An Agent for Esme Read online

  “She’s in police custody now, and our client intends to press full charges,” Michael continued. “We were thanked most profusely and were offered a vast amount of pie and cake in addition to our fee. We accepted the pie. We did not accept the cake.”

  Archie’s mustache twitched. “So, the case has been concluded?”

  “Yes, sir,” Matthew said. “Our report is final.”

  “Very good.” Archie sat back and interlaced his fingers across his stomach. “This puts both of you at loose ends for now, doesn’t it?”

  They nodded.

  “We’ve been contacted by the Chicago office for help with a missing agent case in Santa Fe. They sent a female agent out here to consult with us and to borrow a male agent to take with her to complete the assignment. This lady agent . . .” Archie shook his head. “She’s a pistol, that one. She’s very focused, very straightforward. She’s sure pretty to look at, though, I must say.”

  “We ran into her in the garden just now,” Matthew said. “She seems pleasant enough.”

  “Oh, she’s pleasant—she’s just also very unamused by life in general.” Archie shook his head again. “At least with her as your partner, you’re likely to get the case cleared up in record time, and she’ll probably handle all the paperwork too just to make sure it’s done right. Are either of you interested in volunteering, or should I just assign you?”

  Michael and Matthew glanced at each other. “I’ll volunteer,” Matthew said. “I wouldn’t mind getting out of Denver for a while, and I know you were probably joking, but if she really will do the paperwork, that’s an added bonus.”

  Archie nodded and made another note on his sheet of paper. “Very good. Oh, there’s the dinner bell. I’ll introduce the two of you formally after the meal.”

  The men stood up and walked toward the dining room. Matthew wasn’t sure why Archie had seemed so reluctant about this particular assignment. It was almost as if he was holding back some things he wanted to say, but that wasn’t like him. Matthew supposed he’d find out whatever it was soon enough.

  Chapter Two

  Agent Gordon introduced Esmerelda to the table at large as they were sitting down to dinner, and the agents seated on either side of her engaged her in small talk throughout the meal. She supposed they were just being friendly, but small talk had always irritated her, as it seemed to have no purpose except for passing the time. She’d rather discuss things that meant something, but one had to endure all the little games that went along with being successful in society. Society. What a ridiculous concept anyway.

  She had noticed Agent Harrison watching her contemplatively from across the table, and she suspected he was the one who’d been assigned to her. She in turn began to watch him, thinking that she might as well begin her evaluation of him so he wouldn’t be too far ahead. He was a nice-looking man, probably near her same age of twenty-five, and from what she recalled from meeting him in the garden, he was likely around six feet tall. He wore his dark blond hair to his collar, and he had no facial hair. His eyes were blue, and she could detect no distinguishing marks that would make it easy to describe him should he ever go missing or need to be featured on a wanted poster.

  He seemed to have a good sense of humor—she noticed him laughing with his fellow agents quite frequently. He also seemed to know when to be quiet, which was a trait she wished everyone could develop in equal amounts. Silence was a blessing more often than not. She wondered what conclusions he was drawing of her with his surreptitious evaluation.

  At the close of the meal, Agent Gordon rose and asked Esmerelda and Agent Harrison to return to his office. Once there, he invited them to be seated.

  “Agent Carter, Agent Harrison has just completed a case, and he’s interested in assisting with yours. He’s quite skilled in doing undercover work, he’s an expert decoder, he speaks Spanish fluently, and he’s a champion boxer. I’m sure that one or more of those skills will come in handy over the course of your investigation.”

  “Yes, I’m sure they will,” Esmerelda replied, turning to face Agent Harrison. “I’m glad to have you on board. We can discuss the details of the case on the train, if that suits you. Are you ready to leave first thing in the morning?”

  Agent Harrison blinked, but if he was surprised, it wasn’t evident in his voice when he replied, “I’m always ready.”

  “Good.” She turned back to Agent Gordon. “Now, as far as our wedding. I imagine you can arrange that rather quickly, can’t you? Considering that it’s just a formality and that we don’t intend to celebrate, I should think that we could get it handled right away.”

  Agent Gordon nodded. “Yes, that won’t be a problem. Judge Hotchkiss was coming over for breakfast in the morning anyway—we’ll put him to work while he’s here.”

  “Excellent.” She looked over at Agent Harrison. “Do you have any questions for me?”

