An Agent for Rosalie (The Pinkerton Matchmaker Series Book 26) Read online

  Other published stories from Laura Beers

  The Beckett Files Series

  Regency Spy Romances

  Saving Shadow

  A Peculiar Courtship

  To Love a Spy

  A Tangled Ruse

  A Deceptive Bargain

  The Baron’s Daughter

  COMING SOON- The Unfortunate Debutante

  Pinkerton Matchmaking Series

  An Agent for Audrey

  An Agent for Darcy

  Twickenham Time Travel Series

  An Unexpected Gentleman

  COMING SOON- An Unwanted Suitor

  Ladies of Miss Bell’s Finishing School

  The Heiress

  An Agent for Rosalie

  The Pinkerton Matchmaking Series Book #26

  By:

  Laura Beers

  Copyright © 2019 by Laura Beers

  Cover Art by Virginia McKevitt

  Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  A Note to Our Readers

  Even though this book is a work of fiction, the Pinkerton Agents and their exploits are very real.

  Allan Pinkerton, a Scottish immigrant, and Edward Rucker, a Chicago attorney, started the North-Western Police Agency in the early 1850s. It later became the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

  Established in the U.S. by Allan Pinkerton in 1855, the Pinkerton National Detective Agency was a private security guard and detective agency. Pinkerton agents were hired as both bodyguards and detectives by corporations and individuals. They were active in stopping strikes, illegal operations, guarding train shipments, and searching for Western outlaws such as the James and Younger gangs.

  Pinkerton agents were known to be tough yet honest. For the most part, they followed local and state laws. However, as with most situations, a few were known to be ruthless. Local law didn’t always approve of having an agent in town since they could investigate more fully than the sheriff. Going undercover gave the agents greater leeway for investigations but could also lead to corruption and violence.

  As the West became more settled, crime increased, and local authorities were at times overwhelmed. It was not uncommon for Pinkerton agents to be hired to track down the worst of these criminals. Not encumbered by state or local boundaries, the agents followed and pursued their quarry where the clues led them.

  The Pinkerton Agency was also one of the first companies to hire women. Kate Warne led the way for the women agents that followed her.

  As the case load grew, new offices were established around the country, with the main office in Chicago, Illinois.

  We created this series with these heroic men and women in mind. These are works of our imagination and no way reflect the true cases or activities that the Pinkerton Agency may have engaged in.

  These are our stories of the men and women that braved danger and love to bring their own brand of justice.

  The Pinkerton Code

  Allan Pinkerton's agents were required to comply with a specific code of conduct while working for the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

  According to the agency's records, agents were to have no addiction to "drinking, smoking, card playing, low dives or slang".

  Additionally, a Pinkerton agent …

  Could not accept bribes

  May never compromise with criminals

  Should willingly partner with local law enforcement

  Must refuse divorce cases or those initiating scandal

  Would be expected to turn down reward money

  Cannot raise fees without client’s prior knowledge

  Should keep clients appraised on an on-going basis

  The Denver Tribune Editorials

  Sat. April 22, 1871

  Female Agents to join National Detective Agency.

  Help Wanted: female agents to join the National Pinkerton Detective Agency

  Seven years ago, the National Pinkerton Detective Agency moved into the new office location at 427 Chain Bridge Road, Denver, Colorado Territory. Since then stories have swirled of brave men solving crimes and fighting for justice.

  But a new time has evolved, and the agency is now seeking able-bodied women to join the ranks of private investigations.

  We need daring women who seek adventure and are of sound mind and body. You will help the criminal elements answer for their crimes and secure safety for their victims.

  You will train with an existing agent, and after your first case, you will earn the rank of private detective. Paid training, transportation, uniforms, and accommodations will be provided. You will become a part of a noble profession and pave the way into the future.

  This editorial has been placed in newspapers throughout the nation, so the quickest responses are appreciated.

  Please send inquiries and a list of skills to Mr. A. Gordon at the above noted address. Interviews will occur on the premises the week of May 16, 1871.

  Ed.

  An Agent for Rosalie

  The Pinkerton Matchmaking Series

  Chapter 1

  Colorado, 1872

  Wearing a mid-length, bright red gown, Rosalie Addis lifted her bell-shaped skirt a little higher to reveal a blue petticoat adorned with tassels. She smiled coyly into the weathered face of the rangy middle-aged cowboy. His darkened eyes raked over her body, and she saw pure, unadulterated desire in them. Now she had him right where she wanted him.

  She’d been tracking this man all over the Colorado Territory. Finally, she’d received a tip that he frequented a brothel known as The Lonely Woman in the small, one-horse town of Silver Water, Colorado. His name was Seth Boswell, and he used to be part of the gang of criminals that murdered her father.

  Nothing had been left to chance since she started staking out the brothel. Rosalie quickly discovered that Seth was feared by the girls because of his rough treatment of them. When she approached Mrs. Townsend, the madam of the brothel, and explained that she was a bounty hunter sent to apprehend Seth Boswell, the lady practically wept with joy. Together, they hatched a plan to have Seth arrested without alerting the other customers.

