by Nerys Leigh
She snorted a delicate laugh. “Then it’s a good thing I’m here. If I had all that money Aaron’s father gave her, I’d go somewhere no one knew me, tell everyone my husband died in a tragic accident, and start a new life with my child. Mrs. Garvey at the boarding house did say Josephine mentioned going to the station on the day she left.”
“Then, as I said, we have no way to find her.”
“But,” she went on, “if she had all that money, what was she doing going to that backstreet place rather than a doctor for an abortion? As the woman said, rich women go to doctors. So let’s assume she lost the money somehow. Maybe Clive Loomis stole it from her. If he let his partner be killed to save himself, I’m sure he’d have no qualms in stealing from a woman who trusted him.”
That was a very good point. “Agreed.”
“So she’s faced with having no money and needing to provide for a baby. What does she do?” She was silent for a few seconds. “What she needs is what all new mothers need – a man to provide for and take care of her while she takes care of her baby.”
“She should have gone west,” he said. “There are always men looking for wives out there, even in Denver.”
She raised her head. “Maybe she did!”
He lifted his brows in question.
“That evening after we got married, and you disappeared to look after your maggots…”
He winced. “I’m sorry about that.”
She patted his chest. “It’s all right, I understand. Back then you liked your maggots more than me.”
He chuckled at that. It was probably true.
“Anyway, that evening I got talking to Isabelle Stevens about how she became a Pinkerton agent, and she mentioned her sister had been a mail order bride.”
Now this was an interesting possibility. “You think Miss Carter became a mail order bride?”
“It’s possible. If you want a husband desperate enough to accept another man’s child from a woman he’s just met, where better to find one?”
He nodded slowly, impressed with her reasoning. “It’s worth looking into. There shouldn’t be too many agencies that match up women with men out west. It’ll be easy to check.”
“Let’s do that today then. We’re close, I can feel it.”
He hoped she was right. He wanted her first case to be a success.
She reached up to press a soft kiss to his lips then murmured against them, “Are you planning on going for a run?”
He shrugged. At that moment, he had no desire whatsoever to leave the bed.
“Because,” she continued, running one finger down his pectoral muscle, “I can think of other ways you could get your morning exercise.”
“No. No running,” he said immediately. “I have no plans to run at all.”
~ ~ ~
The Western Sunset Marriage Service was a grand name for what looked like such a small operation.
If he was honest, two weeks ago Tobias would have questioned why anyone would use such a place. But Clara had changed his opinion of love. Before, he’d regarded it as an unnecessary distraction. Now, he couldn’t imagine anything better.
He wondered if his parents were in love. Given that his ideas on the subject had largely originated with them, he found it hard to imagine of two people who valued academic achievement and sober self-control above all else. He’d never been privy to any real affection between them.
But then what did he know about love? Before Clara, evidently nothing.
She yawned as they approached the door, covering her mouth with her free hand.
He rubbed the other where it rested in the crook of his arm. “We’ll go back to the hotel after this one.”
They still had one more marriage broker to check, but she was obviously tired. So was he. They’d been out all day. Who would have imagined there’d be so many of them in the city?
“I think I’d like that,” she replied, resting her head against his shoulder for a moment.
He’d never imagined how happy simply being close to someone could make him.
He reached out to open the door and followed her into a tiny office.
Behind a desk on the far side of the room, a woman looked up and smiled. “Good afternoon and welcome to the Western Sunset Marriage Service. How may I help you?”
Tobias pulled his badge from his pocket. “I’m Tobias Campbell and this is my wife, Clara. We’re from the Pinkerton Detective agency. We’ve been hired to find a woman and there’s a small chance she might have used your service.”
At least he hadn’t had to pay any of the marriage brokers for information. The money for expenses that Aaron Wetherington had given them was practically down to zero.
“I’m sorry, I’m not able to give out that kind of information.”
Tobias let his wife take over. This was her area of expertise, and she excelled at it. She always seemed to know what to say to get people to talk to her.
She walked up to the desk. “Mrs…?”
“Wright,” the woman replied, taking the hand Clara held out to her.
“May we sit?”
“Certainly.” Mrs. Wright waved them into the chairs in front of her.
“The truth is,” Clara said as she sat, “we’ve been hired by the father of her baby.”
Tobias glanced at her in surprise. She hadn’t revealed that fact to the other agencies to which they’d been
Mrs. Wright’s eyes widened. “Baby?”
“This is very sensitive information and normally we wouldn’t share such details, but this is important and I feel as if we can trust you.”
“Oh, you can,” Mrs. Wright said earnestly. “Are you saying this woman you’re searching for was with child when she came to me?”
“We believe so. Although we’re not absolutely certain she came to you.”
Mrs. Wright rose from her seat and turned to a shelf of ledgers behind her. “When would this have been?”
“We think in April of last year.”
