by Laura Beers
Warren drew his pistol and fired it into the deputy’s right hand.
Harper shouted in pain, dropping his revolver onto the porch and cradling his right hand with his left. “You shot me!”
Keeping his revolver pointed at the deputy, Warren stepped closer and slowly bent down to pick up the deputy’s gun, maintaining eye contact.
“You left me no choice,” he said, tucking it into his belt. “You are lucky that Sheriff Walker ordered no killing.”
Looking down at his hand, Harper saw the blood dripping onto the porch. “You bast…”
Warren cut him off. “Watch your language,” he growled. “There are children present.”
Harper grunted. “Those worthless girls…”
Without hesitation, Warren hit him with the butt of his revolver, knocking the deputy unconscious. “I have a wife to save, and you just won’t shut up,” he muttered under his breath as he stepped over Harper.
Phoebe gave her sister a perplexed look. “Why would you want to kill Mrs. Kimball?”
“Stay and guard the door,” Mrs. Tucker ordered Mr. Johnson over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at Audrey. “Because if I don’t kill her, she will ruin everything that we have worked so hard to obtain.”
“Nothing is worth killing another, Mattie,” Phoebe insisted. “You of all people should know that.”
“You are so simple-minded,” Matilda scoffed at her sister. “Did you forget that Mrs. Kimball is a Yankee? She hates you and all the values you hold dear.”
Phoebe’s lips pressed tightly together as she glanced over at Audrey. “That’s not true. Is it?”
“No, I don’t hate you,” Audrey insisted.
Matilda waved the gun at her. “Of course, she would say that. Yankees lie, deceive, and kill for pleasure.”
“Like you do?” Audrey pressed.
The corners of Matilda’s eyes crinkled as she glared at her. “I only kill people that deserve to die.”
Squaring her shoulders, Audrey refused to show fear, despite having a gun pointed at her. “And what right do you have to make that call?”
“I warned those women not to go snooping around, but they did not listen,” Matilda replied, haughtily.
Phoebe’s hand came up to cover her mouth. “What women?”
“Miss Waxson, Miss Parker, Miss Sorenson…” Matilda listed with no remorse, “and Miss Choppin.”
With wide, disbelieving eyes, Phoebe asked, “You killed our teachers? Why?”
“I did it for us,” Matilda said flatly. “They did not follow the rules. I found them roaming the halls, unescorted. It was only a matter of time before they discovered the counterfeit notes.”
“These notes?” Phoebe asked, waving a hand over her desk.
Matilda shook her head. “No. I use the printing press to create forged greenbacks and exchange them for real ones at the saloon and Ruby’s Theatre.”
“Do you send those to Columbia?” Phoebe questioned.
Matilda laughed, loudly. “I cannot believe how gullible you are. Yes, and those fifty-dollar bills are swapped, as well.”
Looking crestfallen, Phoebe’s eyes roamed over her desk. “You used me?”
“We used each other,” Matilda declared sharply. “I knew you wouldn’t willingly create forged notes, so I told you that I was sending them back home to help with the rebuilding efforts. Counterfeiting fifty-dollar notes is nearly impossible on a hand-cranked printing press, but I knew you were skilled enough to replicate these notes on your own.”
“How did you print the counterfeit greenbacks without my knowledge?” Phoebe asked.
Looking amused, Matilda replied, “It was easy. I used the printing press when you were teaching or painting your portraits. It appears that I was right to assume that you would criticize me for counterfeiting these bills, even though you’ve been enjoying the spoils of my hard work.”
Phoebe looked at her sister, aghast. “What happened to you, Mattie? We were supposed to start over and run a finishing school together.”
“Wake up, Phoebe,” Matilda snapped. “A finishing school takes money to run, and we didn’t have any.”
“I thought you had some money from John’s passing?” Phoebe asked.