  “Just one. Have you always been called Esmerelda?”

  She paused, completely taken aback. “That’s your question? You don’t want additional information about the case or anything?”

  He shrugged. “You said we’d discuss it on the train, and that’s fine with me. I can wait.”

  “Oh. Well, yes, I’ve always been called Esmerelda. It’s . . . it’s my name. What else should I be called?”

  “It’s just a bit time-consuming to say. If we’re, for instance, running down a dark alley after our prey and we’re being shot at, and I need to call out to you, those are precious seconds we could lose.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting that we could risk losing this case because my name is too long?”

  “Or risk getting shot. The possibilities are endless.”

  She just stared at him. “Agent Harrison, I believe you’re trying to make a joke, but I’m not sure I understand it or appreciate it. What possible difference could my name make under those circumstances?”

  “All the difference, Agent Carter, and so I plan to call you Esme instead.”

  She sat back. “Esme? You can’t . . . you can’t just change my name. That’s absurd, and there’s no reason for it whatsoever. You’re just being . . . well, you’re being ridiculous. It’s a difference of two syllables, and no one ever lost their life because of two syllables.”

  Agent Gordon held up a hand. “Why don’t the two of you figure this out independently? I have some work to finish up, and frankly, you’re giving me a headache.”

  “Of course, Agent Gordon.” Esmerelda came to her feet. “I didn’t mean to involve you in our little dispute. I’m sure we can solve it amicably ourselves.”

  “Yes, I’m sure we can,” Agent Harrison replied. “Esme seems like a very reasonable sort of lady—we shouldn’t have any trouble at all.”

  She glared at him, but didn’t say anything until they were in the hallway. Then she whirled on him. “Just what is going on, Agent Harrison? I feel as though you’re taking my position as an agent in this organization and making a mockery of it and me. I’ve a good mind to insist that you call me Agent Carter and nothing else until the conclusion of this case.”

  “That would be awkward, considering that we’re getting married,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning on the doorjamb.

  She closed her eyes and counted to three before responding. “Are you trying to get out of this assignment? I thought you volunteered—doesn’t that mean you’re willing to come with me?”

  “I’m very willing. I just think it would be easier to get along if we were on more familiar terms with each other, and frankly, your name builds a fence and keeps people out.”

  She straightened her spine. “My name has been in my family for four generations. It comes from the Spanish for ‘emerald,’ and it has been passed down with the most thoughtful consideration from my ancestors. I see nothing whatsoever wrong with it.”

  “I’m perfectly aware of its origins—if you’ll recall, I speak fluent Spanish,” Agent Harrison said. “You, on the other
hand, don’t seem very Spanish at all, with that blonde hair.”

  “Not all Spaniards are dark,” she retorted. “There’s actually quite a variety of coloring to be found, especially in the northern part of the country. Now, could we please bring an end to this ridiculous argument? I’ve checked the train schedule, and one departs for Santa Fe at ten o’clock in the morning. Do you suppose we’ll be able to meet with the judge and be on our way by then?”

  “I imagine so.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

  “Goodnight, dear,” he called after her as she climbed the staircase. She completely ignored him.

  ***

  “That woman . . .” Matthew pulled off his shoes and tossed them into the corner. “She could try the skin off a mosquito.”

  Jonah leaned against Matthew’s doorframe, an amused smile on his face. “Are you starting to regret volunteering for this case?’

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Matthew rested his elbows on his knees. “If she had even loosened up one little bit during our entire conversation, maybe I wouldn’t have been so hard on her, but no—she sat there ramrod straight, her hands folded, her grammar perfect, every little detail so precise. It’s like she’s not even real. I had to do something to ruffle her up a little and make sure she actually possesses a beating heart. She does, but it’s an ornery one.”

  “At least you won’t have to train her,” Jonah pointed out. “That’s got to make things easier.”

  “It might be easier to train someone from the ground up than to endure this woman and her criticisms. At least when you’re training someone, they respect you. She doesn’t respect me in the slightest, and she made that very plain.” He thought about it for a minute. “Of course, I didn’t give her much reason to, but still, there are certain courtesies you give someone automatically.”

  Jonah nodded. “So, you’re leaving tomorrow morning?”

  “As soon as the judge marries us, yes.”

