by Carol Cox
Gates reached out as if to touch Ellie’s padded waist, then snatched his arm back against his side. His Adam’s apple bobbed against the knot in his narrow bow tie. “I’ve been in the field a good many years, but I never would have believed this if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
Fleming tugged at Gates’s sleeve, and the two men edged toward the far end of the office, where they began conversing in hushed tones.
Gates stared up at Fleming. “You aren’t seriously recommending we hire her?”
“Think about it. If she can fool us . . .”
“Even so, she’s untrained, untested. Using her could prove to be a complete disaster.”
“Or a stroke of genius.” Fleming looked at Ellie over Gates’s shoulder. “After seeing that transformation, I’m inclined to believe the latter.”
“Hoodwinking us for a matter of minutes is a far cry from carrying out a long-term masquerade.”
“Granted, but remember, we wouldn’t be sending her out there on her own.”
Gates responded with a grunt.
Fleming sighed, and they moved back toward the desk, where Ellie stood, barely able to breathe.
Fleming gestured toward her chair. “Please sit down, Mrs. . . . Miss . . . What is your name, anyway?”
Ellie unlocked her knees and lowered herself onto the padded seat as quickly as her cloth-wrapped limbs would permit. “My name is Elizabeth Moore, as I told you yesterday.” She allowed a smile to play across her lips.
A deep furrow ran from between Gates’s eyebrows to his hairline. “Young woman, this isn’t a game.”
“No, it isn’t.” Ellie snapped back to attention, chiding herself for her lapse when her goal hadn’t yet been reached. “You need the help, and I need the work. So what is your answer, gentlemen?”
Gates eyed her steadily. “Are you a believer, Miss Moore?”
The question caught Ellie off guard. “A believer in . . . ?”
“Are you a follower of Christ?”
Ellie’s mind whirled. What reason did he have for asking such a question? She had no way of knowing, but judging from his searching gaze, getting the job—or not—might hinge on her response. Lifting her chin, she forced herself to look him in the eye. “Of course.”
It wasn’t a lie—not really. She had believed . . . at one time. And she did own a Bible, handed down from her grandmother. She’d even read some of the underlined verses. Surely that counted for something.
Ellie’s heart sank when she saw a flicker of concern darken Gates’s face.
“In that case, you need to be aware that the job of an undercover operative, by its very nature, involves deception. As a believer, you may find that hard to live with.”
“That won’t be a problem.” The glib reply brought a sharp glance from Gates, so Ellie hastened to add, “I mean, I’ll approach it strictly as playing a role. Lavinia Stewart will be the one doing the deceiving, not I.”
Gates turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. “If you want my opinion, it’s a bad idea. We’re crazy if we go ahead with this.”
Fleming nodded slowly. “I see your point. I agree that we may be crazy if we do . . . but I’m certain that we’re fools if we don’t. I’m willing to take full responsibility if Pinkerton has any misgivings.”
A broad smile spread across his face, and he held out his hand. “Welcome aboard, Miss Moore.”
5
KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI
After leaving all her worldly possessions—namely, her trunk and Magdalena’s costume hamper—in the charge of a pimply-faced baggage handler at Kansas City’s Union Depot, Ellie strode along Pershing Road in search of the Imperial Hotel and Norma Brooks, her soon-to-be partner. If all went according to plan, they would spend the afternoon going over information and getting their background stories squared away and leave on the evening train bound for Dodge City, Albuquerque, and points west.
Ellie pressed one hand against her waist to subdue her queasiness and felt her lips twist in a wry smile. Had she bitten off more than she could chew in presuming to play such an audacious role? She pushed the question away as soon as it arose. This job wasn’t a matter of choice, it was one of survival. She had to be able to pull it off. Besides, she wouldn’t be on her own. Her new partner would be on hand to help her make a success of the mission.
