An Agent for Audrey Page 9

  He felt his resolve fading. He touched her right forearm. “Wait, Audrey… please.”

  She kept her gaze lowered, refusing to look at him.

  He cupped her cheek. “Having a partner is new to me. I am having a hard time relinquishing control of the investigation.” He smiled weakly. “I am sorry,” he murmured, hoping his words sounded as sincere as he felt.

  Audrey’s lips twitched. “You don’t apologize often, do you?”

  His face blanched. “Why would I? I am hardly ever wrong.”

  She laughed. “I accept your apology.”

  He peered deep into her eyes as he stated, “I will allow you to go into the finishing school alone on one condition.”

  “Anything,” came her quick reply.

  Lifting his brow, he said, “You don’t get yourself killed.”

  She smirked. “I can agree to those terms.”

  Chapter 8

  After a light supper, Warren offered his arm to Audrey as they strolled along the boardwalk at dusk. Audrey wore a green dress that drew attention to her comely figure. Or at least, it captured his attention.

  “Tomorrow, when you go to the school, I will ride around the outskirts of town and look for signs of any base camps the counterfeiters might be using,” he informed her.

  “Smart,” she remarked as her eyes scanned the buildings. “I highly doubt a counterfeiter would go unnoticed in this town, especially if a printing press is involved.”

  Realizing he hadn’t told Audrey about his conversation with Sheriff Walker, he took the next few minutes recapping what they’d discussed. He glanced over at her and saw her lips pressed tightly together.

  “What are your thoughts?” he asked.

  “Somehow, a large number of bills are being printed and dispersed to the public,” she said. Loud music drifted out of Ruby’s Theatre as a steady stream of men walked in and out of the building. “Do you suppose Mr. Douglas is distributing the counterfeit bills? No one would suspect the bills that the banker hands them.”

  Warren shook his head. “I doubt that Mr. Douglas is involved. He was the one who reported the influx of counterfeit bills to the Secret Service. He also confiscated the counterfeit notes he found and turned them over to the authorities. Still, you are right. We can’t rule him out completely.”

  “Who can we rule out?”

  “I think we can safely rule out Sheriff Walker. I trust the man.”

  “Fair enough. Who else?”

  “Mayor Brown doesn’t seem to be the criminal mastermind type,” he stated.

  Audrey laughed. “I agree with you there.”

  “So out of a town of two thousand folks, we can rule out two people.” He chuckled.

  Smiling, she looked over at him. “It has only been twenty-four hours since we arrived. I think we are making nice progress.”

  He gave her a side-glance. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “You are a like a ray of optimism.”

  “You say that like it is a bad thing.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m starting to see that it is a good thing.”

  Before Audrey could respond, a group of rowdy men exited the saloon. It only took them seconds to stop and stare lewdly at her. “Ain’t you a pretty lady,” one of the men slurred heavily. “Wanna dance?”

  Warren felt himself tense, preparing for a fight. “You are drunk. Go sleep it off.”

  Another man argued, “We weren’t talking to you, mister. We were talking to the sweet thing on your arm.”

  “You mean my wife?” he growled, stepping in front of Audrey, shielding her from the drunk men.

  Surprised, he heard her mutter under her breath, “There are only five of them. You take the three men on the left, and I will take the two men on the right.”

  “Absolutely not!” he exclaimed over his shoulder.

  “Fine. I have a better idea anyway.” She stepped around him and addressed the group of men in a sultry voice. “I need a strong, handsome man to escort me home.”

  Each of the drunk men’s bloodshot eyes stared at her as if she was an illusion. “But there are five of you and only one of me.” Her lips formed into a pout. “How will I decide?”

  As if on cue, the men turned on each other and started a fist fight. In only a few moments, the altercation had moved onto the main road. Suddenly, a gunshot filled the night air, causing all the men to stop fighting and look up. A man wearing a badge lowered his pistol from above his head, and announced, “You men are under arrest for being intoxicated in public and disturbing the peace.”

