An Agent for Audrey Page 4

  Warren’s voice broke through her musings. “If you insist on sighing as you stare at me, then I must assume that you find me devastatingly handsome,” he remarked dryly, pushing up his hat, and giving her a wink.

  Embarrassed at being caught staring, Audrey diverted her gaze back toward the window. Acutely aware that Warren was now staring at her, she looked back at him and asked, “Do you mind?”

  He gave her a flirtatious grin. “I am enjoying the view.”

  “No, you are attempting to flirt with me… and very poorly, I might add.”

  “I disagree,” he said smoothly. “Besides, we need to start acting as man and wife or else no one will believe this ruse.”

  Audrey eyed him suspiciously. “What are you proposing?”

  Leaning forward, Warren reached for her hand, but she jerked her ungloved hand back. “What do you think you are doing?”

  He smiled. “I believe it is fairly obvious that I am attempting to hold your hand.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am your husband.”

  “Fake husband,” she corrected as she started putting her gloves back on.

  Warren reached out and took her now-gloved hand, wrapping it tightly in both of his calloused ones. “A husband would hold his wife’s ungloved hand.” He watched her carefully and gave her a knowing look. “You need to relax, Audrey.”

  “I am relaxed,” she said with a tense smile.

  “Liar.” He chuckled. “This is a good time to start your lessons.”

  Audrey tried to remove her hand, but Warren held firm. “Why is it necessary to hold my hand when you are training me to become a Pinkerton agent?”

  “Because,” he started, looking down at their entwined fingers, “if we blow our cover, we will be forced to withdraw from the case. You must act as if you are head over heels in love with me.”

  Attempting to relax, she tried to point out, “When the time comes, I can…”

  Warren removed one hand and placed it on her knee.

  She swiped it off with her other hand as she declared, “You, sir, are too familiar.”

  Leaning back, he gave her a smug smile. “Case in point. A wife would not declare that her husband was too familiar.”

  “We are not truly married,” she contended.

  “Legally speaking, we are husband and wife, and we must present a united front. At the Pinkerton Detective Agency, we are taught that sometimes survival means lying, stealing, or even retreating until backup can arrive.” He took off his hat and placed it next to him on the bench. “Sometimes we put a suspect under surveillance, and we lie in wait for hours. Other times, we go in with guns drawn and engage the criminals.”

  Wishing she had something to write with, Audrey asked, “How do you know when to come in with guns blazing?”

  He lifted his brow. “It’s a gut instinct.”

  “How long have you been a Pinkerton agent?”

  “Three years,” he revealed, “but before that, I worked as a bounty hunter.”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-eight,” he paused, “and how old are you?”

  “Twenty-three,” she answered. “To be honest, I thought you were older.”

  He nodded his understanding. “This career can do that to people.”

  “Why?”

  Warren ran a hand over his stubbled jaw. “You must assume that everyone you meet is a liar, a cheat, and has some reason to kill you. If you are not constantly looking over your shoulder, and let your guard down for even a second, then you could be killed.”

  “Surely, it cannot…”

  In a blink of an eye, he drew his revolver from behind his back and had it pointed at her chest. “Trust no one, Audrey.”

  Looking at the gun, she furrowed her brow. “Can’t I trust you?”

  He lowered the revolver and seemed to be mulling over his words. “Yes, you can trust me.” He leveled his gaze. “Can I trust you?”

  “Yes,” she asserted. “I won’t let you down.”

  He tucked his gun back into his belt. “I need to teach you the art of deception. First, you must hide your own insecurities and discover the weaknesses of others.”

  “How do I do that?”

  “You need to learn how to lie and deceive,” he stated. “If you become a master manipulator, you can spot others more easily.”

  Wincing, she admitted, “I am not sure how I feel about lying.”

  He whipped his revolver back out and pointed it at her. “Then you are dead.”

  She gave him an exasperated look. “Will you please stop pointing that gun at me?”

  “Life and death can happen in a blink of an eye,” he warned her sternly. “Sometimes, the only thing that will save you from certain death is killing the criminal first.”

  “I have never shot a man before,” she admitted.

  “Have you shot a woman or a child before?”

  “Good heavens! Of course not,” she exclaimed.

  He dropped his head and sighed. “Criminals come in all ages, both male and female. If you assume a child won’t kill you to survive, then you are wrong.”

  “I understand what you are asking of me, but I could never shoot a child.”

  Warren grunted as he tucked his revolver away. “Darling, your compassion is going to get you killed.”

  While Warren was distracted, she slipped her hand into the hidden pocket of her skirt and pulled out her derringer, pointing it at his chest. “I told you that I would shoot you the next time you called me a pet name.”

  A glimmer of approval shone in his eyes. “That was a quick draw,” he said, “but next time you must be faster.” Despite having a gun pointed at his chest, he seemed to relax against the bench. “Where do you store your derringer?”

  “In a hidden pocket of my dress,” she informed him. “On my right, I carry the derringer, but on my left,” she paused, sliding her hand into the pocket and producing a sheathed knife, “I carry a knife.”

  He gave her a nod of approval. “Do all of your dresses have these hidden pockets?”