“I did, but it was spent after we bought the school, and the only thing of value he left me was his printing press. Luckily for me, John was paid to counterfeit Union currency, and I used to assist him. The Confederates had hoped that his forgeries would flood the North and would undermine the value of the Union dollar.” Matilda frowned. “Unfortunately, the Union was already doing something similar on a wider scale.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Phoebe asked. “We could have found another livelihood.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Matilda huffed. “When we bought this school five years ago, we could barely cover our expenses for the first few years. Finally, I had enough of scraping by. I had the printing press repaired and found a blacksmith willing to create templates for us.”
“We could have cut costs in other ways, Mattie,” Phoebe stated. “There was a lot that we could have done without.”
Matilda gave her sister an annoyed look. “A finishing school is an excellent cover, especially one that is known for their art department. It worked splendidly for over two years. I even acquired enough money to buy Ruby’s Theatre and a saloon in town.”
“You own a brothel?” Phoebe murmured in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
Matilda brought the revolver up, aiming it at Audrey’s chest. “While you were busy spending time with the girls, I took care of everything else.”
Phoebe stepped in front of Audrey. “I won’t let you kill her.”
“Really, Phoebe,” Matilda sighed. “Why are you being so dramatic?”
“She is a Pinkerton agent,” Phoebe blurted out.
Matilda’s hand stilled. “You are a Pinkerton agent?” For the first time, her words were hesitant. “What are you doing here?”
Stepping to the side and out from behind Phoebe, Audrey shared, “You put too many counterfeit notes into circulation. You caught the attention of Mr. Douglas. In turn, he reported the influx of counterfeit bills, and the Pinkerton Detective Agency was hired to find the counterfeiter.” She smiled. “Which is you.”
“Good,” Matilda shouted. “I hope all my counterfeit notes ruin the Union’s economy. They are the traitors, not me!”
A gunshot came from outside, and Matilda barked at the guard, “Go find out what is going on out there.”
Taking advantage of Matilda’s distraction, Audrey slid her right hand into the hidden pocket and gripped her gun. “Where did you bury the women you killed?”
“Why do you care?” Matilda asked.
“I would like to give them a proper burial after you hang for your crimes,” Audrey said.
Stepping further into the room and away from the door, Matilda continued pointing the gun at her chest. “You are a nuisance, and I tire of your prattle.”
Phoebe stepped closer to her sister. “Put down the gun, Mattie,” she pleaded.
“Shut up, Phoebe,” Matilda hissed. “If I go down, then you go down with me.”
Audrey shook her head. “Not true. I will testify that Phoebe knew nothing about the counterfeiting scheme or the murders.”
“How sweet,” Matilda mocked with a pouting lip. “You are pretending to be an honorable Yankee, caring about the needs of us sweet widows.”
“I am not pretending about protecting Phoebe, but you…” Audrey paused, giving her a pointed look, “are quite evil, and I hope you hang.”
There was a loud thud from the front of the house, followed by Warren’s voice shouting, “Audrey!”
When Matilda turned her head toward the door, Audrey pulled the derringer out of her pocket. In one swift motion, she cocked the pistol and had it pointed at Matilda before she even turned back around.
Matilda eyed the pistol in Audrey’s hand. “It appear
s we are in a standoff.”
The cocking of another pistol came from the hallway as Warren entered the room and pointed his gun at Matilda. “Put the gun down and step away from my wife.”
Just seeing Warren, and hearing the tender, yet possessive way he called her ‘wife’, made Audrey’s heart flutter, giving her hope that he cared for her.
“Mr. Kimball, I presume,” Matilda sneered, keeping her eyes locked on Audrey, but angling her body to keep Warren in her line of sight. “How quaint. You have come to watch your wife die.”
“No one has to die here today,” Warren declared. “Put down your weapon, and you will walk out of here alive.”
“Did you know that General Sherman said the same thing before he ordered every able-bodied male in our town to be slaughtered?” Matilda asked, her eyes reflecting pain and torment. “My husband was killed right in front of me.”
“I am sorry for your loss. What General Sherman did was unforgivable,” Audrey said, “but that does not condone your actions after the fact.”
