Petticoat Detective (40 page)

Not only did she have to make a good impression, but one that would throw no suspicion her way. “Dazzle Thomas with your charm and good looks,” Mr. Pinkerton had said, “and he won’t suspect a thing.”

She was hot and she was hungry and, more than anything, travel-weary. In her current state she’d be lucky to dazzle a horsefly.

Despite the desert heat she donned her kid gloves and smoothed the wrinkles from her blue, velvet-trimmed suit. Steam hissed across the platform and passengers sidestepped the misty blast.

A barefoot boy of about nine or ten raised a folded newspaper in the air and yelled something about a fire. “Readallaboutit!”

A man bumped into her and almost knocked her off her feet. Regaining her balance, she pivoted just in time to see the same thief she’d spotted earlier snatch the paperboy’s money bag and dart into the crowd. The nerve! It wasn’t bad enough trying to steal from a young mother, but a child!

The youth’s face turned red. “That man took my pouch!” His eyes brimmed with tears though he tried not to let them fall. “Now I gotta pay the money back.”

Maggie hesitated. If only the boy didn’t look so needy. His tattered shirt was a size too small, and his threadbare trousers fell six inches short of his dirty bare feet. “Stay here!” she said and took off after the robber.

The thief moved at a good clip, but the crowded platform and a limp kept him from altogether running. His long, dark coat was more suitable for cold weather, and it made him stand out among a crowd dressed mainly in gingham dresses and boiled white shirts.

Something was wrong with his left leg and he dragged it along, toes pointing away from his body. She’d almost caught up to him when a dark-skinned porter pushed a cart of baggage in her path, momentarily blocking her way.

By the time the cart moved, the pickpocket had vanished. She ran to the end of the platform and immediately spotted him lumbering along the railroad tracks. Had he been physically able to run, she might have given up the chase, but he looked like an easy mark.

Jumping to the ground, she raised her skirt above her ankles and took off after him.
Here I go again. Tossing common sense to the wind
. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. Not where children were concerned.

Running on the gravel in high-button shoes and a straight skirt wasn’t easy, but she quickly gained on the man. She just hoped he didn’t force her to pull out her pistol.

No more than a couple of yards separated them when the heel of her boot caught on a wooden railroad tie. All at once her feet flew from beneath her. Arms and legs windmilling, she fell facedown on the ground.

The wind knocked out of her, she fought to gather her wits. Now look what she’d done. Grimacing, she ever so slowly pushed up to her feet and squinted against the hot, blazing sun. On the left side of the tracks a bleak desert stretched for as far as the eye could see. Since the thief was nowhere in sight, he probably ducked through the adobe brickyard that paralleled the tracks on the right.

What kind of town was this anyway, that a man could steal from a young boy in plain sight and get away with it?

Gritting her teeth, she stared down at her stylish blue traveling suit now covered in dust.

She brushed herself off with quick angry swipes and straightened her feather hat. When would she ever learn? One impetuous moment could jeopardize six months of careful planning.

The sound of crunching gravel made her whirl around. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood but a few feet away, staring at her with eyes the color of a deep blue sea.

“Is everything all right, ma’am?”

Her mouth fell open and her hand flew to her parted lips. The red scar slicing down the side of his handsome square face told her he could be no other than the suspect Garrett Thomas. The man she had traveled all this distance to wed.

Bestselling author Margaret Brownley has penned more than thirty novels. Her books have won numerous awards, including Readers’ Choice and Award of Excellence. She’s a former Romance Writers of America RITA finalist and has written for a TV soap. Happily married to her real-life hero, Margaret and her husband have three grown children and live in Southern California.

www.margaret-brownley.com

Also Available from Shiloh Run Press

Petticoat Detective

Unabridged Audiobook