  “All the ones I brought with me,” she answered proudly, “and Marianne ensured my new traveling gown was outfitted with the same hidden pockets.”

  “Do you only have the one pistol?”

  She shook her head. “I also have a revolver packed in a secret compartment in one of my trunks.”

  “Tell me about yourself,” he asked, surprising her by his change of topic.

  Placing the derringer on the bench next to her, Audrey asked, “What would you like to know?”

  “Do you have any hobbies?”

  She bit her lower lip. “I like to solve crimes.”

  His lips quirked slightly. “I assume you were an inquisitive child.”

  “Yes, much to my parent’s dismay,” she admitted with a smile.

  “And were you loved as a child?” he asked, his tone softening.

  Surprised not only by his question, but by the kindness in his voice, she was taken aback. After a moment’s hesitation, she replied, “I was.”

  He gave her a sympathetic look. “But your parents didn’t shower any real affection on you.”

  She shook her head. “No, but they tried the best that they knew how.”

  Leaning forward in his seat, Warren’s eyes were full of compassion. “If I had to guess, you were sent away to school at a young age because your parents were unable to control your thirst for knowledge and unladylike pursuits.”

  She swallowed her emotions and nodded.

  He leaned closer, placing his left hand over hers. “And later, you found friends and solace at your finishing school, but you always wanted to be noticed by your parents, even though they only sent for you during the holidays.”

  “How did you know that?” she asked, her brow furrowing with confusion.

  Warren touched her right shoulder and slowly brought his hand down to her elbow. “In response, you drew upon your love of books and what came naturally to
you… solving crimes.”

  Opening her mouth to voice her amazement, she was not prepared when Warren swooped down, picked up her derringer, and pointed it at her head.

  “You let your guard down,” he drawled in annoyance. “Plus, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, making it possible to analyze you and ultimately manipulate your responses.”

  He handed the pistol to her. Accepting the gun from Warren, she tucked it away in the hidden pocket of her skirt. “I thought I could trust you,” she mumbled.

  He leaned back. “You can, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be testing you.”

  With a wistful sigh, she glanced out the window. They were finally approaching Hickory Creek. “I can do this,” she whispered softly under her breath.

  “You’d better,” Warren warned, “because our lives depend upon it.”

  Chapter 4

  Warren put his hat on top of his head as the train jerked to a stop. As he rose, Audrey stood in front of him and handed him his suit coat. Once he’d put it on, she took her hand and started smoothing out the wrinkles.

  “That is not necessary,” he said, swiping her hand away.

  “It is,” Audrey insisted as she reached up and adjusted his necktie. “You are a rich, successful investor from the East, and you must look like you have oodles and oodles of money to invest in a small mining town.” She leaned back and nodded in approval. “You look handsome, Mr. Kimball.”

  He grinned. “Thank you, Mrs. Kimball.”

  Looping her hand through his arm, she shared, “Just so you know, it is legal for women to vote here.”

  “I do read, wife,” he joked. “Wyoming Territory was the first to give women the right to vote in 1869 and was quickly followed by Utah.”

  As they exited the train, he had to admit that she’d been right. It had been far easier to ride in the Pullman car than being in the general seating area. After they stepped down onto the platform, Audrey dropped her arm and headed toward the men unloading her trunks at the far end. Reaching into her reticule, she handed them a few coins.

  Turning back toward him, Audrey smiled, causing him to momentarily forget that this was just an assignment. She was beautiful already, but her smile lit up her face, making her the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

  Warren cleared his throat. Was Audrey even aware of the power that she held over other people? Regardless, her friendliness came too easily, and that was a trait that would not serve her well as a Pinkerton agent.

  Audrey stopped in front of him, and he leaned closer. “Stop smiling so much,” he counseled. “Pinkerton agents are not supposed to be memorable. We are supposed to blend into a crowd and disappear without any fanfare.”

  She tilted her head, making their lips only inches apart. “You want me to stop smiling at people?”

  “Yes, you do it entirely too much.” He glanced down at her lips for emphasis.

  Her mouth dipped into a frown. “I have learned that being nice is quite effective when seeking information.”

  “No, it has nothing to do with being nice,” he told her.

  “Then what?”

  “Men hope to bed you,” he said with a knowing look.

  Her mouth gaped. “How dare you say such a horribly vulgar thing to me.”

  Shrugging unapologetically, he replied, “You are a beautiful woman, and you should take advantage of your sensuality.”

  Her body tensed. “You are disgusting, Mr. Rockwell.”

  “Kimball,” he corrected her.

  Audrey shook her head, and her next words came through gritted teeth. “If you are insinuating that I use my body to solve cases as a Pinkerton agent, then I would like nothing to do with the agency.” She took a step back and flashed him a look of disgust before marching toward the ticket agent office.

  He realized she had misconstrued what he meant, so he rushed to catch up to her. As he placed his hand on her elbow, she jerked it back. “I am going back to Cincinnati,” she stated over her shoulder.

  “Stop,” he ordered, attempting to keep his voice down.

  “No.”

  He moved to stand in front of her and put his hands out to stop her. “Wait, you misunderstood what I was saying.”

