by C. A. Asbrey
“Dora? She was pretty, fun, clever, and desperate. She came from Boston. No one knows much about her folks, but it looks like she ran away from home to get married to Phil Benson. They had a boy together, David, who’s now eight. Her husband died in a mining accident three years ago. Poverty drove her to work at Pearl’s out of desperation. She was doing better than Bessie, and had a few regulars.” She darted a meaningful look at Jake before she continued. “Her favorite seems to be a blind musician called Ben Middleton. I haven’t found out much about him yet, but as there was a shooting involved, I think we can eliminate him acting on his own, but not if he was with someone else. ”
“So?” Nat sat back on his chair. “We already knew that stuff.”
“They set out about ten, had a reading with Anna Schmidt and the Schmidts claim they left about two to return. They were never seen again, until their bodies were found. No sign of the wagon or horses, though. Pearl told me Dora was excited about money coming her way. She was looking forward to a new future. That’s why she wanted a reading.”
Nat put his hands behind his head and gave hear rueful look. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got. I’m not impressed.”
“This isn’t about impressing you, Mr. Quinn.” Abigail retorted. “Were you aware two different sets of people have been trying to adopt Dora’s son since he went into the Juvenile Asylum? The man who works there says he’s never seen interest like it in just over a week. It’s unprecedented. I spoke to a politician friend of his tonight before Jake came. The other woman who enquired kicked up quite the fuss about the boy already being allocated to someone else. He gets collected next week when the paperwork is completed. I also found a telegram arranging a meeting with someone with the initials of R.D. on the day she died. I don’t think that’s a coincidence. It was from Boston.”
Both men sat upright with a start.
“Her son?” said Nat.
“Yes. That’s why I’m here. I have a job for you if you’re up for it. Bring him here, by force if necessary. Someone wants that little boy very badly, and I’m not sure they have his best interests at heart.”
Jake shook his head. “I can’t scare a kid, Abi. He’s only eight.”
“You’ll find a way. I sure of it.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “There’s a side to you which is very gentle.”
Nat stood and fixed her with a wide grin. “Miss MacKay, you wouldn’t be asking us to break the law, now, would you?”
She tilted her chin in challenge. “Nope. I’m asking you to protect a child. If you won’t do it, I will.”
He folded his arms. “And what if he doesn’t want to come?”
“Persuade him, Mr. Quinn.” She glared at him with frosty eyes. “You’ll find a way through his resistance. That’s your specialty, as I remember.”
“Give me one reason why we don’t get you driven out of town as an informant at a brothel,” Nat demanded. “All you’ve got is gossip, and now you want us to break the law for you? How do I know it’s not a trap?”
“A trap? This concerns a little boy, not you.” She stood. “I gave you my word, and that means something. You think your way is the only one, Mr. Quinn? Why do you think a man a smart as Alan Pinkerton would waste money on us if we didn’t get results?”
Nat arched a brow. “Men have all kinds of reasons for wanting women around, Abi. It usually has nothing to do with their minds.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” she demanded.
“Oh, come on. You can’t be that naïve. Men use women all the time.” He paused. “I’ll bet you’re not paid as well as the men. In my gang everyone gets an equal share. Do you get paid the same as the men?”
She bridled at him. “Mr. Quinn, when you see me fall for that sort of manipulation you will also see hell freeze over. Are you reneging on your promise to help solve this? Fine. I’ll leave here and do this alone, but I’ll not forget how little your word is worth.”
Jake strode over to the door. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, Abi. It’s past midnight, and we’re miles from town. It ain’t safe. You take the bed, and we’ll sleep on the floor.” He eyed them both with weary blue eyes. “And no arguments. Dealin’ with you two is like tryin’ to make a knot outta fog. We all want the same thing, so why the Sam Hill are you feudin’ like hillbillies on moonshine?” He pointed over at the bedstead. “Bed. Now! We’ll discuss this in the mornin’.”
