An Agent for Alexina

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An Agent for Alexina Page 2

by Laura Beers


  Alexina found herself relaxing. Mr. Pinkerton had only transferred men to the Denver office since the Female Detective Bureau was located in Chicago.

  Mr. Hopkins cleared his throat, and he almost appeared nervous, which she thought was ridiculous.

  “You are an excellent agent. Perhaps one of the best we have in the Chicago office.” He studied her for a moment. “But I’ve decided to transfer you to the Denver office.” His voice was firm.

  Her lips parted in surprise. She hadn’t expected that piece of information. “What? Why?” she asked.

  “I considered many factors as I came to my decision,” he explained. “Familial connections, homes, length of employment…”

  Alexina rose from her chair. “I have worked in this office since I was eighteen years old,” she declared. “This is my home.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s a place of business.” He pursed his lips before asking, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but do you have any family in Chicago?”

  I have no family, she wanted to shout. Instead, she replied calmly, “You know I do not.”

  “Any in the surrounding areas?”

  She shook her head.

  “Do you have any commitments that I am not aware of that require you to stay in Chicago?”

  Again, she shook her head.

  He leaned forward in his seat. “You rent a room from an elderly woman, and I suspect you don’t maintain friendships with other women in town.”

  “I’m busy working,” she said. “I don’t have time to make friends.”

  He gave her a pointed look. “I daresay that your last friend was Kate Warne, and she died five years ago.”

  “That was different,” she huffed. “Kate was my mentor. She hired me as a Pinkerton agent when no one else would give me the time of day.”

  Mr. Hopkins looked at her with an expression that was a mixture of pity and compassion. “You’re an extraordinary agent, but you’re reckless. Dangerous.”

  “That’s not…”

  He put his hand up to stop her. “Your track record is impeccable. You’ve closed every case we’ve given you, and you’ve done so in record time. Your methods may be impulsive, but they work. You’re an asset to this agency.”

  “Then why am I being transferred?” she asked curtly.

  Placing his elbow on the arm of his chair, Mr. Hopkins rubbed his forehead. “Because Mr. Pinkerton and I believe that the Denver office might be a better fit for you,” he said.

  “Mr. Pinkerton wants me at the Denver office?” she asked in disbelief. Did this company have no loyalty toward her? She’d worked hard for the past ten years to become one of the best agents at the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and now they planned to just cast her aside?

  “We’re not betraying you,” Mr. Hopkin surprised her by saying. “In fact, I’ve had to fire multiple agents, but I would never do that to you.”

  She met his gaze. “I don’t want to go to Denver. Chicago is my home.”

  “Did you grow up in Chicago?”

  “I did not,” she replied, shifting her gaze to the window.

  “Where did you grow up?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Blast it, Alexina!” he exclaimed. “You need to trust people with your past.”

  “Why, exactly? Will it make me a better agent?” she asked, bringing her defiant gaze back to his.

  He grunted. “No, but it will make you a better human being.”

  An awkward silence descended over them. It was broken when Mr. Hopkins said, “You have two options: transfer to Denver, or you’ll be fired.”

  “You would fire me?” she asked, her voice rising.

  “If you choose to go to Denver, just know that this isn’t a permanent move,” he explained in a calm tone. “Once our caseload picks up, then you can move back to Chicago. It could be weeks or months, but probably not more than a year.”

  Gripping her reticule tightly in her lap, she responded through gritted teeth, “If those are my only two choices, I suppose I will need a train ticket to Denver.”

  “That pleases me,” Mr. Hopkins sighed. “The Denver office is run by Archie Gordon…”

  She spoke over him. “I know Archie. Did you forget that I used to work with him?”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “Not so long ago.”

  Reaching into the file in front of him, Mr. Hopkins extended a stack of papers toward her. “As a show of our gratitude, we’ve booked you a ticket to Denver in a Pullman car. You’ll be riding first class.”

  “Thank you,” she replied, secretly pleased at that gift. However, she couldn’t very well show her gratitude. She accepted the papers, including the train ticket.

  “We’ve wired Archie to let him know he can expect you in a few days.”

  She rose from her seat. “Is there anything else?”

  “I promise that this is not a punishment,” he remarked, his eyes tracking her.

  Tapping her foot on the carpet, she responded, “I’m afraid I have much to pack and apparently very little time to do so.”

  “Alexina…”

  “Don’t say anything!” she exclaimed. “I have given everything to the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and now I am being cast aside.”

  Mr. Hopkins rose from his chair. “That’s not what is happening here. You may find that you prefer the Denver office.”

  She looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Who in their right mind would prefer the wilds of Denver to the great city of Chicago?”

  “Just give it a chance… please,” he pleaded.

  “Fine,” she conceded. “But I have every intention of returning back to Chicago.”

  He gave her a weak smile. “And I intend for you to return as well.”

  Holding up her train ticket, she acknowledged, “Thank you for the first-class ticket. It will be a nice change from the passenger car I am used to taking.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied, his smile growing.

  Before she did something crazy like smile back, she remarked, “I should go.” She turned and walked to the door.

