Of all the nerve! Stolen property? I have no need of stealing anything, Mr. McMinn. The idea of it is preposterous.” Flora shook her head. “And how dare you accuse me of colluding with a person of that ilk? I am a woman of careful associations.”
His chuckle belied his formidable presence. “Careful associations? Is that what you’re calling your engagement to Will Tucker? A careful association?”
It was. Though she was loath to admit it to the man now, Flora had used those exact words in her letter to Father.
Again he touched her watch. “Tell me where you got this.”
“It was a gift.”
“From?”
Once again, Flora met his gaze. Under other circumstances she might have allowed herself to note the way the dappled sunlight played across the angles of his face. The way his lashes, raven dark and thick as a woman’s, brushed high cheekbones when he closed his eyes.
Now, however, she willed herself to form a more dispassionate opinion. Considering the man held the key to the handcuffs circling her wrists, the effort was not difficult to manage.
“From my fiancé.” She let out a long breath. “Mr. Tucker.”
A nod. And then another shift of positions as if he were seeking to assure himself they were truly alone.
“Look, I want Tucker, not you. He is the true criminal. At least, that is my current assessment. It could change.” Before Flora could protest, Mr. McMinn held up his hands to stop her. “Did you ever wonder why the letter M was engraved on the back?”
Indeed she had, but Mr. Tucker had explained it quite well. “That’s the initial of his mother’s given name. The watch was hers.” Flora gave him a sideways look. “How did you know about the engraving?”
He said nothing for a moment, allowing her to draw her own conclusion. “Because I have an affidavit on file proving the watch’s ownership.” Another pause. “And asserting that your fiancé stole it.”
She looked up sharply but said nothing. The handcuffs weighed heavily against the skin of her wrists. If only she’d thought to bring her gloves along when she left the suite this morning.
“Miss Brimm? Don’t you have an opinion on what I’ve told you?”
“Of course I do. I don’t give one whit for what your affidavit says. The assertion is preposterous.” She said it as much to convince herself as to make her companion see reason. “I know Mr. Tucker, and he wouldn’t…” Again she shook her head. “He just doesn’t appear the sort.”
“And appearances are everything with your set, aren’t they? Which is why you’re willing to marry him.” His eyes swept the length of her and then returned to meet her gaze. “You know very little about him. Just enough to become his wife but not enough to say for certain that he got that watch from his dead mama. Am I right?”
“Please understand you’ve said nothing to change my mind about my…that is, about Mr. Tucker. However, you are correct in your assertion that because it was a gift, I have no bill or receipt for the watch. And until its true owner can be determined, I would like you to remove it from my wrist and place it in the sheriff’s custody.”
He certainly hadn’t expected that. This much she could tell from the way he covered what had to be surprise with a nod. “At least you’ve been honest about one thing.” He made quick work of releasing the clasp on the watch to slide it off her wrist. “I’ll be sure and note that in the report.” After dropping it into his pocket, he swiveled to face her. “Now there’s just one more thing you and I have to decide.”
She tamped down on the urge to respond with sarcasm. Instead, she opted for charm school manners, the better to sooth the irritated beast. At least that was her hope.
“And what might that be, Mr. McMinn?”
“Will you help me catch this criminal, or should I deliver you over to the Eureka Springs sheriff and continue my investigation unassisted? I should warn you that I will be successful in either case.”
“Successful in catching him or successful in finding him guilty?” Again she offered a demure look. “For the two are not mutually exclusive. And for the record, though you’ve convinced me of your identity as a Pinkerton agent, you have not yet convinced me of my fiancé’s identity as a criminal. Are we quite clear on this?”
“Fair enough, Miss Brimm. How about this? You point me in Tucker’s direction, and I’ll see that he gets a fair trial.”
“And if I choose not to? Just so I know the full array of options available.”
“If you choose not to, I’ll turn you over to the sheriff and bring Tucker in without you.”
“Not much of a choice, I suppose.” She gave the matter a moment’s thought. “All right, Mr. McMinn. But understand I will only help you find Mr. Tucker because I believe his innocence will be easily proven.” She ignored his expression of disagreement to gesture toward her reticule. “Might I post this letter before we return to the hotel?”
Mr. McMinn pulled his watch from his pocket to consult the time. “I don’t suppose it will hurt to let you do that.”
“Thank you.” She lifted her hands. “Now, about these handcuffs?”
He shook his head. “They’re staying right where I put them. I won’t have you running off before I’m ready to turn you loose.”
