” Alex responded as he walked out the door.
Chapter Three
San Francisco
Pierce stepped off the train before helping Mollie down. They’d talked little during the entire trip, each lost in their own thoughts. Mollie had surprised him by pulling out one of the dime novels that were popular and reading
for most of the ride, effectively stopping any conversation between them.
He flagged a carriage to take them to Torie’s large house. Even though Jamie had described the property, Pierce was still unprepared for the imposing structure and lavish interior. Torie had lived here when she’d been married to her first husband, Hamilton Wicklin, a miserable human being who was now out of her life forever.
A nice-looking woman of about thirty answered his knock and smiled. “You must be Mr. and Mrs. MacLaren. I’m Penelope. Miss Victoria sent word that you’d be using the house.” She opened the door wide. “Please come in. I’ll get your bags and show you to your room.”
Room. The word hung in the air between Pierce and Mollie. Both knew one room would never work.
“Hello, Penelope. I’m Pierce and this is my, uh, wife, Mollie.” He’d almost choked on the word wife, and hoped the housekeeper hadn’t noticed. He carried his own bag, letting Penelope assist Mollie with her small trunk. “If it’s not too much trouble, we’d like to have separate rooms.”
Penelope split a look between the two, not commenting. It wasn’t unusual for married couples to have separate rooms, yet when she’d mentioned individual bedrooms to Miss Victoria and her husband, Jamie, he’d about bit her head off.
“No trouble at all, Mr. MacLaren. Follow me and I’ll help you get settled before supper.”
She set Mollie’s trunk down in a beautiful bedroom with rose, soft green, and gold flowered draperies and matching bedspread. Mollie’s breath caught at the lovely furnishings. She stepped to the window and pulled back the sheers to look out on a magnificent garden with walkways and a large gazebo covered in vines.
“I’ll be right back, ma’am, to help you get settled.” Penelope left the door to the hallway open as she showed Pierce his room.
“Here you go, sir,” she said to Pierce. She walked to the large window and drew open the heavy fabric curtains. It was larger than Mollie’s room, with dark wood furnishings and draperies of deep green, blue, and burgundy. The bedspread was of similar colors with a different pattern. “Shall I help you unpack, sir?”
“No, thank you, Penelope. I’ll take care of it.”
The servant nodded and closed the door behind her.
Pierce looked around, trying to imagine his taciturn cousin in this room. He grinned, thinking of what Jamie’s reaction would have been the first time he’d seen it. He thought of the smaller home Jamie and Torie shared in Fire Mountain, wondering how a woman coming from this had been able to accept life on the ranch, which offered so little in the way of comforts compared to the opulent mansion overlooking the sprawling San Francisco bay.
He gave Mollie some time to unpack then walked down the hall to knock on her door. She pulled it open, not offering to let him enter.
One hand on the doorknob, the other on a hip, she looked him up and down. “You need something, MacLaren?”
His eyes narrowed. “We need to talk, work out some details before tomorrow. Meet me downstairs.” He turned to leave and chuckled at her mumbled reply.
“Yes, sir, MacLaren. Whatever you say.”
He ignored the sound of her slammed door and made his way downstairs thinking that this was going to be a very long few weeks.
Mollie leaned against her bedroom door, taking a deep breath to still her racing heart, and closed her eyes. She needed to figure out a way to control her reactions to the handsome MacLaren. She hated the feelings that rippled through her when he was around. The train ride had been excruciating. She just couldn’t seem to relax when he was anywhere around.
“Damn him,” she murmured, and vowed to find a way to keep her attraction to the man concealed, whatever the cost.
******
Eva Gagnon glided down the wide staircase of the opulent San Franciscan Hotel and walked toward the large dining area. She’d been staying in Canada, taking time off after her last assignment, when Noah contacted her.
She stopped to check her image in the gilded mirror to the left of the dining room entrance. Tall, at five nine, and slender with jet-black hair hidden under her fashionable hat, Eva knew she created a presence. It was her job to turn heads, distract, and occupy those under suspicion while her associates dug into their affairs. This assignment would be much the same.
“May I help you, madam?” the maître d' inquired, his eyes fixed on the statuesque woman.
“Yes. I am meeting Mr. Theodore Crow.”
“Of course. Mr. Crow is waiting for you.”
She followed him toward a kind-looking man in a fashionable suit who sat at a table near the front window. He stood when she approached.
“Ah, Miss Gagnon. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He lifted her hand to place a kiss on her delicate fingers.