  Once her hand was on the handle, Mr. Hopkins’ voice stopped her. “Try not to get yourself killed, Alexina.”

  “I can’t promise anything, Adam.”

  “Let’s hope Denver is ready for you.” He chuckled.

  Alexina returned his smile very briefly before she exited the room and murmured her goodbyes to Mrs. Reeves as she stormed out the door. It would have been polite to explain what had transpired in Mr. Hopkins’ office, but she wasn’t in a talkative mood. Besides, she would be back shortly.

  It shouldn’t matter what office she operated out of, but it did to her. Her small rented room wasn’t much to most people, but it was hers, and she didn’t have very many things she could truly call her own.

  Stopping at the bottom of the steps, she turned and faced the unassuming brick building. This had been her home for the past ten years; her safe haven. Now, she was being transferred to the West.

  Alexina would go to Denver and continue rounding up the bad guys, because that’s who she was. She would bide her time until she could return home to Chicago.

  2

  Standing outside the Denver office with a carpetbag in her left hand, Alexina sighed. This was her life now, albeit temporarily. She raised her hand and knocked on the blue-painted door.

  The door opened, and a red-haired woman with kind eyes peered out. “May I help you?”

  Not one to smile at the first opportunity, Alexina kept her face expressionless. “My name is Alexina Kimball. I believe Mr. Gordon is expecting me.”

  “Agent Kimball, please come in,” the woman said, opening the door wide and ushering her in. “Archie wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

  “I’ve only just come from the train station,” Alexina replied, stepping into the entry. “I wasn’t sure if the Denver office had a dormitory available to its agents, or if I should check into a hotel.”


  “We do have a dormitory, but it’s filled with male agents, and quite frankly, it’s no place for a lady,” the woman commented, perusing her blue-striped bodice and narrowed front skirt. “Especially not for one as lovely as you.”

  “Can you recommend a hotel, then?”

  The woman’s eyes seemed to light up with excitement. “You are welcome to stay here until we find you a place to rent.”

  “I couldn’t possibly impose…”

  “Nonsense,” she replied, “us women have to stick together.”

  Being around this woman with her infectious personality, Alexina found herself relaxing. “I appreciate your kindness.”

  “My name is Marianne, and I’m Archie’s assistant.” She glanced down curiously at Alexina’s carpetbag. “Did you leave a trunk at the station?”

  Alexina lifted her carpetbag higher. “I don’t own very much, and it all fits inside this bag.”

  Marianne lifted her brow in surprise. “Good heavens, you must be a very practical woman.”

  “I don’t require much,” she answered honestly. “Besides, I purchase what I need while on assignment, and then I usually sell back the more ornate gowns.”

  “You don’t keep them?”

  “I have kept one for emergencies,” Alexina explained. “In Chicago, I would borrow a gown from a local dress shop when I was required to attend fancy balls, parties, or soirées.”

  “You’d borrow a gown?”

  Adjusting her hold on her carpetbag, Alexina responded, “The owner of the shop and I were friends, and we struck up an agreement.”

  “You must have some amazing stories, Miss Kimball,” Marianne remarked with a hint of awe in her voice.

  “I do,” she stated. “But you must call me Alexina.”

  “Come. Follow me,” Marianne said as she turned to walk down a hallway.

  Alexina took a moment to admire the feminine touches of the Denver office, the paintings on the wall and lacy tablecloths. The smell of freshly baked bread filled the home, and she pressed her right hand to her stomach. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that exact moment.

  Stopping at a closed door, Marianne knocked before she opened it.

  A man’s exasperated voice came from inside the room. “You can’t keep barging into my office, Marianne.”

  “Miss Alexina Kimball is here to see you,” Marianne replied in a cheery voice, ignoring the gruff tone.

  “Send her in.”

  That was her cue. Alexina kept her head held high as she walked into Mr. Gordon’s study. Her eyes landed on a familiar face, and a genuine smile came to her lips. Archie was exactly how she remembered him, bright red hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and broad shoulders. Even his blue suit appeared familiar.

  “Alexina, it’s good to see you,” Archie said, standing behind his desk.

  Marianne glanced between them. “You two know each other?”

  Archie nodded. “We worked a few cases together back when I was at the Chicago office.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that,” Marianne murmured, appearing displeased.

  Turning his gaze toward his assistant, Archie asked, “Can you bring in some refreshments for Alexina? I am sure she’s famished after her long train ride.”

  “That’s so thoughtful of you,” Alexina commented. “I am rather hungry.”

  “I’ll bring in some tea, bread, and hopefully a few cookies. After your meeting, our cook will prepare a more nourishing meal for you,” Marianne said in a strained tone, walking back to the door.

  “Thank you,” Alexina replied.

  Marianne had a barely discernable frown on her lips as she closed the door behind her. Alexina turned her expectant gaze toward Archie, and she saw that he was still smiling back at her.

  “I must admit that I was pleased when I got the wire that you were being transferred to the Denver office,” Archie stated, gesturing toward a chair, indicating she should sit.

