by Lori Wick
Miranda was as good as her word, returning a short time later, and even bringing Camille with her. But Pup could not eat. She had already climbed into bed and fallen sound asleep.
Sunday morning McKay was on the earliest train that left for Boulder en route to Longmont. It was hard to leave the city. The only reason he hadn’t sought out Pup was because he had to leave. He knew that she wanted to be careful, but he was quite certain he could have come and gone without notice. Recognizing that he was starting to think and sound like a man possessed, he finally closed his eyes and asked God to help him maintain a balance.
I need to trust You with Pup. She’s in Your care, and I’ve got to let her go. I keep seeing her in that uniform and blonde hair, and then I worry. I’m not going to keep doing this, Lord. I’m going to believe the truth of Your Word that You will be with her. Thank You for seeing to her every need. Thank You for bringing her into my life. Help her to know Your presence and to remain in the Word.
That was not the end of his prayer, but he had become more restful. He knew that obedience was a constant, daily choice, and joy always came when he claimed God’s truth and obeyed. He knew that Pup would still be on his mind, but he didn’t have to worry. Indeed, he didn’t have time for worry. He had a job waiting for him in Longmont, a job that in one way or another would affect the whole town. With this in mind, McKay turned his attention to the people of Longmont and the case. These thoughts occupied him for the rest of the trip.
“You need to take it easy with her, Nick,” Camille warned him in no uncertain terms, her look stern.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that girl looks exhausted, and she slept all night. She’ll be down for breakfast in a few minutes, but you let her eat before you begin the interrogation.” It was an order she expected to be followed.
Nick frowned at his wife but didn’t argue. He knew he was slightly berserk when it came to this case, but he was sick to death of Duncan Phipps and wanted nothing more than to put the matter to rest. If they all had to work a little harder to accomplish that, well, so be it! Then they could all breathe easier.
That was the way he felt before Pup joined him in the dining room. One look at her too-thin face and he changed his mind. Never one to carry extra flesh, his top undercover agent was losing weight. Even Nick could see the difference.
“Ready for breakfast?” he asked solicitously, working to hide his emotions.
“Yes.” Her voice was fervent. “I think I must have fallen asleep last night before Miranda could come back with a tray.”
“You’re certainly right about that,” the aforementioned woman said when she came in with fresh coffee. “You were out cold when I returned. I want you to eat up this morning.”
“You can count on that.” Pup’s smile thanked her before she began to eat the sumptuous meal. Eggs, muffins with butter, ham and potatoes, hot coffee, and juice were the fare, and Pup felt as though she hadn’t eaten in weeks. Watching her tuck into the food, Nick kept the newspaper in his hand and forced his questions to remain inside of him. He didn’t think she had any new information or she would have said so immediately. He was wrong.
“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she suddenly said, her food half gone and only a little on her front. “I was just so hungry I had to get a little in me.”
“It’s all right.” Nick kept his voice light. “I take it you have news.”
“Good news,” she replied, clearly pleased.
“The files?”
Pup shook her head. “Nothing you’re looking for, but there is a panel in this room—I guess you could call it an office—that’s not a part of the wall. It’s a door if I’ve ever seen one. It’s subtle. I’m very impressed, and although I didn’t have time to do anything with it, I know a secret door when I see one, and our Mr. Phipps has one in his office.”
Pup stopped talking and went back to her food, which was fine with Nick. He didn’t need her to find a way into this door, just knowing it was there was invaluable. It wouldn’t be long before they would raid the Phipps mansion. Nick would see for himself what sat behind the door. By then Pup would be pulled from the case; he couldn’t have her at risk. When it came time to shake the house down, she would be long gone. He opened his mouth to ask her to describe the panel to him, but Camille chose that moment to join them.
When she saw that Nick was letting Pup eat, she looked at him with loving eyes. His heart swelled with the fact that he’d done well; indeed, she was still tenderly gazing at him. The wink he gave her was playful and turned into a huge smile when she blushed.