  The lawman’s eyes shifted toward them, and his eyes lit up with pleasure. “Mrs. Kimball, it is a pleasure to see you again.”

  Gritting his teeth, Warren bristled at the way the lawman looked at his wife. It was like a child looking at the candy in a general store. “And how do you know my wife?” he asked, placing his arm around Audrey’s waist and tugging her close.

  Baffled, Audrey looked at him and explained vaguely, “This morning, I had an encounter with another intoxicated cowboy on the way to see Mrs. Brown, and Deputy Harper was kind enough to assist me.”

  “Encounter?” The lawman laughed.

  Audrey smiled at the deputy, which greatly unnerved Warren. “The cowboy may have mistaken me for a woman of loose morals.”

  “May have?” Warren asked.

  She scrunched her nose. “He was drunk, and I was standing outside of Ruby’s Theatre.”

  Keeping his eyes on the subdued men, the deputy added, “Your wife gained the upper hand rather quickly and had the situation under control by the time I showed up.” His words were filled with admiration.

  With a firm hold on his wife, Warren nodded. “It appears that my wife can take care of herself,” he admitted proudly.

  The deputy’s approving gaze trailed down the length of Audrey’s body for a moment before they snapped back over to the criminals. “Do you still intend to file charges against Travis?”

  Audrey shook her head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I think he just needed to sleep it off.”

  The lawman tipped his hat toward her. “That is mighty kind of you, Mrs. Kimball.”

  Smiling, Audrey replied, “Good night, Deputy Harper.”

  With a tip of his head, Warren turned his wife back toward the hotel and away from the charismatic deputy. “That man was flirting with you,” he stated, his tone gruffer than he intended.

  She gave him a puzzled look. “The deputy? No, he was just doing his job.”

  Stepping down onto the dusty road in front of the hotel, he pressed, “I don’t trust him.”

  Audrey giggled and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. “Careful, Mr. Kimball. It almost sounds like you are jealous.”

  “I am not jealous,” he lied. He most definitely was jealous, but he refused to let her know that. “We are happily married. Our cover depends on it.”

  As they walked into their hotel room, Warren walked over and grabbed his pillow, dropping it onto the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Audrey asked.

  “What does it look like?” he barked. “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

  “Why?”

  Because I want to spend the entire night kissing you, he wanted to say. Instead, he replied, “I prefer to sleep alone.” Liar. He enjoyed waking up with Audrey in his arms. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.

  Reaching for her nightgown, Audrey shook her head. “But you were so adamant last night about sharing a bed. I don’t mind sharing.”

  “But I do,” he growled. “I’m going to the outhouse.”

  Warren walked down to the hotel lobby and dropped onto a sofa, burying his hands in his face. This was becoming the most difficult assignment he had ever had to endure. He preferred working alone. Now, he had a partner, who was his wife, and she was stubborn and determined… but beautiful and clever.

  He couldn’t believe he’d acted like a jealous suitor when the
deputy flirted with her. What was he thinking? He was a Pinkerton agent. He needed to be in control of his emotions at all times.

  He took a deep breath, trying to get his mind off his wife and back onto their assignment. Tomorrow, he would search the surrounding areas and hopefully find a lead. In two days, they were required to check in with the home office. They needed a break in the case. He highly doubted that anything would come from the finishing school, but Audrey should learn from her mistakes.

  Mentally, he listed what had to be done. Continue training Audrey. Capture counterfeiters. Get an annulment. That shouldn’t be too hard. Should it?

  Audrey passed the open iron gates of Mrs. Tucker’s school and slowed her horse as she noticed the entire property was fenced, just as Phoebe had described. Up ahead, loomed a large, three-level, brick building with bay windows. A wrap-around porch gave the only indication of warmth to the structure. Surprisingly, she could hear no children as she came closer. She dismounted, tied her horse to a post, stepped onto the porch, and knocked on the door.