  Alexina walked over to the chair and dropped her carpet bag before sitting down. “I was not as eager to make the move.”

  “No doubt,” he replied. “But if I recall, you were always on assignment and rarely in Chicago anyway.”

  “That’s because of the war. There were so many cases, we could scarcely manage.”

  Archie chuckled. “Didn’t you work for a time as a laundress to General Nathaniel Banks? That poor bloke couldn’t figure out why he kept losing battles.”

  “He was an unassuming man, but he’s a better politician than he was a general,” she acknowledged.

  “What have you been doing since the war?”

  She shrugged. “The usual cases, I suppose.”

  “I understand your last case was particularly rough on you.”

  “Who told you that?” she asked, frowning.

  “Hopkins.”

  Alexina waved her hand dismissively in front of her. “Hopkins is prone to exaggeration. It was a regular case, nothing more.”

  “I just worry…”

  “I’m fine, Archie,” she declared, cutting him off. “I don’t know why Hopkins is making such a big deal out of that case. I’ve killed men and women before, and I daresay that takes a greater toll on a person.”

  Archie gave her a look filled with compassion. “I’m going to take you at your word. I can’t have an agent go out into the field while still struggling to cope with a past assignment.”

  “Have you ever known me to be anything but professional?” Alexina challenged.

  “No, I suppose not.” He reached for a paper on his desk. “We have a new recruit coming into the office today. His name is Dawson Wayne. He was a former deputy in a small mining town known as Copperdale.” He brought his gaze up. “I’d like you to train him.”

  She bobbed her head. “I could do that.”

  “I know you can,” he acknowledged. “Hopkins informed me that you’ve trained both male and female agents in Chicago.”

  “That’s right.”

  He shifted his gaze to somewhere over her shoulder. “We do things slightly differently here in Denver when it comes to training new agents.”

  “Different? In what way?”

  Archie swiped a hand over his chin. “Mr. Pinkerton asked us to hire female agents, but most lacked the training that typically accompanies a new recruit. So, we partner the new female agent with an experienced male agent.”

  “I understand. That practice is common in Chicago, as well,” she said, not understanding the hesitancy in his voice.

  “Yes, well, here…” His voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and continued. “We require you to be married to your partner.”

  “What! Are you mad?” she shouted, jumping up from her chair.

  He put his hands up in front of him. “I understand your hostility, but I can’t offer you an exception. It wouldn’t be fair to the other female agents.”

  “You want me to marry my partner?” she asked in disbelief.

  Archie rose from his seat, placed his hands on the table, and leaned over it. “Only until you sufficiently train Mr. Wayne, which is typically one case. Then, you can get an annulment.”

  “An annulment?” Alexina questioned. “What hogwash are you spewing, Archie?” She took a step closer to the desk. “I have worked with male agents before, and we were not required to be married.”

  “Be that as it may, you’re in Denver now, and here, it’s required that all female agents marry their trainers,” he explained.

  “But I am the trainer,” she countered.

  “True, but I can’t make an exception, Alexina,” he replied with a frustrated sigh.

  “How easy is it to get an annulment?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

  “Very easy, or so I’ve been told,” Archie rushed to assure her.

  “You don’t know?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “None of the agents have applied for an annulment.”

  “Not one? Out of how many?” she huffed.

  Archie paus
ed. “Forty-one.”

  She lifted her brows in surprise. “How is that possible?”

  “Frankly,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I’m as surprised as you are. Most have continued working as a team, but a few have retired to seek employment elsewhere.”

  “I, most assuredly, will not stay married to some man I just met,” she asserted.

  “I would expect that to be the case.”

  She dropped her hands off her hips. “Why can’t I just start training the female agents, and we can forget all this marriage business?”

  “Because,” Archie said, reaching for a file off his desk, “we have several cases that require a male and female agent.” He held it up. “Your case is one of those.”

  Turning away from him, Alexina couldn’t seem to believe her misfortune. First, she’d been transferred to Denver, and now she was expected to marry the man she was going to train. What an asinine idea! She’d worked with male partners before… heck, she’d even worked with Archie before.

  Sadly, she didn’t have a choice, which irked her even more. If she refused to marry her partner, she’d be out of a job. She certainly couldn’t afford to do that.

  Turning to face Archie, she attempted to keep the grimace off her face. “When do I get to meet my new partner?”

  Dressed in his finest gray suit, Dawson Wayne was whistling a cheery tune as he headed toward the Pinkerton Detective Agency. His dream of becoming a Pinkerton agent was finally coming to fruition. Nothing was going to dampen his spirits today.

  For eight years, he’d been a deputy in the small mining town of Copperdale, but he had always craved more excitement in his life. He was confident that being a Pinkerton agent would fill that void. Unfortunately, his application had been rejected many times over the years, and Mr. Gordon never cited a reason. He’d almost given up his dream and accepted a position as sheriff in a nearby town. However, he decided to wire his application one more time.

  Stopping in front of the Pinkerton Detective Agency building, he knocked loudly.

 

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