Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (10 page)

“I don’t wish you to hurt them, but if you could convince them to leave, I would be happy to buy that supper for you.”

“And you can assure me that these fellows aren’t lawbreakers?”

She drew herself up to her full height as a lovely shade of pink climbed into her cheeks. “I am a Pinkerton agent charged with keeping the laws of
this country, sir. And as such I would never allow any persons of that ilk to escape. So no, they are most assuredly
not
lawbreakers.”

My, but she is beautiful when riled.
He nodded and then fixed her with a look. “I don’t like getting in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, either.”

“I assure you there is no such relationship with either of them,” she snapped.

“No, I guess there isn’t. Couldn’t be that a Pinkerton agent charged with keeping the laws of this country would find time for romance.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just that you seem to be the type who wouldn’t allow love to get in the way of the disposition of her duties.”

He could tell the pretty lady was trying to decide if she ought to take offense or thank him. While she thought about that, he said, “Do not move until I come back for you. Understand?”

When she nodded, he set off around the corner of the mercantile to where he had a better view of the street. The men in question had moved down the block and now stood in front of the ticket window at the rail station.

“Evening, boys,” he said when he caught up with them.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Sore Jaw said. “Look, we’re heading out soon as the train leaves for New Orleans.”

“And when is that?” he asked as he glanced over at the pair of tickets the clerk was handing the other man.

“The train will be pulling out any minute,” the clerk told them. “You ought not to dally, fellows. What about you, mister?” he said to Jefferson.

“I’m just here to tell these two goodbye.” Jefferson made sure he had both of the travelers’ attention before continuing. “If I see you around, I won’t hesitate to consider you two the criminals you are.”

“We’re not criminals,” Sore Jaw protested.

“Then why don’t we take a stroll down the road to speak to the law and see what he thinks? The way I remember it, I was taking a bath when the two of you barged in my room and—”

The train’s whistle interrupted him before he could finish. By the time the sound had ceased, the interlopers were climbing aboard.

Jefferson made sure the train left with them on it and then went back
for Miss Callum. “Sent them packing on the train to New Orleans,” he told her as he escorted her across the street toward the entrance of the hotel. “Now, about that supper?”

“You mean they left? Just like that?”

He wouldn’t tell her the boys were already heading out of town when he gave them good reason not to change their plans. Instead, he nodded. “Just like that. Just like you kissed me.”

“That was not a kiss.”

“Miss Callum, that was definitely a kiss, and a memorable one too.” He paused just long enough to let her think about that. “You know, I’m of a mind to have a nice steak. Will you join me?”

“Yes,” she said as she stepped inside. “I’ll be glad to pay up.”

“I wouldn’t think of it. I’ve come into some money recently, and I would be much obliged if you would let me pay back some of your kindness by buying you dinner.”

She looked as if she might argue, and then instead she merely nodded. Once they were seated at a table near the back of the room and had ordered their meals, Jefferson broached the topic on his mind. “The truth. Are you in danger, Miss Callum?”

Eight

S
ince when did a simple question about whether a person was in danger meet with such surprise? Miss Callum laughed, sobering only when Jefferson did not join her in an expression of humor.

“You’re serious,” she said, the remains of her smile still in place at the corners of her lovely lips.

“I am.”

She removed the napkin from the table and placed it in her lap. A gesture likely meant to delay a response, and yet he was determined to be patient.

In the lamplight, her fair hair took on a golden glow, and the color in her cheeks rose. She was a beautiful woman, this Pinkerton agent, a fact that made him wonder why she’d chosen this line of work instead of busying herself as a rich man’s wife.

“There is always an element of danger, Mr. Tucker,” she said without the slightest fear in her voice. “It is a hazard of my occupation, and one I can neither repair nor concern myself with.”

“Because to do so would be crippling to your work?”

Her expression softened. “Indeed.”

“So those men—”

“Fall under the category of things, or rather persons, I cannot concern myself with at the present time.”

“I’ll grant you that, then. But I still say that was quite a kiss.”

“Suit yourself, but it was merely a diversionary tactic meant to—”

“Detract attention due to the fact the behavior was something those two would never assume you would do,” he supplied. “Acting against character can be effective.”

“And apparently it was.”

“Oh, it affected me,” he admitted.