“Do you want more coffee, Callie?” Camille asked from behind Pup, hoping to divert attention from her flushed face.
“Yes, please. The cook at the Phipps’ can’t make Miranda’s coffee.”
“Do they feed you meals at all?” Camille asked and sat down.
“Only lunch, and that’s because I’m in the kitchen. By dinnertime I’ve been sent upstairs to dust or mop, and no one ever thinks to offer me food. By the time I leave in the evening, the kitchen has been totally cleaned.”
“You don’t do anything but clean?”
“That’s about it. I work in the kitchen some, chopping or peeling potatoes. One evening they wanted me to serve dinner to Duncan and his men, but I dumped a tray and broke several cut-glass dishes. I wasn’t asked to serve again.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about any of that today,” Camille told her. “You can lie around all day, go for a walk, or attack the bookshelves in Nick’s office.”
“Lying around sounds wonderful,” she said, her hand covering a yawn. “I feel I could take a nap right now.” Pup was done with her food and pushed the plate away.
“Maybe this afternoon,” Nick inserted, keeping his voice neutral, “you could give me the layout of the house and office.”
“Sure. I’ll draw it and go over it with you. You don’t mind waiting a bit?”
“Not at all.”
Pup stood. “I’m going through the kitchen so I can thank Miranda, and then I’ll be in my room.”
Both husband and wife told her to sleep well. Camille’s eyes were still on the doorway to the kitchen, so she was unaware of the way Nick had approached. She turned and found him standing close, one hand on the table and the other on the back of her chair. He was bending slightly over her. Their eyes met and he bent the rest of the way to kiss her, a sweet lingering kiss. Camille spoke when Nick moved slightly away, but his lips were still close.
“Thank you for letting her rest.”
“You’re right; she’s tired.”
Camille could only nod and try not to worry.
“Are we having company again tonight?” Nick asked.
“No,” Camille answered, a little surprised at the question.
As Nick studied his wife’s face, his eyes lit with a slow, intimate smile that went straight to his mouth. Camille found herself blushing all over again.
Longmont
McKay was both surprised and pleased to find Trent Adams waiting for him at the train station. The men talked as McKay walked with Trent back to the hotel, the other agent filling him in. Trent had still more to report, so McKay accompanied him to his room on the second floor, and the men exchanged notes there. McKay was relieved to learn that Stuart hadn’t made a move. The senior agent asked Trent to stay on the alert the rest of that day, at least until the trains stopped running that night. McKay would go on duty the next day, but Trent would stay in town. McKay said his goodbyes after making sure Trent knew where he would be that night.
From the hotel McKay went to the livery. He rented a horse and headed home, that sight alone doing his heart a world of good. His father was at a neighbor’s, but his mother was there to greet him. After she’d hugged him, McKay put an arm around her and led her to a chair. They made themselves comfortable in the living room.
“Welcome home,” she offered with a smile.
“Thank you. It sure feels g
ood.”
“Is this business or pleasure?”
“Business, I’m afraid.”
“For how long?”
“Maybe a few days, or possibly back out on the train tomorrow. In fact, I might need to leave town in a hurry. If that happens, I’ll do my best to get word to you.”
Liz’s brows rose. “Sounds important.”
“It is, but I hope it’s also coming to an end. I wish this business didn’t involve people in town, but it does.”
“I’ve prayed for the Stuart family every day since you told us.”
“I appreciate that, Mom. They’re going to need it.”
“And what about you? Beside the obvious needs of safety and wisdom, what should I be praying about for you?”
“Mostly that I don’t lose my mind over a certain woman.”
“Callie.” His mother didn’t even try to keep the satisfaction from her voice.
“Yes.”
“Have you two had trouble?”
“No, but it’s just so hard to get time together, and sometimes I worry about her.”
“I think I can relate.”