“But—”
“No buts, Abi. It’s time to turn in. There’s no question about us helpin’, but we ain’t just at your beck and call. We decide as a team—or not at all. I get you ain’t used to that any more than he is, but it’s about time you learned teamwork ain’t just about bein’ smart and tellin’ people what do all the time. Got that?”
She bit into her lip. “You’re right. I’m not communicating with you as well as I should.” She glanced over at Nat. “In the morning, then? I fully accept there are things you’re better at than me. All I ask is you give me the same credit. I got good stuff at Pearl’s.”
Jake gave a gasp of exasperation. “He ain’t saying you’re stupid, woman. He’s scared for you and too dumb to tell you outright.”
“Oh,” Abigail’s eyes widened, glancing at the outlaw leader who glared at his uncle. “Well, there’s no need to be. This is my choice.”
“Enough.” The gunman rolled out his bedroll. “It’s late. You two can talk, or not, in the mornin’. If you have any consideration at all, you’ll do it when I’m not here.”
Chapter Ten
Nat watched Abigail as she sat on the porch, enjoying the weak morning sun, musing over the cloud of scribblings on her paper; a list of words in arcane writing, with thoughts which shot off in circled bubbles in all directions. Her impenetrable language lay scattered over the page in what had to be more organized than it looked. It appeared completely disordered with vowels and consonants arranged in nonsensical groups, but the arrows tracking one to the other showed she had some kind of structure to her investigation. Nat cursed her for not cooperating, but also had to admit he didn’t blame her. He stood in the doorway admiring the graceful curve of her waist and the little curls on the nape of her long neck. It was so inviting and kissable, but he shook himself back to reality. That was madness. She might as well be the biggest, hairy-assed, smelliest, pot-bellied lawman he ever met because she’d stick him inside as soon as look at him. Jake had never been more right. He loved a challenge, but Abigail MacKay was a step too far, no matter how provoking. She could destroy his whole life, or even brutally end it. He shifted his weight, a floor board creaking in protest, alerting her to his presence. She turned, her feline eyes smoldering in the hinterlands between smile and question.
“Good morning, Mr. Quinn.”
“’Mornin’, Abi.” He strolled over and leaned on the rail. “Looking over your notes, I see. Has anything occurred to you?”
“Only the obvious. What about you?”
He rolled his eyes. “Still not telling me anything? Look, we’re either working together or we’re not. If you’re going to cut us out the whole time, you might as well go and leave this to us.”
“Leave it to you?” Her brows met in consternation. “Why would I let a bunch of criminals take over a murder investigation?” Her dark eyes simmered with suspicion. “Are you planning on killing them? I won’t help you murder someone.”
His jaw firmed. “Haven’t you learned anything about me? I thought you were supposed to be bright. I’d only kill to save a life. I handed the man who killed that railway guard over to the law.”
“That guard wasn’t a friend. Dora matters to Jake. This isn’t the same.”
“True, but I’m still not a killer. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll watch the hanging from a safe distance. It takes a special kind of evil to murder two defenseless women. I won’t be sorry for them, but I’ll leave killing to the law.”
She nodded. “I know what you mean, but what about Jake?”
“He’s never kill
ed anyone who didn’t try to kill him first, and each and every one of them was already a violent criminal. We survive, is all. Our world is violent and brutal.” He sighed and crossed his long legs. “We need to come to an agreement, or this isn’t going to work. You communicate with us, we share information; we work as a team. You want us to get the boy, we’ll do it, but we need to know what you plan on doing while we do our bit. Don’t you think this is risky to us, too?”
She nodded. “Fair enough. I plan on trying to speak to people who knew Dora before she became a prostitute, when she was a respectable married woman. They may have an idea why she hoped to come into money. They might also cast light on who R.D. is and why he sent her a telegram. I also want to know more about the people trying to adopt the boy.”
“A telegram? Yes, they must be from out of the area,” Nat frowned.