Sadie shook her head and resolutely changed the subject to the weather and resulting flooding that had taken place the last few weeks in the surrounding countryside. Though he might have commented to say that weather of any sort had not permeated the depths of his prison cell, Jefferson decided against it. The diversion of speaking about anything not related to a case was surprisingly refreshing, as was the relaxed expression on Miss Callum’s lovely face.

Soon enough, the food arrived. Though the meal would never be compared to fine dining in any way, the fact that it was hot, palatable, and not infested with anything that moved when he stabbed it with a fork made this the best dining experience he had in a very long time, the picnic lunch notwithstanding.

Jefferson caught Miss Callum watching and realized his plate was emptying much faster than hers. “Delicious,” he said as he speared the last piece of meat and downed it with as much restraint as he could manage. “Thank you for tolerating me tonight. I find I’m out of the habit of recalling how to dine with proper ladies. I cannot recall when the company was more pleasant.”

She prettied up her expression with a smile. “What are your plans once you return to Mobile?”

So she intended to deflect with a change of topic. Of course she would pick that one.

He exhaled as if the moment might pass and Miss Callum would cast her interests elsewhere. Failing this, he elected to answer with the most truthful thing he could say.

“I have no idea.”

Though her brows lifted, she offered no advice as she sipped gingerly
at her steaming mug of tea. His esteem of her rose, for a woman who did not tell a man what to do was a rare creature. At least in his experience.

Her silence prodded him to pick up the thread of conversation in a safer place. “Once you’re rid of me, where will you go?”

Her beautiful green eyes met his gaze. “I think that’s a subject only discussed between Pinkerton agents, don’t you?”

“Oh, of course.” He suppressed a smile. “None of that spy-to-spy courtesy here. I do understand.”

She sat back amused. Or perhaps perturbed. The expression she offered could have been either.

“Spy to spy?” She glanced around the empty dining room. “Really, Mr. Tucker? Is that what you think we are?”

Jefferson let out a long breath as he reached for the sugar bowl in an attempt to make the rather vile coffee palatable. After adding two spoonfuls of sugar, he took a sip and then reached once more for the spoon.

“What I think is that you and I are not so different, at least in our careers.” He paused to move the sugar bowl back to the center of the table between them. “And in this case, I think a decent argument can be made for the fact that our careers have intersected quite nicely.”

“You act as if we are working together, Mr. Tucker, which we decidedly are not.”

“I beg to differ, Miss Callum. You are looking for my brother and so am I.” He shrugged, an affectation designed to allow the woman to consider him harmless and not the least bit interested in the topic. Neither, of course, was true.

“Actually, once my replacement arrives, I will hand over your custody as well as the job of finding your brother.”

“And you will move on to another case.”

She almost smiled. Almost but not quite. “That is my hope.”

“Ah, so your interest in finding the larcenous Will Tucker, as he’s known in the newspapers, pales in comparison to something more interesting?”

“After a brief respite, yes.”

“A visit with home and family, perhaps? I’m sure your husband will be happy to see you return.”

She shook her head. “Are you making polite conversation, or was that an attempt to uncover personal details about me?”

“Yes. Is it working?”

“It is not.” She crossed her arms over her waist, all pretense of dining set aside. “You’re a curious man.”

“And you are changing the subject, Agent Callum.”

“Yes. And it
is
working.” At his chuckle, she continued. “You count your freedom in hours with no idea of what you will do and—”

“I never said I had no idea as to what I would do.” He leaned slightly in her direction. “What I said was that I had no idea of my plans once I returned to Mobile. The two are separate issues.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I was pursuing a suspect when I was wrongly incarcerated. I intend to continue that pursuit. That is what I will do.”

“I see.” She paused as if deciding what to say next. “Then I wish you much luck in the pursuit of your suspect and the execution of whatever plans you undertake.”

“That is kind of you.”

“No, it’s not. Anyone thinking of taking up detective work for a living should be considering another line of work.” She looked away. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that out loud. It has been a rather long day. If you will excuse me, I will say good night.”

She rose, and Jefferson followed suit. “I wonder if I might change your mind.”

“About what?”

“Retiring early.” He paused to collect his thoughts, not an easy task with a beautiful woman watching. “And maybe about detective work.”