An Agent for Esme
The Pinkerton Matchmaker Book 41
by Amelia C. Adams
With thanks to my beta readers—Barbara, Dorothy, Joseph, Mary, Robin, Suzy, and Teresa.
Cover design by Virginia McKevitt
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Table of Contents:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter One
Esmerelda Carter hefted her carpet bag, trying to make it feel lighter, but of course, that was against the laws of physics. The weight of the bag hadn’t changed, but her muscles were becoming fatigued. Thankfully, her destination was just ahead. If she’d realized the walk from the train station would have been so taxing, she would have hired a buggy.
The Pinkerton office of Denver, Colorado, was a decently impressive edifice, she decided as she approached. She was not, however, impressed by the two men leaning up against the columns, one on either side of the door. They were coatless, with their shirtsleeves rolled up to their elbows.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said, giving them a nod as she reached out for the doorknob. They each straightened, a poor attempt at redeeming their sloppy first impressions.
“May I take that for you?” one of them offered, reaching for her bag.
She looked him up and down. “That all depends. Are you one of the agents, or one of the ne’er-do-wells the agency has been hired to apprehend?”
The man’s lips twitched, but his friend burst into outright laughter.
“I suppose we don’t look very respectable, ma’am,” the first man said. “We’ve just completed a case that required us to stay up all night, and we haven’t freshened up yet. I’m Agent Jonah Hays, and this is Agent Jake Hunter.”
Agent Hunter stopped snickering long enough to greet her more cordially.
“I’m Esmerelda Carter, and I’m here to meet with your supervisor. That would be Archibald Gordon, I believe?”
The two men glanced at each other. “That’s right,” Agent Hunter replied. “Is he expecting you?”
“I hope so. A telegram was sent, but I have no way of knowing if it was received.” She raised an eyebrow. “What is it? You’re acting as though something’s wrong.”
“Everything’s fine,” Agent Hays said quickly. “Archie’s just been a little . . . Well, I’m sure everything’s fine.”
“You’re repeating yourself. And you call your supervisor ‘Archie’? That seems rather disrespectful to me.”
“Well, maybe it is, ma’am. I haven’t really considered it. It’s just that when you’ve known someone for a long time . . .” Agent Hays looked uncomfortable. As well he should. Archie, indeed.
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied, even though in her opinion, it did. “If you don’t mind, I’ll head inside now.”
“Of course. And let me take that.” Agent Hays reached for her bag, which she relinquished gladly now that she felt somewhat sure she’d get it back, and they entered the building.
As soon as she stepped over the threshold, Esmerelda looked around, her observant eyes taking in the furnishings and the décor. It was a pleasant foyer, obviously put together by a woman, but not too fussy with frills and folderol. She liked the simplicity of it.
“May I help you, miss?”
She turned at the voice and saw a pale young woman bustling toward her. From the apron she wore over her dark skirt, Esmerelda surmised that she was a housekeeper or maid of some sort. “Yes, I’m here to meet with Agent Gordon. I’m Esmerelda Carter.”
“And I’m Pearl. We’re glad to have you here, Miss Carter.”
“Agent Carter, actually.” Esmerelda was used to having to correct people. It was part of being a woman in her line of work—it came second nature.
“Of course. I apologize. Jonah, please take Agent Carter’s bag upstairs—we’ll tuck her away up there until her itinerary is resolved. Agent Carter, I’ll let Agent Gordon know you’re here.” Pearl crossed to a door just off the lobby and rapped on it, then opened it. “Agent Gordon, I—”
“What in all the bluebells in Scotland—”
Esmerelda blinked at the growl that came from the office, but Pearl didn’t seem flustered in the least.
“I wasn’t aware that bluebells grew in Scotland, sir,” she replied mildly.
“They do indeed—there’s a whole variety called the Scottish bluebell! I would think you’d know that, Pearl!”
Esmerelda took a small step backwards. Pearl merely shook her head.
“Well, sir, the next time I find myself on that side of the ocean, I’ll be certain to swing by and pay the bluebells my respects. First, though, you have an agent here to meet you.”
“And why did you leave him hanging around out there in the lobby? Show him in!”
“It’s a young lady, sir.”
“That doesn’t make it right! Show her in!”
Pearl turned back to Esmerelda with a patient look on her face. “He’ll see you now.”
Esmerelda raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure it’s safe to go in there.”
“He won’t actually hurt you. He’s just a mite out of sorts because his assistant transferred to the Chicago office.”
Esmerelda nodded. “Miss Chapman—I met her just before I left to come here. I’m from the Chicago office.” She recalled Miss Chapman as being quite a lovely woman with dark red hair.
“Agent Gordon depended on her quite a bit, and with her gone, he’s at loose ends. I’m sure he’ll get it figured out, though—in time.”
“If he’s so dependent on her, why did she leave?”
Pearl hesitated. “Well now, there are some things we can only speculate about.”
Esmerelda took that as a hint that she shouldn’t pry, and she nodded. She wasn’t the type who needed every last bit of gossip. In fact, she did quite well without it because it was a decided waste of time.