She selected a volume and placed it onto the table. “The name?”
“Miss Josephine Carter.”
“Oh yes, I remember Miss Carter. I believe it was indeed last April.” She scanned the ledger entries. “Yes, here it is. April 22nd, 1870.”
Clara glanced at Toby, barely contained excitement sparkling in her eyes. “And you matched her with a husband?”
“I did. She sent me a letter a few months later thanking me and saying she was happily married and expecting their first child.” Realization dawned on her face. “Oh.”
“Could you tell us where she went?” Clara said.
Mrs. Wright glanced down at the ledger. “I’m really not sure I should.”
Clara reached out to touch her hand where it rested on the pages. “The man we work for doesn’t want to part her from her husband, or take the baby from her. All he wants is to know if the child is his, and to offer her financial help if it is. He didn’t know she was expecting until she was gone, and he’s been trying to find her ever since. He’s a good man. I know how important it is to have a good man to rely on.”
The smile she gave Tobias ignited a warmth in his chest. She thought him a good man and he would do everything in his power to live up to that.
Mrs. Wright’s expression softened and her eyes went to a framed photograph on her desk, a photograph that he only now noticed. “I know that too.”
In it, she stood smiling with a man and two young children. So that was why Clara had mentioned the baby. Clever.
There was silence while she considered their request. Finally, she took a piece of paper and wrote on it. “I can tell you the name of the town where she went, but no more than that. The pastor of the local church will be able to help you. He and his wife are who I work with to match the brides with the men of their town. I’ll give you his details.”
Clara took the paper she handed over. “Thank you so much. Our client will be immensely grateful for this. He’s spent a year and a half trying to
find his child. You’re an answer to his prayers.”
Mrs. Wright smiled. “Please let me know how it turns out. I like to know how my brides are getting on.”
“We will. Thank you again.”
They bid Mrs. Wright farewell and left the Western Sunset Marriage Service.
Smiling, Clara unfolded the piece of paper in her hand and handed it to Tobias. “We did it. We found her.”
The familiar feeling of satisfaction he always got on the completion of a case swept through him, only this time it had an added aspect that made it feel even sweeter. “We did, and I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”
Smiling her beautiful smile, she slipped her arm around his. “I could affect humility and disagree with you, but I’d be lying.”
Laughing, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The next day, they returned to the police station.
Captain Perkins greeted them effusively, grinning like he’d just experienced all of his Christmases at once.
“We got him,” he said as they walked into his office. “Marvin Miller, leader of the Hatmakers, is in a jail cell in this very building, along with most of his deputies and a fair few of the rest of the gang. Clive Loomis really came through with the information. Of course, he was exceptionally motivated, given that if we don’t protect him and get the Hats off the streets, he’s a dead man.”
“Is he here?” Toby said. “We have more questions for him.”
“Sorry, we got him out of the city last night. He’s in a safe place and he’ll only return for the trials. Some of the Hats are still out there, including Miller’s brother, Morgan. We can’t risk them getting to him. After the trial, he’ll be set up somewhere else in the country, far away, with a new identity and everything. It was the only way he’d talk.”
Clara stifled her disappointment. She had hoped to have a definitive answer for Aaron when they met with him later that day. This way, he’d still be left not knowing whether or not Josephine’s baby was his.
“But this is a great day,” Captain Perkins said, grinning and clapping Toby on the back. “Thanks to you two we got most of a vicious gang off the streets, and we’ll get the rest, it’s just a matter of time. You should be proud of yourselves.”
She looked up at Toby and he smiled.
“Not many Pinkerton agents can say they took down a notorious gang on their first case,” he said, pride shining in his eyes.
A smile of her own tugged at her lips. She had to admit, it did feel good. “Will the other agents get to know about it?”
He snorted a laugh. “I think we could work it into conversation somewhere.”
~ ~ ~
Aaron Wetherington stared at the piece of paper he held as if it would vanish at any moment. “This is where Jo is?”
“That’s where she went as a mail order bride,” Clara replied gently. “The woman at the marriage service said she’s happily married now.”
“But she was still pregnant when she left? She didn’t abort the baby like she told my father she would?”
The waiter appeared at the table with their entrées and they waited while he set the plates before each of them.
Clara glanced at Tobias and he could see how hard it was for her to give Lord Wetherington the mixed news. But better she did it than him, in her caring, understanding way. He’d likely just make the man feel worse.
“That’s what we think, yes,” she said, once the waiter was gone. “But we have no proof of that. We also don’t know that the baby is yours. There’s every chance the whole thing was a ruse to get money from your father and that it was Clive Loomis’ child she was carrying.”
She reached out to touch Wetherington’s arm in a gesture that would have made Tobias jealous before, but that he now recognized as simply her caring nature.