  Standing in the overly-furnished, excessively-decorated drawing room of the brothel, Rosalie was standing in a line of women, waiting to be inspected by Mr. Boswell. Her borrowed ruffled gown may have had a risqué neckline, but she refused to paint her face as Mrs. Townsend had recommended. To ensure her protection, there was a dagger in her left kid boot and a derringer tucked in the right one.

  Moving to stand next to Mr. Boswell, Mrs. Townsend asked in a cheery voice, “Have you selected a young lady for the evening?”

  Seth’s eyes lowered until they were fixed on the provocative neckline of Rosalie’s gown. His tongue darted back and forth over his chapped lips. “I want the new girl.”

  Mrs. Townsend made a clucking noise. “Excellent choice,” she stated. “We have changed our policy, and we now require payment upfront. You understand, Mr. Boswell, don’t you?”

  Shoving his hand into the pocket of his blue worn vest, he pulled out a few bills and extended them toward the madam. “I want her for the whole evening.”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Townsend replied, depositing the money into the pocket of her dress. “Need I rem
ind you that you are not allowed to beat my girls?”

  “She is mine to do with as I please,” Seth grumbled, his hand moving to rest on his gun belt.

  Mrs. Townsend cast him a look of frustration. “You beat the last girl so badly that she couldn’t work for the rest of the week.”

  Ignoring the madam, Seth approached Rosalie and asked, “Want to show me to your room, little lady?”

  “I would be honored,” Rosalie responded in a sultry voice, slipping her gloved hand into his calloused one. She led him toward a room near the back on the first floor and closed the door behind them. “Can I get you a drink, mister?” she asked, dropping his hand and sashaying over to the drink tray on the dresser.

  She heard him kick off his boots and drop his gun belt to the floor with a thud. Men were so predictable, she thought.

  “I just want you,” he declared as he dropped his trousers.

  Rosalie kept the smile on her face as she turned back around to face him. Not surprisingly, Mr. Boswell was standing there in just his union suit.

  “I propose we play a game first,” she suggested flirtatiously.

  “I like games,” he responded in a husky voice.

  “Good. I promise you’ll like this one.” She grabbed a chair and placed it in front of him. “Sit.”

  Seth sat down in the chair. “What’s next?”

  Pulling out a bandana from her pocket, Rosalie explained, “Now, I am going to blindfold you.”

  “This just got interesting,” he said with a smile.

  Rosalie trailed a hand over his shoulder as she walked behind him and secured the blindfold over his eyes. Leaning closer to his ear, she ignored the foul body odor emanating from his person, as she whispered, “You have been a bad man.” She slid her hand into the pocket of her gown and slowly pulled out a set of iron handcuffs. “I am going to have to teach you a lesson.”

  “Yes, please,” Seth responded with a catch in his voice.

  She trailed her finger down his right arm and tightened the handcuff onto his wrist.

  Seth cocked his head. “What are you doing?”

  “You are going to be my prisoner,” she answered in a pouty voice.

  He chuckled as she trailed her finger down his left arm, seductively pulling it behind his back, then securing the cuff to his left wrist.

  When she heard the click of the handcuff locking, Rosalie shuddered and stepped back. She had a sudden urge for a nice long bath after being so close to Mr. Boswell.

  “Where did you go?” Seth asked, turning his head from side to side.

  She didn’t bother to answer him as she retrieved the revolver from his gun belt and thoroughly searched his clothing for any additional weapons. Once she was satisfied that this was his only weapon, she placed the gun on the dressing table.

  “What are you doing?” Seth cried out as he rose quickly, nearly losing his balance with his hands behind his back. “This ain’t funny.”

  Rolling her eyes, Rosalie recognized that this man didn’t have a lick of sense. She walked over and shoved him back down onto the seat. “I am a bounty hunter, and you have been caught,” she announced, reaching down to retrieve her derringer.

  “Release me! I ain’t done nothin’ wrong.”

  She pulled off the blindfold and pressed the barrel of her derringer to his forehead. “Where is Bill Garrett?”

  “Who?” he asked with a tremor in his voice.

  “Fine. Don’t cooperate,” she sighed. “It doesn’t hurt my feelings.”

  “You got some nerve, lady.” Seth turned his head and spat at her.

  Rosalie took her red-gloved hand and wiped away his spit from her cheek. “Your poster said you were wanted dead or alive. I am happy to turn over your corpse for the reward money.”

  “I am going to kill you when I get these cuffs off,” Seth declared, wringing his hands back and forth in the handcuffs.

  Grabbing his arm, Rosalie forced him to rise and jabbed the gun against his ribs. “Spare me your dramatics, Mr. Boswell. You are in your underwear, and the sheriff is waiting right outside the back door to take you to jail.”

  Seth started shouting expletives and attempted to step out of her tight grip as she opened the door.