She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the office door, feeling as though she was about to enter a lion’s den, but knowing she must do what was necessary for her assignment.
A man with disheveled auburn hair and a beard sat behind the large desk in the room, papers strewn in front of him. He held a pen in one hand and a ruler in the other, and he was obviously looking for a certain sheet with no success.
Esmerelda walked up to the desk. “Good morning, sir. My name is Agent Esmerelda Carter, and I’m here from the Chicago office. Did you receive the telegram about my arrival?”
He looked up at her and squinted one eye. “Telegram? What telegram?”
“The one informing you of my arrival, sir.”
“Pearl!”
Esmerelda jumped back as Agent Gordon bellowed.
The housekeeper entered the office. “Yes, sir?”
“Did I get a telegram about . . .”
“Agent Carter,” Esmerelda supplied.
“Yes, yes, that’s right. Did I get a telegram about Agent Carter?”
“You’ve received several telegrams, sir, but I don’t read your correspondence, so I can’t say whether or not you got one about Agent Carter.”
“Gah!” He slapped both hands on the desk, letting go of the things he was holding. “How’s a man supposed to function like this?”
He wasn’t. That was plain. It was also plain that this chaos was of his own making. Unable to tolerate it a single moment longer, Esmerelda took a step forward and began to tidy the papers on the desk, talking as she worked. “Perhaps I can
explain my reasons for being here while we look for the telegram. I was sent here by my superiors to team up with one of your agents for an undercover case. We have reason to believe that one of our agents in the Santa Fe office has gone missing, and we’ve been asked to investigate and see if this is actually the case. There have been rumors of a political uprising in the area, and it’s feared that he is a casualty. It’s quite a bit more complex than that, I’m sure you understand, but that will do for a quick summary.”
As she spoke, Esmerelda had been categorizing the papers, putting case files together and organizing them by date, and placing the telegrams in one separate stack. As she concluded her summary, she handed Agent Gordon the telegram he’d received from her supervisor.
He took it from her outstretched hand, glanced at it, then blinked. “You’re quite an expert in office management, Agent Carter. I don’t suppose you’d like to change your assignment and become my new assistant.”
“No, thank you, sir. I’m a field agent through and through, and not only that, but you need to get your previous assistant back here as soon as possible. I fear not only for your mental health, but for the fire hazard being presented by this completely unkempt office.” She hadn’t been offered a seat yet, but she took one anyway and fixed her gaze at him across the desk. “Now that you have my credentials, when do I meet my groom?”
He blinked. “Your groom?”
“Yes. I understand this office has developed the somewhat unorthodox policy of marrying off female agents to the male agents in order to preserve reputations and so forth. I’m not in the slightest bit worried about my reputation—I never have cared what other people think about me—but I do need help from your office, and if that’s your policy, so be it.” She paused, but he didn’t reply. “Did I misunderstand something, Agent Gordon? Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? No, no . . . not in the slightest. I’m just not used to young ladies presenting themselves in my office ready to get married. It usually takes a bit of persuasion.”
“Except for those silly girls who showed up last year thinking we were a matrimonial service,” Pearl said from the spot she’d taken up by the door. “Miss Chapman sent them packing rather quickly.”
“I can’t imagine why they would think we’re in the business of marriage,” Agent Gordon said. “We solve crime, not matters of loneliness.”
“You have to admit, Agent Gordon, that you do broker marriages, whether that’s your stated intention or not,” Esmerelda pointed out. “And whether or not I marry your agent, I do need to meet him so we can begin discussing our case. Given that my telegram went missing on your desk, shall I assume that you haven’t had the chance to assign me a partner?”
Agent Gordon sat back with a loud exhale. “Agent Carter, your assumptions are correct, and I apologize. This office used to be run at the peak of precision, but now, most days I’m surprised I manage to put on my trousers correctly. Are you willing to extend me one day’s worth of patience while I look over our current cases and assign you one of our free agents?”
“Yes, that would be all right. I do hope it doesn’t take longer than one day, however. My supervisor is most anxious that we be on our way to locate that missing agent.”
“I understand.” Agent Gordon gave a nod. “Pearl, would you please get Agent Carter settled and made comfortable while I look things over?”
“Of course.” Pearl held out her arm to the door. “Come with me—let’s get you set to rights.”
Esmerelda glanced over her shoulder once as she was leaving the office. Agent Gordon looked flat-out dejected, as though he’d just lost his puppy in a rainstorm. It was easy enough to guess that he was in love with Miss Chapman, and that for whatever reason, they were choosing to be apart. Well, that was nonsense. They needed to put aside whatever was bothering them, and the sooner the better.
Pearl led the way upstairs. “This was Miss Chapman’s room,” she said, opening a door. “It’s the largest of our spare rooms, and I believe you’ll be quite comfortable here. Your bag has already been delivered, I see.”
“It won’t bother Agent Gordon that I’m staying here?” Esmerelda asked.