“I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
Lord Wetherington took a deep breath and smiled. “I understand that, and I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. You’ve succeeded where everyone else failed. I’ll be sure to pass along to your superiors how happy I am with how you’ve handled this whole thing.”
Tobias nodded his gratitude. “Thank you.”
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Clara said, “what are you going to do now?”
His eyes returned to the paper in his hand. “I know the chances the child is mine are slim, but I have to know for sure. Looks like I’ll be traveling to Green Hill Creek, California, in the near future.”
~ ~ ~
By the time Toby and Clara left the restaurant to walk back to their hotel, dusk was beginning to clothe the city streets in gloom. A lamplighter passed them with his long pole, going from streetlamp to streetlamp to light the gas flames that would illuminate the city for the night.
“What do you think will happen to Aaron?” Clara asked. “Is there a chance the child is his?” In truth, she knew the answer, but she was hoping otherwise.
“I doubt it,” Toby replied. “But maybe that would be a good thing, seeing as Miss Carter is married now anyway.”
“You’re right, but I hope it works out for him anyway. He seems to really want to be a father.”
“Hmm,” he murmured.
At his vague response, she looked up to see him staring behind them.
Following his example, she twisted her neck to look back the way they’d come. “Is something wrong?”
He didn’t answer.
Some way behind them, a group of four men strolled along the sidewalk in their direction. There was nothing particularly unusual about the men. Just out for a walk, perhaps on their way to a tavern or a social event. They didn’t even seem to be paying Clara and Toby any attention.
And yet…
Beside her, Toby quickened his pace.
She glanced to the front to see five more men emerge from around a corner. The group came to a halt, again not looking at Clara and Toby.
And yet…
Toby pulled her to their right to cross the street, then stopped. On the far side, two loose groups of four men each stood watching them.
They were surrounded.
She looked back at the four men approaching from behind them. “Toby?”
“Follow my lead,” he said quietly. “And when I say run, run as fast as you can.”
She had to swallow against her suddenly dry mouth. “I will.”
He steered them back onto their original course, walking more slowly this time.
Ahead of them, the men loitering at the corner all turned to watch, all pretense at nonchalance gone.
They reached a narrow alley on their left.
Abruptly, Toby changed direction, pushing her in ahead of him.
“Run.”
She released his arm and broke into a sprint, lifting her skirts so she wouldn’t trip. His footsteps pounded against the stone paving behind her.
Ahead of them, the alley opened out at a large brick building, a sign reading Tripp’s Brewery, est. 1857 above the door.
Their route took a sharp right at the brewery then a left at the corner, hugging the building. With no other choice, Clara followed it.
Around the corner, rubbish and detritus from the brewery littered their path. She dodged around broken pallets and old barrels, picking up her pace again as they neared the back end of the building and the obstacles cleared.
She raced out into a courtyard behind the building and stumbled to a halt.
“No!” Toby gasped, stopping at her side.
Tall buildings hemmed the courtyard in on every side, the only clear way in via the alley behind them. Toby ran to a pair of wooden gates set into the wall to their right and grasped the handles, shaking them violently when they didn’t open. Chains rattled on the other side, probably padlocked. He looked up, but the top of the gates stopped barely five inches from the wall above.
He slammed his palms into the wood. “They forced us
down here on purpose. I should have known.” He thumped the gates again. “Why didn’t I think?”
A set of double doors in the back of the brewery was the only other way into the courtyard. Clara ran to them and tugged at the handles. They didn’t budge.
She bent down to look at the lock. “Do you have your picks? I didn’t think to bring mine.”
“No, I don’t.”
He stood in the center of the courtyard, turning in a circle. She joined him in searching for another way out, but there was none. No doors led from any of the other buildings and the only windows at ground level were those of the brewery, covered with thick iron bars.
“What’s going on down there?”
Clara spun in the direction of the voice – an open window on the second floor above a stack of barrels piled close to the wall. A woman leaned out to peer down at them.
Toby ran over to her, Clara following. “Ma’am, please help us. We’re in danger. If you let my wife come up there, I can lift her up to you.”
Clara spun to stare at him. “What about you?”
A man appeared at the window, leaning out beside the woman.
“Sir,” Toby said, “I’m begging you. Please let my wife come up there.”
At the sound of running footsteps and shouts, Clara glanced towards the alley.
Heart pounding, she looked back at him. “I’m not going without you.”
He didn’t move his eyes from the couple at the window. “Just her, please. Help me save her.”
She grabbed the front of his jacket, shaking him to get his attention. “I will not leave you here!”
He finally glanced down at her. “Clara…”
“No! On your own, you’ll die. Together, we have a chance.”
“I’m not willing to risk you for that chance!”
“Well I am!”
He shook his head.
She touched her palm to his cheek. “We’re stronger together.”
“Clara…” he repeated.
And then the Hatmakers gang burst into the courtyard.
Chapter Twenty-Three