“Don’t you think people will wonder why I am riding around with a stranger wearing these?” She tried not to smile at the man’s obvious irritation. “I would think a man who is conducting an investigation might not want to attract too much attention. Of course,” she added sweetly, “I’m just a novice, so perhaps I’m wrong…”
“All right,” he said sharply. “No need for sarcasm. I see your point.” He paused only a moment before shedding his suit jacket and draping it across her lap. “There,” he said with a grin. “All fixed. Just be careful not to make any sudden moves. You never know what I have in my pockets.”
Thinking of the odd spectacles and the things she had noticed last night, she had to wonder.
Still, her reputation would remain safely guarded and her letter would be posted. As he set the buggy in motion again, Flora resigned herself to a partial victory.
As they neared the bustling downtown area of Eureka Springs, she gave brief consideration to an escape. However, the thought of a possible arrest warrant frightened her almost as much as her grandmother’s reaction should Flora arrive back at their suite wearing a Pinkerton agent’s handcuffs.
In stark contrast to the lush forests of the surrounding countryside, the streets of Eureka Springs were narrow and winding. Ramshackle buildings edged in amongst hotels and bathhouses, all hugging the muddy thoroughfares with only the most rugged of walkways to separate them. Here and there gaps in the wood, limestone, or brick structures gave way to rock formations that, in places, trickled with the same spring water that bathers paid dearly to soak away their ailments.
The sidewalks, such as they were, teemed with people who appeared not to care whether they edged one another out of the limited space and into the muddy street. Occasionally Flora spied an oversized feathered hat or a flash of finely made skirts that might indicate someone of her social set. Thus, she kept her head low and her handcuffs well hidden beneath Mr. McMinn’s coat.
When the buggy paused near the intersection of Spring and Short Streets, it only took a moment for attention to be drawn their way. “Truly, Mr. McMinn,” Flora said. “Might you dispense with these handcuffs and allow me to post the letter myself? People who know me could be within sight, and I—”
“You’re staying put, Miss Brimm. Unless you’ve changed your mind. I’m sure the sheriff would be happy to let you roam a jail cell without those handcuffs.”
Ignoring him rather than offering a response seemed prudent. Still, she couldn’t help wishing she had some means of removing the ridiculous restraints. With obvious reluctance she extracted the letter from her reticule and gave it to him.
“You, boy!” The lawman gestured toward a youth who might have been a newspaper hawker or perhaps in the business of shining shoes. He showed the ragamuffin three coins and nodded toward the post office across the street. “What do you say? Will you see that the postmaster sends this out?”
The young man adjusted his cap and offered a gap-toothed grin. “It’s a deal, mister!”
Mr. McMinn handed over the letter and the coins and watched until the messenger disappeared inside the building. As the buggy moved away from the post office, Flora looked back to be certain the boy had indeed done as he’d been charged.
“Worried about something?” Mr. McMinn asked as he guided the horse back up the narrow street.
“Just making sure the letter gets posted.”
He gave her a quick sideways look. “You wouldn’t want your father to miss the news of your wedding, would you?”
She gasped. “How did you know what the letter said?” She paused to reflect on a better choice of words, and then she began again. “About that. While I appreciate your need to follow through on your commitment to whatever case you’re working on, I would very much like you to allow my marriage to go forward as scheduled. So if at all possible, could you conclude your business with Mr. Tucker today?”
Mr. McMinn laughed even as he urged the horse around a throng of buggies and wagons. “Miss Brimm, you are possibly the most self-centered woman I have ever had the bad sense to join forces with.”
To correct his assumption and let the man know her concern was for home and family rather than herself would be counterproductive at this point. And likely he wouldn’t believe her anyway, especially if he had indeed secured a warrant for her arrest.
So Flora remained silent, her back straight and her expression such that anyone who might recognize her would think she was merely out for an afternoon drive with a handsome acquaintance. Unfortunately, her acquaintance had the irritating habit of tipping his hat and making conversation with every person who slowed down their drive.
By the time the carriage had traveled the length of downtown, Flora was ready to scream. When three pigs, two children, and a goat ran out in front of them, she did. Loudly and without apology.
Thankfully, he was able to maneuver around the obstacles without calamity, though she had to wonder how he managed it. She might have asked except that she spied the unmistakable form of the railroad executive who had hosted her and Grandmama for dinner just two nights ago. And with him was his wife, who had quizzed Flora at length about her unmarried state.
Flora immediately slid to the floor, where she hid as best she could under Mr. McMinn’s jacket. While the sounds and smells of Eureka Springs were only slightly muffled, she hoped she might be hidden well enough to keep the gossips from talking.
“You’re awfully skittish,” he commented as the buggy began the climb up toward the Crescent Hotel.
“With good reason,” Flora snapped.
“Oh, I see.” He chuckled. “I guess you’re not keen on being seen with the likes of me.”