“I don’t know, Mom,” he sounded doubtful, knowing he could be honest. “You and Dad saw each other one day, talked nonstop for the next three months and then were married. Callie and I can’t seem to get any time together for more than a few days, if that.”
The room was silent for a few minutes before Liz spoke quietly.
“You were little more than a baby when your father went to work at the cannery.”
“The cannery?”
“Yes, before he gained an interest in pharmaceuticals. Did we never tell you?”
McKay shook his head no.
“It was a night job,” Liz went on. “All night, every night, and I hated it. For the first six weeks all I did was sit up at night and worry. Would he be hurt? Would he do a poor job and be fired? On and on I went until I was nearly ill with exhaustion.
“If you hadn’t been born, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I was up all night worrying about your father and then had to work all day in this house and take care of you. Things became unbearable. In the little time your father and I had with each other, I was short and angry with him. I would start an argument just as he was walking out the door and say horrible things to him. Because he was leaving, there was no time to resolve issues.”
McKay stared at his mother. He had never heard any of this before.
“One night the situation became very bad. I said such awful things that I was sure your father would never want to come home. He rarely grew angry with me, and I’m ashamed to this day over the way I acted, but this night as he was leaving, he snapped. He shouted at me, scaring you to tears in the next room.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘I have a job to do, Liz. Will you please just let me go and do it!’ It doesn’t sound like much right now, but he got my attention. Your father had a job to do, and so did I. I didn’t have to figure out how to do his job or even answer for him if he didn’t do well. I just had to do my job. That was all God would ask of me.
“I’ll never forget that night of understanding. I put you to bed early and then fell on my knees. I didn’t pray long—I was too tired to last—but when I climbed into bed, I’d given it all to God. That night I slept through the night for the first time in six weeks. When I woke in the morning, your father was in bed with me. I hadn’t even heard him come in. I left the room as quietly as I was able and came down here to pray. I decided then and there that I would start and end every day by praying and asking God to help me do my job, and my job alone.”
McKay could only stare at her. How wrong he’d been to think she wouldn’t understand his worry. How foolish and naïve to think that all problems disappear once a person is married.
“Thanks, Mom,” McKay said sincerely. “I told God on the train today that I would let Him do His job, but I still don’t have it right. I just have to do my job.” McKay said the last words with the feeling that he had finally gotten the point.
“Will you try to see Callie on your way back through Boulder?” Liz couldn’t resist asking.
“She’s not in Boulder. She’s working in Denver, and I don’t know when I’ll see her.”
Liz was more curious than ever but didn’t press the point. McKay was silent for a time, his mind on other things. Thinking they could both use some quiet and something cool to drink, Liz gave him his peace. She had just brought tall glasses of cider to the living room when Harry came in the back door.
37
Denver
“The desk sits here.” Pup gestured to the simple map she’d drawn of the office. “There are bookshelves back here,” she put a finger behind the mark which stood for Duncan’s desk, “and over by these windows are the filing cabinets. The door is here, on this paneled wall.” Again she pointed.
It was Sunday evening. Pup had rested all day and was now ready to talk about the layout of the house.
“It’s a well-done job, Nick. You’ll really have to look. The door sits on the same wall as the hallway, so the room can’t be very wide. It might be full of the filing cabinets you really want, or possibly it leads to a stairway that could go either upstairs or into the basement.”
“What about Duncan’s bedroom? Have you ever seen it?”
“I don’t think so. When he’s in the house, there are men everywhere. I do know that all the bedrooms are upstairs.”
He tapped the paper. “This is excellent. You’ve done a great job, Pup.”
She nodded. It had been fairly routine for her, but she was still pleased.
“Just take it easy in the days to come,” Nick told her, but without warning Pup’s mind wandered. She had been so uncertain if she was even to continue the job, and now she sat as pleased as a child with candy over the praise Nick was giving her. She suddenly realized Nick was still speaking to her.