What would Norma Brooks be like? Fleming and Gates had given her the woman’s physical description—creamy skin, red hair, a distractingly pretty figure—but those details gave no clue as to the inner person, the woman Ellie would be working with daily until their investigation ended.
Ellie spotted the brightly painted sign for the Imperial across the street. She waited for a phaeton drawn by a striking pair of bays to pass by, then crossed the road, reveling in her freedom of movement when she stepped up onto the boardwalk unencumbered by Lavinia’s more limited gait. For this leg of the trip, she had chosen to travel as herself, knowing it would be the last time she’d be able to do so for some time. Once she boarded the train to Arizona, she would have to become Lavinia Stewart whenever she went out in public.
Ellie huffed out an impatient sniff. If only she’d heard about the investigation earlier, she might have been able to snag the part of the younger woman herself. Instead, she would have to spend her time in the public eye encased in the wig, padding, and cloth leg wrappings that made Lavinia so believable. Not to mention those cheek plumpers. She had to admit they did a first-rate job of changing the shape of her lower face, even adding a lovely hint of jowl along her jawline. But having the wax disks wedged inside her cheeks for hours at a time proved to be far more taxing than she had expected.
Ah, well. How many times had she heard Magdalena bemoaning the necessity of suffering for her art? Apparently it was Ellie’s turn now.
She pushed open the hotel door and stepped inside, pausing to let her eyes adjust to the relative dimness after the glare of the midday sun. As her vision focused, she scanned the lobby’s interior, looking for her partner. An elderly couple occupied a settee in front of the large window, and two businessmen conversed in hushed tones over in one corner. Ellie caught her breath and surveyed the room again, more slowly this time, but she saw no one who fit Norma Brooks’s description. What now?
A balding man peered at her over his pince-nez from behind the L-shaped front desk. Ellie smiled at him, then strolled over to a grouping of overstuffed chairs and perched on the edge of one that faced the doorway, trying to look as though she had every right to be there. Her heart beat double time, and her toes echoed the rhythm against the Oriental rug. Where was Norma?
Avoiding the desk clerk’s gaze, Ellie opened her reticule and pulled out several folded papers, the notes she had scribbled during her all-too-brief training session at the Pinkerton office. She could use this time to refresh her memory of her mentors’ rapid-fire instructions and be ready to fill Norma in on the details when she arrived.
She unfolded the papers and, smoothing them against her knee, reviewed her notes. According to the Pinkertons, several factions existed in Pickford—mine owners, saloonkeepers, plus the usual assortment of businessmen and tradespeople.
“Don’t rely on outward appearances. There’s no telling who might be involved. Under no circumstances are you to reveal your true identity or your connection with this agency to anyone in Pickford.”
Ellie could almost hear Fleming’s dry tone as she read the inked words on the page. “We have no idea who is behind these thefts, so trust no one, not even the miners who asked for our help.”
When Ellie looked at him in astonishment, he’d added, “It wouldn’t be the first time a miscreant has attempted to divert suspicion from himself by calling us in.”
Ellie frowned and tucked that snippet of information away in her memory. She would ask Norma for clarification on this point. Being an experienced investigator, her partner would surely understand the behavior of the criminal element.
The desk clerk polished his pince
-nez with his handkerchief, then set them back on his nose again, never taking his gaze off Ellie. Pushing herself farther back in the seat of the chair, Ellie ignored him as she folded the papers and placed them back inside her reticule. She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairway adjacent to the front desk and swung around to see who was descending.
A stocky blond woman who looked to be in her midforties stepped off the bottom stair of the stairway leading to the hotel rooms and crossed the lobby with determined strides, barely slowing when she pushed open the heavy door and went outside. Ellie let out her breath in a disappointed sigh and slumped against the chair back. Even if her hair had been as red as a strawberry, Ellie would never have suspected the other woman of being Norma Brooks. There had been something in Gates’s voice when he spoke of the senior operative, a tone that made Ellie feel sure Norma was a highly attractive woman.