“Actually, I’m unsure as to which of two issues of concern would most damage my reputation.”
One dark brow lifted. “Oh, do tell me what those are, darlin’,” he said with an exaggerated drawl. “I care so much for all of your issues of concern.”
“Thank you,” she said, as sweetly and sarcastically as she could manage despite her predicament. “Since you asked, I’ll be happy to tell you. Not only would it be disastrous to be seen riding through the middle of Eureka Springs with handcuffs—that’s awful enough—but worse?” She shrugged as she feigned abject horror. “What if someone actually thought I was enjoying a ride with you?” A shudder completed the statement, though she wasn’t keen on glancing over to see how he had taken her jab.
“At least I remained in my seat. I wonder if anyone spied the drunken woman who couldn’t remain upright long enough for the law to discreetly return her to her hotel?”
“Of all the nerve!” Flora fixed Mr. McMinn with a withering look. Unfortunately, he ignored her. Finally, she tired of staring and turned her attention to twisting around so as to be in a position to climb back onto the seat.
She took in a deep breath of pine-scented air and let it out slowly. With her hands bound by the cuffs, her corset far too tight for exertion, and her pride dented, Flora found the process difficult at best. Each time she managed to get her elbow up on the seat, the buggy would hit some sort of rut and she would bounce back down on the floor. After a point, she suspected the lawman was not completely innocent in this, though his expression belied the fact.
She peered up at him. “Mr. McMinn, I demand you either help me or release the handcuffs so that I might help myself.”
“You demand?” He paused to allow his eyes to sweep over her before returning his attention to the road ahead. “From where I sit, you don’t appear to be in a position to demand anything, Miss Brimm.”
“And yet eventually you will have to explain to someone why you returned to the Crescent Hotel with Flora Brimm trussed up and cowering on the floor of your buggy. For if I am such a wanted woman, you would have seen me jailed. Instead, you’re forcibly returning me to the hotel in handcuffs. Inquiring minds might ask what nefarious purpose you have in mind.” A pause for effect. “And me, a defenseless woman?”
“Defenseless?” His tone combined with an inelegant snort told her his opinion of the thought. “Miss Brimm, were I to testify in court as to many of your other attributes, lunacy among them, I would have much to say on the matter. But defenseless? A woman who treats a walk on a fourth-floor ledge like a stroll in the park? Hardly.”
“Fine.” She maneuvered around to alleviate a cramp jabbing at her shoulder and fixed her eyes on the canopy of bright green leaves overhead. Lord, You are in control, not this overbearing fool. While I know I’m supposed to love all Your children, I just cannot imagine You meant him too.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m praying.”
He flicked the reins and the horse picked up its pace. “While you’re at it, say a prayer for me.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve already mentioned you.” Flora slid him a look. “Twice.”
“I see.” He nodded toward the road. “We’re almost back to the hotel. I’m going to strike a deal with you. I’ll take off those handcuffs if you’ll promise not to run.”
“Brimms do not run,” she said as the wheels bounced over another rut and she braced herself against the seat. “Except for office.”
“Right.” He pulled back on the reins until the buggy came to a stop. Slowly he swiveled to look down at her. “And Pinkertons don’t run either. They shoot.”
“Then neither of us has anything to worry about, do we? Now get these handcuffs off.” At his cross expression, she said, “Please?”
He hauled her up onto the seat as if she weighed nothing and waited while she settled into place. When she held her hands out in his direction, he drew the key from his pocket. “Hold still now,” he said as he grasped her wrists.
Flora did, but the horse did not as a hawk swooped nearby and caused the mare to jolt. The lawman fumbled with the key and then lost it on the floor. Retrieving the key while holding tightly to the reins took some time, but Mr. McMinn finally emerged victorious. This time, he quickly stabbed the key into place and released the lock on the cuff encircling her right hand.
As the cold metal fell away, Flora flexed her wrist and offered up the other. “What?” she asked when he shook his head.
“No, I think I’ll wait on removing that one,” he said as he dropped the key into his vest pocket.
“Wait?” She shook her arm and felt the cuff’s weight against her skin. The other half of the contraption dangled free, its cold metal sliding against her palm until she grasped it with her fingers. “Stop joking and remove this at once. I’ve done what you asked.”
“No, not completely.” He settled back in his seat and set the horse in motion again. “I’ll remove the other handcuff when you hold up your end of the bargain. Until I get Tucker, you get to wear the cuff.”
“Of all the nerve! I am completely trustworthy, and I resent the fact that you assume otherwise.”