“It came from Boston.” Abigail ticked off Celtic gobbledygook on her list. “So I plan on checking into the hotel after that. Let’s see who’s arrived who has those initials.”
Nat’s eyes narrowed. “On your own?”
“I’ve spent the last four years living in hotel rooms all over the country, Mr. Quinn. I don’t make a habit of collecting random people to keep me company.”
“That’s as may be, but there’s a killer on the loose, and he kills women.”
She gave a huff of irritation and climbed to her feet. “Mr. Quinn. You met me in the most unfortunate of circumstances, but—”
“You can say that again.”
She pursed her lips before she continued, “—but I am generally very professional. I am very grateful to both of you. You saved my life. I have no doubt about that, but it doesn’t mean you have any hold on me or my actions. I am offering to help to pay my debt to you. I have dealt with killers before, quite a number of them. You need to let me do my job my way. I’m obligated to you. I really am—”
His voice dropped to a growl. “Are you?”
Her brow creased. “Of course I am. You’re very humane men. You need to stop looking at me as a woman. I am a person doing a job. Anything which can happen to me can happen to a man.”
His eyes blazed out from beneath the brown hair flopping onto his forehead. “Not everything, Abi.”
She arched a brow. “Now you’re being naïve, Mr. Quinn. That’s not true, either.”
He tilted his head, his cheek pitting with a joyless dimple. “See? You shouldn’t know things like that. It’s not right.”
“But I do, so let’s deal with reality, shall we?”
“I’m trying to make you face it, Abi. This is a dangerous world. I don’t want you on my conscience.” She sighed and walked back toward the door, but his hand shot out and grasped her arm. “I’m not finished.”
She sucked in a breath and winced as he hit her injury. His face softened and eyes widened in dismay. His hand slid to her forearm in a gentle stroke. “Dammit! I’m sorry. I forgot. Did I hurt you?”
Her generous mouth slipped into her lopsided smile. “Only when you underestimated me. Look, can we start over? You stop being so suspicious and I’ll share more. I’m not going to turn you in until this is over. I gave you my word, and I meant it. I’m after the killers, and want to pay my debt. You have to trust me at least a little. How about you go and look into the boy’s safety and I’ll speak to the women? You can’t complain about me speaking to ordinary people. Women who drink tea?”
He nodded. “I guess. Just one question. Why don’t you just flood this place with Pinkertons and solve this thing?”
She bit into her lip. “I suppose there’s no harm in telling you. The area commander is dead set against having a woman working here at all. He’ll glory in my failure. I won’t take you two back to him, but there’s no shame in it, because none of his men brought you in, either. If I can arrest the killers, at least I won’t go back empty-handed. I’ll still have done better than his men. You have no idea what it’s like being a woman in that world. I have to prove myself constantly.”
His jaw hardened. “So this isn’t about paying us back?”
“Oh, yes. It is, and I understand the need to be doing something when you lose a loved one. That’s how I became a Pinkerton; but if you weren’t involved, I’d use local law enforcement before the local Pinkerton office. I have something to prove to them, too. This way, it’s two birds with one stone. This isn’t all concerning the two of you.”
“It looks like you’ve got something to prove to everyone,” his face gleamed with devilment. “I may not have a solution to you being a woman in a man’s world, but I sure do admire the problem.”
Her head dropped to stare at the hand still wrapped around her forearm. “Are you quite finished, Mr. Quinn?”
He released her, holding her gaze in an intense stare. “Not even a little, Miss MacKay.”
She swallowed the charge spiraling in her chest. “No. I think you are. We have enough to deal with. We don’t need to complicate things any further.”
♦◊♦
Nat Quinn and Jake Conroy watched the woman standing at the gate of the school yard. They wore their business suits once more, pressed and brushed down, so they looked a million miles away from the members of the outlaw fraternity.
“It’s a good job you put your foot down with Abi this mornin’.” Jake tried to look casual as he watched the woman with the wide-brimmed bonnet linger by the wall. “Otherwise, she’d be the one followin’ these folks all the way from the orphanage to the school house in the freezin’ cold.”