Phoebe spoke up, “I lost my husband, too, Matilda. Did you forget that?”
“You were only married for two months,” Matilda declared. “You hardly know what love is.”
Phoebe’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know what love is? I loved Daniel. I loved him with all my heart!” she shouted. “How dare you discount what we had!”
“Put down the pistol,” Warren warned. “It’s over. You have no escape.”
With tears in her eyes, Phoebe pleaded, “Put down the pistol, Mattie. I can’t lose you this way.”
Matilda huffed. “I have been buying time, because my guards will be here soon. Then, we will kill Mr. and Mrs. Kimball.”
Out of the corner of her eyes, Audrey saw Warren give her a wink as he smiled smugly. “What you don’t realize, Mrs. Tucker, is that your guards are all tied up, along with Deputy Harper.”
“Deputy Harper?” Audrey mouthed to him.
He acknowledged her question with a nod before adding, “And Sheriff Walker is up to speed on the investigation. Do the right thing. Put your gun down.”
Matilda’s eyes shone with unconcealed hatred. “If you shoot me, then I will kill your wife,” she said, her voice dripping with deadly venom.
“If you make another move, I will shoot,” Warren warned in a deadly tone. “This is your last warning.”
“I did this for us, Phoebe,” Matilda stated, her eyes flickering toward her sister.
Tears ran down Phoebe’s face as she shook her head. “No, you did this for yourself. I will never condone your actions, Mattie. You killed people!”
Matilda’s finger caressed the trigger ever so slightly.
“Don’t do it,” Audrey urged, knowing if Matilda’s gun went off at this close range, she would die.
Audrey hesitated. She didn’t want to take another’s life, so she held onto hope that Matilda would put her gun down. Her calculating eyes watched Matilda carefully, waiting for her to make a move.
“You will not win!” Matilda shouted as her finger tensed to pull the trigger. A shot rang out, and the headmistress crumbled to the floor.
“No, Matilda!” Phoebe screamed, rushing to her side.
In two strides, Warren closed the distance between them and drew Audrey into his arms, pulling her close. “You are never allowed to leave my side again,” he ordered, his voice shaky.
Wrapping her arms around him, Audrey buried her head in his neck. “I don’t have a problem with that,” she murmured.
A loud, disapproving sigh came from the doorway. “I said no killing, Rockwell,” the sheriff scolded sternly.
“I had no choice, sheriff,” Warren said, not turning to look at him. Instead, he leaned back to look into her eyes. “She was going to kill my wife.” His eyes roamed her face, and a smile touched his lips. “And I only just got her.”
Audrey smiled at him through grateful tears. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”
Leaning in, he kissed her cheek and whispered into her ear, “I have never been so scared.”
“Haven’t you been in a standoff before?” she asked, surprised by his admission.
He chuckled. “I have been in many standoffs, but I’ve never had so much to lose.”
Phoebe’s loud sobs caught Audrey’s attention. She looked at the distraught woman, and her heart constricted.
Warren leaned closer and whispered, “That is why I pulled the trigger. I didn’t want you to live with Matilda’s death on your conscience.”
“Thank you,” she murmured softly. Stepping out of his arms, she knelt beside Phoebe, putting her arm around her, hoping to provide some comfort.
The sheriff cleared his throat as he picked up the still-wet, hand-replicated note. “It appears that someone was counterfeiting fifty-dollar bills. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Mrs. Quinn?”
Phoebe looked panicked, so Audrey answered, “Matilda was responsible for painting those.”
The sheriff’s alert eyes shifted toward Phoebe. “Is that so?”
With a slight nod, Phoebe offered Audrey a grateful look. “My sister told me that they were art pieces.”
“I see,” Sheriff Walker said with a decisive head bob. “Well, since a Pinkerton agent witnessed your sister painting these counterfeit bills, I consider this matter dropped… assuming these reproduced notes end with your sister’s death.”