Besides, she must be relatively young, probably not far from Ellie’s own age, since the Pinkertons had been looking for a woman of Lavinia Stewart’s advancing years to play the role of her aunt . . . and to be by far the less actively involved investigator of the team. Ellie pressed her lips together, remembering the sting she felt when the men told her the role would be primarily a matter of window dressing, giving Norma a necessary chaperone. On the other hand, they also implied that Ellie stood a good chance of future employment with them if she proved herself by learning the ropes quickly.
She needed to look on the bright side and view her role as something like being an understudy, learning the lead character’s lines and stage business while carrying on a minor role of her own. Frustrating for the moment, but with the possibility of bigger opportunities to come. She would fix her hopes on that consolation.
The door to the street swung open, and an attractive young couple strolled into the lobby. The dark-haired man was handsome enough, but Ellie’s gaze—like that of every other person in the room—was drawn to his dazzling companion. Ellie realized her jaw was sagging and snapped her lips shut. Could this be Norma? The Pinkertons had led her to believe she’d be meeting a stunning redhead, but she hadn’t expected anything like this gorgeous creature with her blooming cheeks and air of vitality.
With a show of reluctance, the man moved to one side and stood near the coatrack while the woman stepped forward, glancing from face to face as though searching for someone.
Searching for her! Scrambling to her feet, Ellie tried to collect her wits. This was no time to demonstrate her lack of experience. Plucking up her courage, she approached the other woman and offered a polite smile. “Excuse me. Are you Miss Brooks?”
The exquisite redhead blinked twice before an amused expression spread across her features. “Don’t tell me you’re my aunt.”
So it was Norma. Ellie tried to match the other woman’s easy grin in spite of her pounding heart. “I’m Ellie Moore, at least I am for the moment. But by the time we board the train this evening, you’ll be traveling with your aunt, Lavinia Stewart.”
“Well, well, well.” Norma surveyed Ellie with a long, appraising look, then nodded. “You aren’t at all what I expected, but I know Fleming and Gates well enough to be sure they wouldn’t send along someone they didn’t feel could do the job.”
She tilted her head, then added, “They made a good choice. With your nondescript looks, you’ll be perfect at fading into the background. Nobody will even remember you were around.”
Ellie’s heart leapt up at the initial compliment, then plummeted at Norma’s casual dismissal of her appearance. Of course she was plain. Hadn’t she been told so all her life—by her parents, by Magdalena, by every director she had approached about casting her in even a non-speaking role?
She covered her wounded feelings with practiced indifference. “Tell me about the role you’ll be playing. I’ve worked out most of Lavinia’s history, but I’d like to know more about her relationship with her ‘niece.’ ”
Norma twisted a red curl around one gloved finger. “I planned to go as Jessie Monroe. That’s a name I’ve used on several occasions. But I came here to tell you—”
“Monroe should work,” Ellie murmured, committing the name to memory. “After all, Stewart is Lavinia’s married name, so she and Jessie wouldn’t have to share the same surname. Right?”
The curl sprang free from Norma’s finger and formed a perfect tendril along her creamy cheek. “True, but that doesn’t matter now. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
A sense of having heard these lines before swept over Ellie, and she tried to shake off the feelings of foreboding it evoked. Images of her last night in the Orpheum Theater flashed through her mind, leaving her breathless. An imminent journey and the anticipation of a grand adventure just ahead. Magdalena’s evasive behavior and the words “There’s something I—”
A feeling of doom rolled over her. No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening again. Ellie clenched her hands into fists within the folds of her skirt and searched Norma’s face, trying to reassure herself the other woman’s expression didn’t harbor a revelation that would shatter her hopes.
“I expected to head back to Chicago as soon as I wrapped up this last investigation. Without another female operative available, it looked like the home office was ready to turn down the Arizona case.”
Ellie nodded and forced her hands to unfold. Norma was only giving some personal background, trying to get acquainted and put her at ease. “Yes, that’s what I overheard the day I listened in on their conversation.” She laughed at Norma’s startled expression and quickly outlined the events that led up to her being hired.