“Trustworthy?” His irritating chuckle made her want to pinch him. “If you recall, Miss Brimm, I first made your acquaintance behind a collection of potted plants. I was there on official business, but you? I believe we can agree you were not looking for a chessboard.” He held up his hand to prevent a response. “Then there was our little stroll on the fourth-floor ledge. And I can’t say as I would call a woman who waltzes across the dance floor and into an elevator with a stranger—”
“I did not dance with you into the elevator, sir,” she said, her patience nearly at its end.
“Fair enough. But I have the key to those cuffs, and you’re the one who still needs to finish your part in this investigation. Find Tucker and I’ll take off the other one.”
Apparently this was Mr. McMinn’s final word on the subject, for he turned his attention to the road ahead and did not spare Flora another glance. A few minutes later, the carriage rolled up the final hill, and the cedars and pines parted to allow the Crescent Hotel to come into view.
Flora pulled her sleeve down over the cuff on her wrist and then reached for her reticule. The drawstring bag, if situated just right, would allow the other handcuff to slide down inside where only the chain connecting the two pieces would be visible. At best, she would draw no attention. At worst, she might appear as if she wore some sort of odd chained purse on her arm. Either was preferable to walking through the lobby of the Crescent Hotel with the restraint in full view.
“Welcome back, Miss Brimm, Mr. McMinn.” This from the same doorman who had led her to her doom less than a half hour ago. Though his expression did not show any emotion, he averted his gaze when she turned toward him.
“Why, thank you,” she said as sweetly as she could manage, and then she allowed the fellow to help her down from the carriage.
Mr. McMinn waited until the doorman came around to take the reins and then walked over to join Flora at the curb. “All right, my dear,” he said as he offered her his arm. “Shall we?”
Flora shook her head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not offer the other guests any indication of familiarity between the two of us, sir. We have a business deal pending and nothing else.”
His dark gaze swept the length of her in a manner that might have caused a lesser woman’s knees to buckle. “I see,” he said slowly. “So basically it’s the same as your engagement. Just a business deal.”
Flora gasped. How could he know this? But before she could respond with any sort of well-formed protest, the Pinkerton agent had pressed his palm against her back and was guiding her through the open front doors of the hotel.
“Shall I give you Mr. Tucker’s room number?” she asked as they passed the front desk.
“You’re going with me anyway, Miss Brimm. Lead on.” He ushered her to the elevator, and then he shadowed her every step until they reached the second floor. “Which room is his?”
She told him and then asked, “Should I knock or do you prefer I leave you here to do that yourself?”
“Oh, no,” Mr. McMinn said. “I have no assurance the man I’m looking for is behind that door. You’re coming with me. And yes, I believe I’ll have you knock. I’ll stand out of the way. You get him to open the door and I’ll do the rest.”
She held out her hand. “What about the handcuffs?”
“I’ll take them off once I have Tucker.”
Flora shook her head. “But what if I run?” she asked in her most sarcastic tone.
“And not for office?” was his quick response. “You won’t. Not when I have the only key. I have a feeling that no matter what happens after you knock on that door, you won’t go far until I reclaim my cuffs. Let’s get this over with.”
Flora took a few steps toward the room Mr. Tucker had indicated was his and then stopped to turn and face her captor. “You do realize I am only helping you because I believe Mr. Tucker is innocent.”
“Of course. I have no doubt you believe that. You also want those cuffs off. Now, can we please get back to business?”
“Yes, but I want you to understand why I’m doing this—”
“I understand just fine.” He nodded to her wrist. “It doesn’t hurt that you know you’ll be trotted back down the hill to be handed over to the sheriff if you don’t cooperate.”
He had her there. Still, she managed to give the man a look she hoped would show him how wrong he was.
“Come on,” he urged. “I don’t like standing out here. We’re starting to look obvious.”
She nodded and straightened her back, clutching the reticule so the chain wouldn’t clink. When she reached the proper door, Flora lifted her free hand to knock twice.
And then twice again.
Nothing.
She looked over at the man who had flattened himself against the wall, his right hand now resting on the barrel of a pistol tucked into a holster under his jacket.
“Knock again. It wouldn’t hurt to call him by name, either. Criminals can be a skittish bunch.”
She rolled her eyes and then complied, calling Mr. Tucker’s name as she implored him to open the door. Again there was no response. Flora looked to Mr. McMinn for their next move.
He reached over to wrap his fingers around the doorknob and then slowly turned it. As the door cracked open, Flora peered inside. He nodded as if urging her to enter.
She shook her head. “A lady,” she whispered, “does not enter the room of—”
Mr. McMinn pressed his palm to her back and gave her a gentle push, sending Flora through the open door. When she turned around to glare at him, she instead watched him press past her.
“He’s gone.”