“They will.” Phoebe’s gaze drifted toward Matilda’s body, her eyes filling with tears again. “The war changed my sister. She used to be fun-loving and engaging, but she became the person she swore she would never become.”
Sheriff Walker removed his hat and held it in front of him. “Ma’am, why don’t we hitch your wagon, and you can ride into town with us? I am sure the mayor’s wife, Mrs. Brown, would love to have you for a few days.”
Phoebe swiped at the tears streaming down her cheeks as she rose. Audrey stood, as well. “Thank you for the offer, sheriff, but I am needed at the school. The girls need me here. Besides, it is high time we played a game out front and relaxed some of my sister’s absurdly strict rules.”
Sheriff nodded. “At least allow us to bury the body.”
“I would appreciate that,” Phoebe said. “Now, if you will excuse me.”
They watched as Phoebe walked out of the room with her head held high. However, once she was in the hallway, they heard muffled sobbing that slowly faded away.
The sheriff sighed. “This turned into a mess. I have tied-up guards, a wounded, unconscious deputy on the porch, and Mrs. Tucker is dead.” He put his hat back on his head. “That seems like a lot of effort to stop one counterfeiter.”
“And a murderer,” Warren said. When Sheriff Walker gave him a baffled glance, he added, “Harper confessed to me that he killed Mr. Meyer and was working with Mrs. Tucker.”
“And when was this?” the sheriff asked with a skeptical eye.
“After he hit you over the head, he had planned to kill me and stage the whole thing as an accident. Fortunately, Harper is a cocky fool who thought he was a quicker draw than me,” Warren said smugly.
“You should know that Matilda confessed to killing four of her teachers,” Audrey added, stepping closer to Warren.
“Interesting.” Sheriff Walker frowned, his jaw set. “Let’s go have a talk with my former deputy now, shall we?”
After the sheriff walked out of the room, Warren closed the distance between them. “Audrey, words cannot express how relieved I am that you are alive.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I should never have let you go back to the school today.”
“But if I hadn’t gone back, we might never have known about the murders and Deputy Harper’s involvement,” she pointed out.
“That’s true,” he agreed. “I am glad that I have a wife who can take care of herself.”
“Thank you again for saving me,” Audrey said, looking deep into his eyes, hoping he returned her affection.
He smiled impishly. “
That’s what partners do. We look out for each other.”
Her heart dropped. After everything that they had been through, Warren still thought of her as just a partner. He would never think of her as anything more.
Suddenly looking concerned, he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she replied quickly. “You are a good partner.”
A loud, booming voice came from downstairs. “Mr. and Mrs. Rockwell, will you kindly stop dawdling and get down here!” Sheriff Walker yelled.
Warren gestured toward the door. “After you,” he said, smirking. “Let’s wrap this case up.”
Chapter 12
Warren was whistling as he held the telegram in his hand. Archie had been so impressed at how quickly they wrapped up the case that he told them to stay put until he sent their next orders. That had been four days ago. Now, he held their new orders in his hand. They were supposed to board the train to Kansas City and track down the infamous bank robber, Frank McCoy.
Hopping up the step onto the porch in front of the hotel, Warren tipped his hat to Mrs. Henderson as he jogged up the stairs. For the past four days, Audrey had been insistent that he relax and enjoy himself. She had taken him fishing, packed picnics for them to share, gone riding with him into the mountains, and they even took evening strolls.
He had to admit that he loved having Audrey around. She was fun, charismatic, and made his life enjoyable. He would have to write Archie and thank him for selecting Audrey as his wife. She was the perfect partner and his perfect match in every way.
Knocking on their door, he waited until she responded before he opened it. Audrey greeted him with a bright, wide smile.
“Welcome back, Warren.”
Her smile always made his heart do funny things.
“What were you doing in here?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
“Just cleaning up,” she replied, placing a dress into her trunk and closing the lid.
He waggled his brows as he leaned up against the wall. “I got our new orders,” he said, waiting for her to become elated.
Instead, the line between her brows appeared. “Oh, is that so?”
