Sadie's Secret: 3 (The Secret Lives of Will Tucker) (8 page)

“Expecting someone?” her companion asked.

“Yes. The Pinkerton agent who will be escorting you the rest of the way to Mobile.”

Sadie waited for the door to open, only to find that the man had apparently moved on. “Perhaps he has elected to remain outside with the driver.”

Mr. Tucker shook his head. “I’ll have to register my disappointment at the sad state of the Pinkerton agency and its employees.”

“How so?”

“I had hoped I’d be sent someone who would be smart enough to come in out of the rain.”

“You didn’t want to.” Again she wished to take back the words.

“Not exactly true.” He looked down at the clothes he wore and then back at her. “A man has his pride.”

“And I have trampled on it. Now it is my turn to apologize.”

Sadie rode the remainder of the way in silence, the better to keep herself from owing the man across from her yet another apology. When the carriage drew to a halt in front of a hotel whose name she could not read through the rain-splattered windows, she gathered up her things and waited until Sam opened the door.

“This is where we part ways, Mr. Tucker.”

He captured her gaze. “Then let me thank you one last time for the assistance you’ve given me in retrieving my watch and my freedom.”

“Again, I was—”

“Just doing your job.” He smiled. “Yes, I know. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to see if I can find a place where I can get another set of clothes and then a bath and a shave.”

“According to my instructions, there should be clothes waiting for you in your hotel room. And I’m sure they will accommodate you here for a bath.”

His hands rested on his knees, his fingers drumming a tune and making Jefferson Tucker look more like a nervous boy than a man who had only just been released from prison. “Then all that remains is a shave and a haircut.”

“Sam will accompany you wherever you need to go. I’ll see that your key is left at the front desk. I believe the rooms have been taken under the name of Callum.”

“I won’t forget that,” he said. “Or you.”

The driver jerked the door open and looked at him with a wary expression before turning to Sadie. “Ready, ma’am?”

“Yes, Sam. If you’ll just help me get inside, I’ll be fine. Mr. Tucker will be getting a shave and haircut. Will you please see to any other needs he may have?”

“For you, I will.”

“Thank you.” She turned her attention to the man sitting across from her. “Good day, Mr. Tucker.”

Any response the former prisoner might have made was lost in the pounding of rain against the tin roof and the clatter of a wagon pulled by oxen rolling down the street. When Sadie had descended from the carriage and looked back, the door was shut tight, leaving her to assume Mr. Tucker was now dodging raindrops on his way to the barbershop with the replacement agent on his heels.

“Please enjoy whatever’s left in the basket my uncle packed,” she told Sam after he had bundled her inside the hotel with his overcoat draped above her head to keep her dry. “And share it with the other agent.”

“That’s awful kind, ma’am, but it’s just me. That rider was just a messenger. He left a note for you and said for us to go on and get settled for the night. The agent will meet up with us at the hotel in the morning.”

“That wasn’t the plan.”

“The fellow said levee breaks and flooding has our man delayed until morning, and that’s all he knew. I figured the delivery of the message could wait until I got you inside and dry. He said we were fortunate to not be making the journey a week ago when most of the roads near the river were impassable.”

“And yet I’m sure Mr. Tucker wishes the opposite.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sadie accepted the slightly damp envelope and then offered another word of thanks as she tucked it into her valise. A look around the tidy but humble reception room told her this was not the type of hotel she had enjoyed in Chicago.

It was, however, a place where any casual visitor to the city might walk past without realizing there were rooms to be had. Likely Henry chose the place for that very reason.

“I reckon Mr. Tucker knows where to find you when he’s ready,” Sam said. “Or should I go and make sure he comes back soon as he has his shave and haircut?”

“Oh, yes, please. Until the replacement agent arrives, he’s under my care. I just assumed the other Pinkerton was with him. In any case, I will see that you’re compensated if you’ll just keep close to him until then.”

He stepped away, and then she called him back. “Sam?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

Sadie chose her words carefully. “About Mr. Tucker. I was under the impression that the Pinkertons would furnish him with a decent suit of clothes. Do you know anything about that?”

“Ma’am, I reckon those clothes were decent once upon a time, but they sure aren’t now.”

“No, I mean a new set was to be provided.”

“Not that I know of, though it’s possible the fellow who’s meeting us tomorrow may bring extra clothes with him.”

To make the poor man wait until tomorrow for clean clothes seemed most inhumane. She frowned and then opened her reticule to retrieve a sufficient amount of cash to cover the items. “Would you see that he gets something suitable?”

“I will, ma’am,” he said as he ducked back outside.

Within minutes the efficient staff had Sadie and her belongings in a comfortable but sparse room on the second floor overlooking the main road. Her first order of business was to open the envelope the driver had given her.

Floods prevented train from departing on time. Expect to arrive Baton Rouge late tonight. Will update if needed.