  She heard the distinct sound of unlatching locks. The door swung open and an older girl, wearing a light blue uniform, greeted her. “Good morning, Mrs. Kimball.”

  Walking into the foyer, she replied, “Good morning. And what is your name?”

  The girl curtsied. “Miss Edna.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Edna.” Glancing around the foyer, Audrey saw a set of stairs leading up to the second level, and beautiful paintings hung on the walls. Stepping closer to a large landscape of the mountains, she gushed, “This is beautiful. Do you know who painted it?”

  “Mrs. Quinn painted all these pictures.”

  Noticing the superb brush strokes, Audrey was impressed at Phoebe’s talent. “Do you know if she sells her work?”

  Edna shook her head. “I don’t know, ma’am. Mrs. Quinn runs the art program, but I’ve never heard of her selling her work.” She pointed toward the hallway. “Mrs. Tucker is waiting for you in her office.”

  Curious about the quiet house, Audrey asked, “Are the girls boarded at another location?”

  “No. Our sleeping quarters are on the second floor.”

  Walking down the tiled hall, Audrey could hear the clicking of her shoes on the recently polished tile echoing off the walls. “I don’t hear any children.”

  Edna looked confused. “It is breakfast time, ma’am.”

  Now, it was Audrey’s turn to look confused. “Aren’t you allowed to talk during breakfast?”

  “Breakfast is a time to meditate and think about how we will present ourselves for the day,” Edna explained.

  Audrey asked, “How old are you?”

  The girl stopped at the door at the end of the hall and raised her hand to knock as she answered, “Fifteen.”

  “Come in,” a woman’s voice said from behind the door. Edna opened the door then turned to leave.

  As Audrey stepped into the room, she saw a striking lady sitting behind a large desk. She had auburn hair, a square shaped face, and high cheekbones.

  With an obviously forced smile, the woman introduced herself. “My name is Mrs. Matilda Tucker. Please, sit down.”

  Audrey lowered herself onto the chair, being mindful to remember her own etiquette training. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

  Mrs. Tucker leaned forward in her seat and put her hands on the desk. “My sister gave me no choice in the matter. Luckily for you, one of our teachers has quit, and we need someone to fill in immediately. Normally, we hire only single women of good breeding, but I have made an exception, since it is a temporary position.” Her alert eyes perused Audrey’s dark-purple dress and lace collar. “Our teachers dress in more conservative attire, Mrs. Kimball. I trust this will not be a problem?”

  Fingering the lace collar that extended halfway up her neck, Audrey asked, “Can you be more specific?”

  Mrs. Tucker waved her hand over her whole wardrobe. “We wear blue or brown hues, avoid lace, ruffles, and frills, and our dresses must be loose, so we don’t draw undesirable attention.”

  “I understand,” Audrey murmured.

  “What finishing school did you attend?”

  “Miss Porter’s School in Connecticut,” Audrey admitted, seeing no reason to lie about her education. Shifting her gaze, she admired all the books stacked on the shelves.

  “That is an elite finishing school,” Mrs. Tucker commented, sounding impressed.

  Gripping her reticule in her lap, Audrey nodded. “So I have been told.”

  Mrs. Tucker leaned back in her seat and eyed her critically. “My sister informed me that you excelled in your studies, particularly arithmetic and chemistry.”

  “It is true. Miss Porter’s School recognized the importance of women’s education, which is why the school’s curriculum boasted chemistry, physiology, botany, geology, and astronomy, in addition to the more traditional subjects.”

  Mrs. Tucker reached for a piece of paper from her desk. “Then it will not be a problem for you to teach arithmetic and trigonometry?”

  “Not at all,” Audrey replied without hesitation.

  Mrs. Tucker extended the paper toward her.

  Audrey accepted the note and scanned the document. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. The paper contained a list of rules. Some of them included: Keep your voice at a whisper, avoid socializing, no talking during meal times, hair must be pulled into a tight bun at the base of the neck, refrain from excess laughter, and no talking after eight pm.