“He doesn’t concern himself over things like that, and besides, we won’t tell him,” Pearl replied with a smile. “I’ll be back in a moment with some fresh water for the basin, and you can hang up your clothes and make yourself at home. Supper’s not for a bit yet, but I’d be more than happy to make you a tray.”
“Under ordinary circumstances, I’d tell you not to trouble yourself, but I admit, that would be nice,” Esmerelda replied.
“Then I’ll take care of it right away, and it’s no trouble.”
Pearl left the door slightly ajar when she left. Esmerelda closed it, then walked around, touching the edges of the furniture. A glance out the window told her how high up she was, and it made her feel ever so slightly dizzy.
She hung up her things, knowing she’d just be packing them again before long, and then Pearl was back, a tray in her hands.
“That was quick,” Esmerelda said, holding the door open as Pearl maneuvered through.
“I’ve had a great deal of practice.” Pearl set the tray on the vanity table, moved the full water pitcher she’d brought over to the washbasin, then turned back to Esmerelda. “I brought some tea, a few sandwiches, some cakes, and a bit of cheese. And there’s plenty more downstairs if you think you’ll still be hungry.”
Esmerelda smiled as she looked over the contents of the tray. “I can’t imagine that I would be. This looks delicious—thank you.”
“My pleasure. Feel free to wander the grounds once you’ve freshened up—we have some lovely gardens. I would avoid the agents’ barracks out back, though—they’re men, you see, and housekeeping isn’t very high on their list of priorities. I believe Miss Chapman threatened to burn the place to the ground once.”
“I’ll avoid it most carefully. Thank you, Pearl.”
The housekeeper went on her way after telling Esmerelda what time to expect dinner. The tea smelled delicious, and Esmerelda sipped at her cup while trying to decide if she should start with a sandwich or a cake. The scant breakfast she’d had at the hotel that morning could hardly be called a meal at all—it had been little more than dry toast and watery milk, and she wasn’t one of those fashionable women who were scared to admit they were hungry.
Once she’d eaten her fill and left a tray of crumbs in her wake, she lay down for a few minutes, thinking that a nap might refresh her. But the promise of the gardens intrigued her, and she got back up again, curious to learn more about this place where she’d be staying while Agent Gordon figured out what was what.
The gardens were every bit as nice as Pearl had said. A stone path cut between the bushes and the flower beds, and there were just enough benches here and there that a person could stop and rest and take in the beauty around them. She chose a spot near a bush of yellow tea roses and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun as she inhaled the scent of the flowers. Yellow tea roses in the sunshine had to be one of the most glorious things in the world.
Her eyes popped open at the sound of male voices approaching.
“You couldn’t have known he was armed,” one of the men was saying.
“But I should have assumed. I’m just glad you were there to back me up.”
“That’s what I’m here for—leaping in to save the day.”
They rounded the curve in the path and came into view. Esmerelda gave them a cordial smile. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.”
“Good afternoon,” they replied in chorus, touching the brims of their hats.
“We weren’t expecting company today, were we?” the shorter of the two asked.
“Doesn’t matter—we get some anyway.” The taller man took a step forward and gave a slight bow. “Matthew Harrison, ma’am, and this is Michael Durango.”
“Esmerelda Carter. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She inclined her head slightly, and they respond
ed in kind.
“Forgive us—we were just discussing the details of a case we wrapped up this morning,” Agent Durango said. “We won’t bore you with it.”
“On the contrary,” she replied. “I love the details of cases. That’s partly why I became an agent myself.”
“You’re an agent?” The shock and surprise on Agent Durango’s face was comical, to say the least.
“I am. Based out of the Chicago office.”
“Welcome to Denver,” Agent Harrison said. “What brings you here?”
“I’m borrowing an agent for a case, you might say,” she replied. “Agent Gordon is finalizing the paperwork now.” She thought that sounded better than, Agent Gordon is muttering to himself while flinging things all over his desk and frightening small children.
“Well, hope you enjoy your time here,” Agent Durango said. “If you’ll excuse us, we need to go check in.”
“Of course.” She waited until they had entered the back door of the building, then turned her face to the sun again. Its warmth relaxed her and helped her breathe deeply. She would need to store up as much relaxation as she could get to see her through the next several days, she was quite sure of it. She might even need extra reserves just to make it through this period of time with Agent Gordon. She preferred things to be run in a crisp, efficient manner, and everything so far at the Denver office had been the complete opposite.
***
Matthew Harrison settled into one of the chairs across from Agent Gordon’s desk and watched, amused, as Archie rummaged through his desk drawer for a pencil. When at last he found what he wanted, Archie sat up straight and looked at the two men expectantly. Matthew waved at Michael to proceed.
“We located the missing necklace last night at eight thirty. It had been tucked away in the base of a potted plant, waiting to be retrieved by the thief. The culprit, the housemaid Sally, was apprehended when she came to fetch the necklace, and she confessed to the previous thefts of a ring, two bracelets, and a set of hair combs, all stolen over the course of the last month.”
Archie nodded, making a note on the paper in front of him.
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