Jefferson ducked his head under the water again, holding his breath. He hadn’t had a bath in so long he’d forgotten how good it felt to be clean. Intending to stay in the tub until the water was too cold to bear, he would get out no sooner than then.

Combined with a shave and a haircut, he felt like a new man. The knock on the door must mean his clothes were being delivered.

“Just put them on the bed,” he called.

No response.

“Hello?” he said. Another knock was his answer.

Reluctantly he climbed out and wrapped a length of toweling around himself. Still dripping, he padded to the door just as someone knocked yet again.

“The bed would do just fine,” he said as he opened the door.

Two men stepped in, neither of them carrying clothes. And then the room tilted and the lights went out.

He awoke a few minutes later when someone slapped him. This time, Jefferson’s instincts kicked in, and he landed a punch on the nearest thug’s jaw.

Not waiting to see the results, he whirled around on the other man and waylaid him with a swift blow to the midsection that doubled him over. A quick look over his shoulder, and he spied the first man laid out on the floor, one hand cradling his face.

“What’s going on in here?” The driver who had bundled him up and thrown him into the carriage outside the prison rushed into the room. The one who had shadowed him to the barber and back as if he were some sort of paid nursemaid.

“These two came to pay me a visit,” he said as he surveyed the pair, both dark-haired and looking enough alike that they might be related. “Any idea who they are?”

“No,” the driver said. “I’ve never seen these men. You want me to get rid of them for you?”

“I think they’re able to get up and walk out on their own. Aren’t you, boys?”

“Not going anywhere without her,” the man on the floor said.

“Her?” Jefferson demanded.

“We’re looking for Sarah Callum,” the fellow with the sore jaw said as he gave Jefferson a look that might have held more danger had he been able to stand. “What have you done with her?”

“Sarah Callum?” Jefferson said as he recognized the name of the Pinkerton lady. “I think you boys have made a mistake. I am the only one staying in this room.”

The man who had taken the blow to the midsection rose up on his hands and knees, his face still contorted with what was unmistakably pain. “There’s no mistake. The clerk said this was her room.”

“Well, the clerk is wrong.” Jefferson looked to the driver for confirmation. “You want to let them know there’s no one in this hotel by that name?”

And there wasn’t. He’d spied the lovely lady slipping into the dress shop across the street while he was waiting for the bathtub to fill.

“He’s right,” the driver said. “Now, which one of you wants to explain to the law why you’re breaking into a hotel room and causing a ruckus with an innocent man?”

“We didn’t intend to cause any trouble,” Sore Jaw said. “When she left the jail, we…”

So the pair had been following Sadie. “Go on,” Jefferson demanded. “And while you’re at it, you can explain why you were playing hide-and-seek with this Sarah woman.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he protested. “See, we were just trying to keep her…”

“Keep her what? Frightened?”

“No,” they said in unison.

“Then what?” He looked to the other fellow.

The men exchanged looks but said nothing.

Whatever the reason, these two obviously weren’t keen on giving the cause of their interest in the pretty Pinkerton agent.

Jefferson adjusted his towel and then strode over to Sore Gut and helped him stand. Rather than speak, he glared.

“Looks like we made a mistake, mister,” the stranger said. “We don’t mean any trouble.”

“Well, it’s too late for that because you’ve troubled me plenty. And my guess is you must have been troubling that woman you mentioned as well. Not the kind of man I tend to tolerate.”

Grabbing his arm, Jefferson guided the man to the door and threw him out into the hallway, where he landed on his behind. Sore Jaw followed of his own accord, although Jefferson gave him a solid push to send him hurrying out of the room.

“I’ll forgive the error if you get out of town the same way you came in. If I see you again, I won’t bother to take it easy on you next time. You’ll be lucky if the law catches up to you before I do. And leave the spying to the professionals. Got it?”

Both men scrambled up and out in record time.

“Want I should follow them?” the driver asked. “I don’t cotton to the idea of anyone looking for our Miss Callum, especially when there’s two of them and only one of her.”

Our Miss Callum.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be sure they hightail it out of town like they said they would,” Jefferson said. “Maybe you could just stand out front to see that they don’t return to the hotel. With the train station just down the road, maybe they’ll get the idea and leave without any further trouble.”

The driver—hadn’t Miss Callum called him Sam?—gave Jefferson a curt nod and then set off down the hall in the direction the pair had gone.

So much for enjoying my bath,
Jefferson thought as he closed the door. Instead, he hurried into his new suit of clothes Sam had on his arm when he came in and did his best to comb his hair.

Those two hadn’t argued about leaving, and yet Jefferson didn’t feel any better about the lady being out alone. He’d find her and see that she was safe. It was his duty as a gentleman and the least he could do.

A gentleman without any sort of weapon. His anger flared. Then he saw his watch.

The Pinkerton lady had saved him, and he owed her. Snatching up his grandfather’s prized possession, he set out to see what he could do to even the score by making a trade for the revolver he had spied in the shop next to the barber.

Whoever those two were, they wouldn’t get past Jefferson Tucker again.