  “This is your last warning,” she stated in a firm tone. “I have no issue with shooting off your fingers… one at a time.”

  “When I get out…”

  Rosalie spoke over him. “Your threats are boring me. You are going to hang for your crimes, and I will have a front row seat.”

  “What do you know about my crimes?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

  She met his gaze, unflinchingly. “You killed Sheriff Addis.”

  “Who?” he scoffed, but she saw the flicker of fear in his eyes.

  Rosalie knew he was baiting her. He wanted her to make a mistake. But she did not make mistakes. Not anymore.

  “Playtime is over, Mr. Boswell,” she proclaimed, shoving him toward the back door. “I hope you enjoy the noose.”

  Mrs. Townsend appeared from a side room and opened the back door, revealing Sheriff Vance standing guard.

  Seth stopped short, feigning outrage. “I can’t go outside. I’m not even dressed.”

  “I’ll take it from here, Miss Addis,” Sheriff Vance said as he stepped inside and grabbed the prisoner’s arm. “I have your reward money at my office. Would you like to collect it now?”

  Rosalie glanced down at her red gown. “I would very much like to change first, but I will be along shortly.”

  The sheriff nodded his understanding before he dragged Seth out into the alleyway.

  Turning toward the madam, she reached into a pocket and pulled out a few bills. “This was our agreed upon price for your cooperation.”

  Mrs. Townsend shook her head. “You did us the favor, Miss Addis. Good riddance to that horrid man.”

  “Thank you for helping me bring that man to justice,” she acknowledged, smiling gratefully.

  “It was my pleasure,” the madam replied.

  Rosalie went back to the room to change, knowing one more member of the gang that killed her father would face justice. She had spent the past four years tracking down these men, one-by-one. She would never stop until they paid for their sins.

  They hadn’t shown her father any mercy when they gunned him down in the middle of the street, in broad daylight. And she intended to repay the favor.

  Dressed in a dark blue, well-fitted, bodice jacket with a matching ruffled skirt, Rosalie stepped into Sheriff Vance’s office at the edge of the small town. A desk sat in the middle of the room and a jail cell ran along the length of the back wall.

  “Miss Addis, thank you for stopping by,” the middle-aged sheriff said, rising from his chair, his brown hair sticking out from under his black Stetson. “You are looking especially lovely this afternoon.”

  Rosalie gave him a gracious smile. “Thank you. I am glad to be back in my own clothes.”

  Pulling out a desk drawer, Sheriff Vance reached in and pulled out a wad of bills. “Here’s your reward money for the capture of Seth Boswell.”

  A loud humph came from the jail cell before the prisoner rolled to his side on the cot.

  “It would appear that Mr. Boswell is not pleased about being behind bars,” Sheriff Vance joked.

  She accepted the money and placed it into the reticule tied around her wrist. “Thank you again for your assistance.”

  “It was no trouble at all.” He came around his desk, his eyes focused on her. “May I buy you supper, Miss Addis?”

  Reminding herself that women were scarce in these parts, Rosalie attempted to appear flattered by his offer. “I appreciate the kind offer, but I really should be on my way.”

  “Another time, perhaps,” he said, disappointment crossing his features.

  Murmuring her goodbye, Rosalie exited the sheriff’s office and walked down the dirt road toward the plain, two-story boarding house. The town wasn’t large enough to have a hotel, but it did
have a restaurant, mercantile, and a post office.

  She walked into the boarding house, causing the bell hung above the door to jingle. She smelled the most delightful aroma of freshly baked bread. Mrs. Tyson walked into the foyer, her white hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a floral apron tied around her waist. “You are back. I have the most delightful news.”

  “Which is?” Rosalie asked while removing her gloves and placing them in her right hand. She had spent the past week with the widowed Mrs. Tyson, and she had enjoyed her time with the aging proprietress immensely.

  “We have a new boarder, and the handsome man has agreed to join us for supper.”

  Rosalie attempted to show excitement for her kind hostess, but it fell flat. “I am looking forward to it,” she lied.

  Perhaps it would be best if she just ate supper in her room. She could always pretend to have a headache.

  “Do you still intend to leave tomorrow?” Mrs. Tyson asked her.

  “I do,” she confirmed. “It is time to move on.”

  A male voice came from the drawing room. “To where, exactly?”

  Rosalie recognized that rich, baritone voice; she had heard it in her dreams often enough. Why would Paden Brooks be here, in the town of Silver Water, of all places?

  The sound of booted footsteps came closer to her, but she didn’t dare turn to face him. If it was him, she wasn’t prepared to see him after four years.

  Mrs. Tyson walked closer to her. “Rosalie, dear, allow me to introduce you to Mr. Paden Brooks.”

  Rosalie closed her eyes. This couldn’t be happening. How did he find her?

  “Actually, Miss Addis and I are already acquainted,” Paden admitted, moving to stand next to her.

  “Is that so?” Mrs. Tyson asked, glancing curiously between them.