  “I heard you perfectly well,” she admonished, moving to walk past him.

  “Wait,” he said urgently. “Please.”

  Clenching her fists at her sides, she lifted her brow and looked up at him. “You have ten seconds before I board the next train back to Denver to let Marianne know of your outrageous claim.”

  Warren took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. This was why he didn’t like to speak to women. They were either liars, cheats, or misconstrued everything that he said. Placing his hat back on his head, he was determined to rectify the situation.

  “I meant the part about you being a beautiful woman, and that you can use that to your advantage…”

  She rolled her eyes as she started to brush past him.

  He stepped in front of her to halt her progress. “I was not insinuating that you bed anyone. I was merely commenting that men tend to speak freely around a lively, attractive woman, and it gives you an advantage over other agents.”

  Her lips pressed together as her eyes roamed his face. “It almost sounded like you were giving me a compliment,” she responded, her tone guarded.

  He nodded his head. “It was meant as a compliment.”

  Looking over his shoulder at the ticket agent office, she sighed. “We need to work on your social skills, husband.”

  The tension drained out of Warren’s body and he chuckled. “Not only have I never worked with a woman before, but I have never been married, either.”

  “This is all new to me, as well,” she said, offering him a half smile.

  “Then I propose we start over.” He offered her an impish grin. “Let bygones be bygones and work together to solve this crime quickly so we can hurry up and get an annulment.”

  “I can agree to that.”

  Extending his arm, he said, “Now, let’s go see if we can crack this case before sundown.”

  Her eyes twinkled with merriment as she placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “Considering sunset is only a few hours away, we’d better work fast.”

  As they left the train station, Warren’s eyes took in the small, bustling town. Wooden buildings lined the long, dusty main street, and horses were tied to hitching posts in front of various establishments. A few women, dressed in prairie skirts, held their children’s hands as they walked along the boardwalk, and large groups of men leaned against the posts, watching them closely as they headed into town.

  An older man with a protruding belly and thinning white hair stepped out from under the eaves of the general store and approached them. “Are you passing through or staying?”

  Warren smiled pleasantly and shook the man’s hand. “We are fixing to stay, if I have my way.” He smiled at Audrey. “My wife is harder to convince.”

  The man looked at Audrey, eyeing her with approval, before bringing his gaze back to Warren. “You have a fine-looking woman there.”

  He felt Audrey bristle, but thankfully, she remained silent. “I agree with you there,” Warren said, bringing his other hand up to tip his hat. “Who would I speak to about investment opportunities in this fine town?”

  The man tucked his thumbs into his vest. “Well, I am the mayor of this town. The name’s Brown. David Brown.”

  “I am Warren Kimball, and this is my wife, Audrey,” he said, tilting his head toward her.

  Mayor Brown smiled at Audrey. “It is a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “Likewise,” she replied graciously.

  “You look like a right proper woman,” he stated in approval. “Mrs. Tucker runs the fanciest finishing school this side of the Mississippi and is currently looking to hire a teacher.”

  Loosening her grip on Warren’s arm, Audrey smiled back at the mayor. “I appreciate the suggestion, but I am not looking for a
job.”

  He looked at her stomach. “Are you with child, then?”

  Warren sensed her tense, so he placed his arm around her shoulders. “We have been trying,” he remarked with a smile, “but we’re only newlyweds.”

  The mayor chuckled. “To be young and in love again.” He turned his head toward the east side of town. “Depending on how long you plan to stay, this town offers a hotel and two boarding houses.” He stepped closer to Warren and lowered his voice. “A word of caution, though, the boarding houses tend to attract a rowdier crowd, which might make your wife uncomfortable.”

  “What do you say?” Warren asked, glancing down at Audrey. “Would you prefer the hotel?”

  “I should warn you that the hotel charges two dollars a night,” the mayor informed them. “It is not the cheapest option.”

  “I understand, but I want my wife to be happy,” Warren said, tightening his hold on her shoulders and tucking her close.

  Her eyes were guarded as she mumbled, “The hotel sounds delightful.”

  “Please say that you will join my wife and me for dinner at the hotel tonight,” Mayor Brown invited. “My Ruth would love to meet you both.”

  Warren smiled, knowing this was the opportunity they were looking for. Removing his arm from around Audrey’s shoulders, he stated, “We would be delighted. What time?”

  “Let’s say around six, and I will see if Mr. Douglas, the banker, will join us. He’s the man to talk to about investment opportunities,” Mayor Brown offered.

  “We will be there,” Warren replied as he offered Audrey his arm.

  She slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, and they began walking toward the hotel. After they’d stepped away from the mayor, Audrey murmured, “What was wrong with that man?”

  “Nothing,” he informed her. “Welcome to the west.”

  “Surely, not all men act like the mayor.”

  “In the west, there are not a lot of women, and they are expected to work right alongside the men in order to survive,” he shared. “Plus, no one has time to tip-toe around women’s delicate feelings.”

  Audrey pulled her arm away and stepped back. “I do not have delicate feelings,” she claimed. “I have learned to…” Her voice trailed off as she let out a gasp.