“It hasn’t gotten dangerous, has it?”
“No,” Pup answered truthfully, albeit absently.
Nick nodded, telling her she’d probably be out of Phipps’ house by the middle of the week, if not sooner. But again Pup’s mind was on other aspects of the case. This time Nick didn’t notice. He never did become aware that Pup had missed his comments about the job finishing soon. And since she’d missed them completely, she asked no questions. Pup left for her apartment just before dark with no plans to see Nick until Monday or Tuesday night.
By the time Pup returned to work Monday morning she was ready to be back on the job. Her goal: the paneled door in the office. She hadn’t lifted a finger on Sunday, and she now felt refreshed and more than ready to complete the job. Part of her enthusiasm stemmed from the fact that after arriving home from Nick and Camille’s, she had spent two hours praying and reading her Bible.
She was coming to the very solid conclusion that spying was not a job she could continue with a clear conscience. At the same time, she could not justify walking out on Nick. As soon as this case was wrapped up, she would talk to him and try to explain. This above all else gave her a strong reason to penetrate the office and the hidden door. But no one at the mansion would accommodate her this day.
She cleaned in the upstairs, the library, and the formal dining room, and then worked in the kitchen. Since there were men everywhere, she surmised that Duncan was in the house, but she saw nothing of him. The few times she needed to pass by the office, the door was closed and a man, someone she hadn’t seen before, sat on a chair outside. The closest she came was the library, where she cleaned at a snail’s pace in an effort to be near the office. It was no use. The door remained shut and guarded all day.
“You need to go to Longmont,” Duncan told the man sitting across the desk from him. “You need to see a banker for me.”
The man’s dark eyes regarded him with little interest, and Duncan asked himself, not for the first time, why he knew he could depend on Jubal Hackett. There was nothing overly flashy about him that wo
uld draw attention, but in his quiet way he was rather amazing. There was little Duncan didn’t know about the people who worked for him, and the reports back from his closest men told him that Jubal was his type of employee.
With his light brown hair, dark eyes, baby-smooth complexion, and shy smile, he could cajole an old lady out of her life savings or work a man over with his fists until he was ready to agree to anything Jubal demanded.
He and his brother had been doing jobs for Duncan for years. Govern had been the more brutal of the two, more easily riled and violent, but Jubal was cool, keeping his head in the tensest situations. Men like Govern were a dime a dozen, and Duncan had not even missed him, but Jubal’s talents were a treasure. Duncan knew well that Jubal would get Richard Stuart to Denver if he died trying.
“Tell Richard Stuart I’d like to see him as soon as possible,” Duncan went on smoothly. “You can give him this. If that doesn’t convince him, do what you need to do.” Duncan handed Jubal an envelope. Pup’s brother put the message in his coat pocket without even looking at it.
“I’ll expect you both back no later than tomorrow night.”
Jubal saw no reason to answer. He rose and moved toward the door. He had a job to do and he would get it done. It was just after two o’clock now. He knew that a train left at three. He’d be in Longmont that evening and at the door of the Rocky Mountain Savings first thing Tuesday morning.
Nick could not believe he’d forgotten his anniversary. It was the first time in 34 years. Camille had met him at the door, dressed for an evening on the town, and she could tell by the look on his face that he had not remembered. She fought back the tears, but they would not be stemmed. He had always bought her flowers, she reminded him. The only years he’d missed had been during the war. And now his head was so full of this case that she almost didn’t know him anymore. Nick had to admit that it was all true.
There had been no choice for him—he had to repair her heart. He’d held her, told her they would go to dinner anyway, and made himself push the case from his mind. He’d been headed to see Pup to tell her she didn’t have to go back the next day, but one more day probably didn’t matter. Word had come from McKay that Stuart hadn’t made a move. Nick forced himself to relax. He was tense enough about this case, and Camille was right—it wasn’t fair to her or their marriage when he brought his work home with him.