“It made sense for us to do it,” Nat frowned. “She’s gone to find out about Dora’s family from the townsfolk. Gossip is something women do better than us.”
Jake chuckled. “Huh? Have you ever sat in the bunkhouse with the rest of the gang when Ghost Canyon is snowed in? It’s like a quiltin’ bee gone bad. Real bad.”
The bell rang and the woman walked through the gate, heading straight for the building and the teacher standing in the doorway, pausing only to slow down and stare at the blond boy practicing his pitching with his classmates.
“You go. I’ll watch the street.” Jake muttered, his blue eyes searching for impending danger.
As he approached, Nat could hear the woman remonstrating with the pretty schoolteacher. “He has to come now. The train leaves in half-an-hour.”
“The train, ma’am? What train would that be?”
Both women turned to look at the handsome man with the smiling brown eyes who blocked the path. The older woman answered, her sharp nose as good an indicator of her nature as her piercing eyes. “I can’t see what business that is of yours, sir,” she turned away to address the teacher again, but Nat stepped forward.
“Ma’am, I work for the Juvenile Asylum as an investigator. I would like you to explain what your interests in that boy are.”
The woman took a heavy gulp and drank in the authoritative stance and the stony face which brooked no argument.
“I—”
The teacher stepped into the void as the woman floundered in front of them. “She says she’s David’s aunt.”
His dark eyebrows flicked up in query. “I happen to know he had no family declared by his mother before she died, ma’am. I think you best come with me so we can look into this more deeply. We can’t allow children to go off with just anyone, can we?”
“Since when?” the woman snorted.
“Since Henry Bergh formed a society to protect animals. There’s been a lot of pressure to protect children, too. Handing them over to reputable local businessmen is one thing,” Nat answered. “Letting them go off with just anyone is another thing entirely. The Society pays people like me to look after their welfare. The law is changing on children, ma’am.”
“What Society?”
“The Schenectady Children’s Union, ma’am. We work all over the country looking after people who can’t look after themselves.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
Nat shrugged. Of course she hadn’t hea
rd of it. He’d just invented it. “I don’t care. We make sure orphanages check out people before children are handed over to them. You can’t take him until you are checked.” He threw an appealing look at the teacher. “Can you make sure the child stays here until we look into this?”
“Of course.” The young teacher cast anxious eyes across the school yard. “David Benson. Come here right away.” The small blond boy dropped his ball, enormous cornflower blue eyes widening to enormous globes of hurt. “Awww, Miss. Do I have to? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”
“Yes!” She had barked with a harder edge than she intended as her fear for a child in her care hit her. She bit the words back, shaking her head with regret before she spoke with a welcoming smile which was just pasted on to combat her anxiety. “Come here, David. I need a good boy to help me sort the chalks.” Her eyes brightened. “I have pie. We could have some while you help me.”
“Apple?”
“Yes. You can have a big piece,” she cast her gaze to an older boy in the yard. “John Peterson! I want you to make sure no children leave this yard while I go inside. Nobody should leave with anyone other than me or this gentleman. It’s important. Any adults demanding a child leave should be challenged by all you big boys and someone must come and get me immediately. Am I clear?”
“Challenged? Even with catapults?” John asked, his eyes wide with hope.
“You cannot do anything without warnings, John. But no children can leave. None.”
The boy’s face brightened and he waved over his partners in crime. He had never had such power, and he intended to execute it in the most robust fashion. “Yes, Miss. Nobody leaves.”
Nat held the woman’s arm in an iron grip. “Come with me, ma’am. I have a few questions I want to ask you.”
She pulled back, but Nat dragged her. She planted her feet apart and tried to stand her ground, but it was like trying to fight the wind, and before she knew it, she stood back outside the gate, face to face with Jake. His harsh glare threatened more than just an interview.