One corner of Norma’s lips quirked upward. “In other words, you eavesdropped your way into a job? Very enterprising of you. You have the makings of a fine operative.”
“That’s my hope. In fact, they told me that if you think I show promise during our time together, they’ll consider keeping me on permanently.”
Norma’s look of amusement faded, and Ellie felt a knot form in her stomach. Taking Ellie by the arm, Norma led her over to a small nook formed by an upholstered wing chair and a potted plant. “That’s what I started to tell you. I had my bags packed, and I was ready to head back to Chicago when I got a wire from Gates saying they might have found another agent after all. They told me to stay put and wait for further instructions.”
Ellie nodded, trying to look as though she followed Norma’s line of thought, although she had no idea where the woman’s words might be headed.
“That was fine by me,” Norma went on. “Because I really didn’t want to leave. You see, during my investigation, I met Jack.” The last word came out on a sigh, and she cast a loving glance toward the man hovering near the coatrack.
“When he found out you would be arriving today, and that you and I were supposed to leave together on today’s evening train, he asked me to marry him. Just like that!” Norma snapped her fingers and laughed. Peeling the glove off her left hand, she held it up so Ellie could see the glittering band on her third finger. “We got married last night. Jack routed a preacher out of bed, and the poor man performed the ceremony right in his parlor.”
She pressed the ring to her lips and announced, “Norma Brooks is no more. I’m now Mrs. Jack Lawson.”
“Congratulations.” The word fell from Ellie’s lips like a stone while her mind tried to make sense of the bombshell Norma had just dropped. It took her a moment to collect her thoughts and realize the other woman was still speaking.
“I should have let the main office know, but it all happened so fast. By the time I got the wire telling me to meet you, you were already on your way. So I decided to wait and let you know when you arrived.”
“Are you saying your husband is coming with us?” And how would they explain a third person if he went along?
“No, I’m giving up the detective life for good.”
Ellie’s heart hammered against her chest. “You mean, after the Arizona job.”
Norma
’s perfect lips formed a delicate pout. “I know it’s an awful thing to do, leaving you high and dry like this. I hope you can forgive me.”
Ellie studied Norma’s expression and sighed. Seeing the other woman’s unadulterated joy, how could she not find it in her heart to wish her happiness? “Of course,” she said, hoping her smile looked genuine.
Norma drew Ellie into a quick hug. “Thank you. I knew you had a kind face the moment I laid eyes on you. Now, I really must run.” She gestured toward her new groom, who stood checking his watch with a look of consternation. “Our train leaves in less than an hour. We’re going to New York for our honeymoon!”
She caught Ellie’s hands in hers. “Do me a favor and let the home office know, will you? I should do it myself, but there’s no time. If you’ll just tell them the basic facts, I’ll fill them in on the rest in a few days.”
Ellie nodded dumbly, and Norma flashed a radiant smile. “You’re a dear. I wish we could have gotten to know each other better.” She brushed a kiss on Ellie’s cheek and hurried off to join her husband.
Ellie stood in the dim lobby, wondering why she seemed fated to play the role of abandoned underling over and over again. Feeling the need to regain her equilibrium, she wandered back to the overstuffed chair and sat down again.
“Excuse me, miss.”
Ellie looked up to see the desk clerk’s priggish sneer. “It is against the policy of the Imperial Hotel to allow unescorted young women to loiter in the lobby. If you are not a guest, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. Now.”
A wave of heat suffused Ellie’s face, and she glared at the odious man. Gathering up her reticule, she dragged the door open and left the lobby in a daze.
What now? Despite Norma’s optimistic attitude, Ellie didn’t share the other woman’s assurance of her future employment. She had been a last resort on the mission, hardly anyone’s first choice. Without any training, there would be no reason for the Pinkertons to keep her on. They might not even feel obligated to fund her way back to Chicago.