“Thank you, Mr. Crow. The pleasure is mine.” Eva sat down and smiled at the older gentleman. She’d arrived in San Francisco the week before and wasted no time beginning her charade as a wealthy widow looking to make contacts in the rapidly expanding West Coast city.
Eva met Crow and his wife the previous night at a party hosted by the mayor of San Francisco, Edwin Pound, and his wife, Lydia. Noah Dodd had provided her with a list of businessmen most apt to assist a wealthy widow assimilate into the city’s higher social circle, the kind of men who would have a feel for what was happening around them. All the men on the list possessed the required connections, and Eva was determined to identify those who could provide the answers the agents needed.
Theodore Crow sipped his wine and exchanged pleasantries with Eva. He wasn’t an unattractive man. His medium height and average appearance, with curly red hair mixed with gray, made him seem approachable and sincere. Those qualities, paired with the massive wealth his family had accumulated from generations in the shipping business, made him high on Eva’s list. He’d married a woman a few years his senior who’d inherited an unthinkable sum when her parents died in a train accident. It was a marriage of social and financial equals, which suited them both. Mrs. Crow lived her life of charity events, social issues, and luncheons, and Theodore pursued his own business interests. He was known for helping those new to San Francisco get to know the city.
“The mayor and his wife will be hosting their annual ball this month. His wife is quite the hostess, as you know from last night’s supper party. Do you plan to attend?” Crow finished his wine and watched as their efficient server hastened to fill his glass.
“Yes, I do. The mayor’s wife, Lydia, invited me and a guest.” Eva smiled, planning to get a message off to Lee Hatcher the following day, requesting another agent join her to act as an escort. It would be easier to flow through the social circles on the arm of a wealthy bachelor. “I have some close friends who have recently moved to the city, and Lydia graciously invited them to attend. He works for a wealthy businessman from Denver and will be expanding the gentleman’s operations on the West Coast. His wife is a beautiful woman and quite charming. However, they’re in need of a proper introduction.”
“I’d be happy to introduce the three of you to those I know.”
“What a marvelous idea, Theodore. I’m sure we’ll all have a wonderful time.” Eva relaxed, having already accomplished her objective for the evening.
******
“Mr. MacLaren?”
Pierce looked up from his breakfast to see the housekeeper standing at the entrance to the dining room. “What is it, Penelope?”
“There’s a Miss Gagnon here to see you.” The servant stood erect, keeping her hands clasped in front of her as she waited for his response.
“Please show her to the library.”
They’d been in San Francisco two days without contact from the other female agent. Pierce was glad the waiting was over. He gave Penelope a few minutes to get their guest settled before joining her in the library. He was ready to move this assignment forward.
“Hello, Miss Gagnon. It’s a pleasure.” Pierce walked into the wood-paneled room and took a seat near his guest.
“Tha
nk you for receiving me without notice, Mr. MacLaren. I appreciate your courtesy,” Eva said for the benefit of the housekeeper who still stood at the door.
“Please bring us some coffee, Penelope.” Pierce watched as she left the room then turned to face the woman in front of him.
He wasted no time. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Eva arched a brow as her mouth turned up at the corners. “Anxious, Mr. MacLaren?”
“Pierce, and, yes, I’m ready to move this along.” His response was clipped, not rude, yet his impatience was clear.
Eva opened her reticule and withdrew a piece of paper. She handed it to Pierce and watched as he read through it.
“Mr. Theodore Crow?”
“I met him a few nights ago. He’s wealthy, well connected, and has lived in San Francisco for many years. You, Mollie, and I have received an invitation from the mayor’s wife to attend their annual ball and Mr. Crow has offered to make introductions for us.” Eva shifted to look at a beautiful young woman who entered the library, closed the door, and walked toward her. “You must be Mollie Jamison.” She stood when Mollie came to a halt in front of her chair.
Mollie said nothing at first, staring at the woman before her. She was taller than Mollie by at least two inches, slender, with black hair and striking features that gave her an exotic look. Eva was perhaps the most stunning woman she’d ever seen, and the way Pierce looked at the woman told her he agreed. For some reason, the thought of the gorgeous woman working alongside her partner irritated her.
“Mollie, this…”
“I know who this is, Pierce” Mollie cut him off, not taking her eyes from the woman before her. “Eva Gagnon, correct?”
Eva’s brow arched. “That is correct.” She settled back in her chair and looked at Pierce. “The ball will be the perfect place to move about freely and meet the types of people we need to gather information.”
“What ball?” Mollie asked, miffed that Pierce hadn’t sent for her when Eva arrived.
Wilder Than the Rest: MacLarens of Fire Mountain Page 3