  “Do these rules apply to all the girls?” she asked.

  “Those are your rules, Mrs. Kimball,” Mrs. Tucker informed her. “And you will be terminated immediately if you fail to comply.”

  Glancing down at the sheet, Audrey pressed, “This paper says I am not allowed to walk around the school or school grounds without permission.”

  “That is correct. There is no reason for you to be wandering around places that you should not be,” Mrs. Tucker stated flatly. “Furthermore, we require our female teachers to board with us, and they are prohibited from engaging in unseemly conduct with men. Since you are married, we will make an exception. You will be allowed to leave the school each evening to go home to your husband.”

  Audrey forced a smile. “That is most gracious of you.”

  “We believe so.” Mrs. Tucker tilted her chin. “Mrs. Tucker’s Finishing School is committed to teaching our girls charm, grace, loyalty, and the ability to persevere through the most difficult situations. We are dedicated to testing the girls’ personal fortitude through academic rigor and strict rules, which are specifically designed to produce anxiety and to intimidate.”

  Audrey tried not to show her disdain for the headmistress’s harsh approach as she lowered the paper to her lap.

  Mrs. Tucker stood, showing off her unflattering, plain, brown gown with no trim or frills. “Let me show you to your classroom. You will be expected to stay there during school hours. Once your coursework has concluded each evening, wait for me, and I will escort you out of the school.”

  Rising, Audrey followed Mrs. Tucker down a hallway, stopping at a door on her left. “This is the arithmetic and trigonometry room. Every hour, on the hour, a bell will chime, and the students will have five minutes to report to their next class.”

  When the door opened, it revealed a small classroom with ten desks and a large chalkboard in front. A teacher’s desk sat in the corner with a window behind it.

  “Your class rosters and the first week’s lesson plans are on your desk,” Mrs. Tucker continued. “We don’t encourage you to be overly heavy-handed, but you are welcome to enforce the rules as you see fit.”

  Audrey arched an eyebrow. “You are giving me permission to strike the girls?”

  Mrs. Tucker nodded. “Yes, if the need arises.”

  Hesitantly, she ventured, “Do the other teachers strike them?”

  “On occasion, yes.”

  On Audrey’s desk was a math book, along with
the lesson plans. “Thank you. This will do.” As she reviewed the lesson plans, she realized that Mrs. Tucker was still standing in the doorway. Raising her head, she asked, “Is there anything else?”

  Mrs. Tucker gave her a stern look. “I cannot stress enough the importance of not poking your nose around where it doesn’t belong.” Her tone held an unmistakable warning.

  “I understand,” she replied, waiting for Mrs. Tucker to leave, closing the door behind her.

  Looking out the window, Audrey surveyed the school’s fenced property. From her view, she could see a structure near a large oak tree. From the look of it, the wooden structure might be abandoned, but she would need to take a closer look. It was large enough to hold a smaller printing press, or perhaps it was just a place to store supplies for the school.

  A bell rang, the door opened, and a stream of girls of varying ages filed in. They all wore the same ugly, blue frock, and each had their hair styled in the same fashion, a tight bun near the base of the neck. No ribbons adorned their hair, nor did smiles grace their faces.

  What was going on at this school? Audrey needed to get to the bottom of this, and quickly. She walked to the front of the room and started class. “If a train travels at the speed of sixty miles per hour and is uninterrupted, how long would a trip of three hundred miles take?”

  Chapter 9

  Warren had barely shut the door to their room when Audrey plopped down onto the bed. “It was just awful at the school,” she declared. “It’s like a prison.”

  Because the hotel dining room had been crowded during the dinner rush, they’d been unable to talk openly, and Warren felt frustrated by the delay. Sitting down next to her on the bed, he urged, “Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

  He listened as Audrey told him everything that had transpired at the school. The more she talked, the more animated her hands became. He tried to stifle a smile.

  Mid-sentence, Audrey frowned and asked, “What is so amusing?”

  “You,” he answered honestly.

  “Me?”