  Jonah chuckled. “That’s right—I’d forgotten about that part. So you get to be this Medusa’s husband, do you? I wish I could be there to see it—even as a fly on the wall. Do you know anyone who could turn me into a fly on the wall?”

  “I don’t—I’m sorry.” Matthew unbuttoned his collar. “I’m sure we’ll all come out of it unscathed. Or at least, only moderately injured. I tell you this, though—by the time this case is solved, I intend to have made her laugh at least once. A true, genuine laugh. If I can do that, I’ll consider it a success.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  “If she doesn’t . . .” Matthew shook his head. “Then she’s not really human after all.”

  Jonah wished him luck and headed off to his own room down the hall, and Matthew finished getting ready for bed. It would only take him a moment to pack—he kept most of his things in his bag already so he was always prepared. A moment to wash up, another to change his clothes, and then he’d be on his way. On his way across the desert with a woman who just might end up being the death of him. He refused to let her get under his skin, though. She could try, and he could see that she certainly had the skill, but he wouldn’t let her. Only he could choose how he reacted to things, and he would choose to stay calm. It would be a nice counterbalance to her propensity toward melodrama.

  Chapter Three

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Judge Hotchkiss gave them a dour look. “I don’t suppose you want me to tell you to kiss.”

  “No, thank you,” Esmerelda replied. “We’ll be just fine without that little bit of tradition.”

  He nodded. “Very well. I suggest you head off to the train station, then.”

  Esmerelda thanked him again and walked toward the door, where her bag had been set to wait for her. She’d seen no reason to leave it upstairs when she came down for breakfast—it made much more sense to bring it down to begin with and save herself an extra trip. She noticed that Agent Harrison’s bag was also near the front door, only on the opposite side, as though trying to get as far away from hers as possible. She supposed it was all right if their bags didn’t get along—this was business, after all. Not romance.

  “I packed you a little something for the train,” Pearl said, scurrying up to her with a bundle in her hands. “Agent Harrison loves peach tarts, so I made sure to include some of those, but I don’t know what you like best, Agent Carter.” Her tone was apologetic.

  “I’ve enjoyed all your cooking so far, Pearl, and I’m sure I’ll appreciate this as well. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”

  Pearl seemed embarrassed. “I just hate sending someone on a long train ride without something to eat, especially when you never know what’s available along the way.”

  Agent Harrison came up alongside them, taking the bundle from Pearl’s hands. “Thank you, Pearl. You’re an angel.”

  Her pale cheeks blushed. “Nothing of the sort, but you’re welcome.” She scuttled back to the kitchen, looking pleased.

  Agent Harrison turned to Esmerelda. “Shall we be on our way?”

  “Yes, let’s.” She picked up her bag and opened the door, purposely not bothering to hold it open for him. If he was going to put himself in charge of the snacks, he could very well figure out how to carry everything and open the doors too.

  A buggy stood waiting out front, which Esmerelda was relieved to see. After walking to the office the previous day, she didn’t want to repeat the experience.

  Once they were in the buggy and heading down the street, Esmerelda turned to Agent Harrison. It was time to clear the air. “I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve come to the realization that I overreacted last night when you asked about giving me a nickname. If the word ‘Esmerelda’ is too difficult for you to say, I agree that we should shorten it.”

  He glanced at her, smirking. “That’s an interesting way you have of apologizing, but I accept. For my part, I apologize for being overly friendly. I realized afterwards that perhaps you’re the sort of person who doesn’t care to have friends, and I shouldn’t have assumed otherwise.”

  Didn’t want to have friends? What on earth did he mean by that? “I believe that friendship is something that is developed over time,” she replied carefully.

  “Yes. Let’s take lots and lots of time so we can develop it correctly. To that end, I have no problem calling you Agent Carter when no one is listening, but on those occasions when we’re supposed to be married, I’ll call you Esme.” He settled back in his seat as though everything was perfectly well decided.

  She opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, but then nodded. She had to push past this for the good of the case—she’d worked with difficult partners before. She could do it again.

  They reached the train station in good time, checked their bags with the porter, and found their seats. As the other passengers boarded, she took note of them, hoping none would sit where they’d be likely to overhear the sensitive conversation she and Agent Harrison needed to have. The noise of the train would make it difficult in and of itself, and if anyone was sitting too close, they might just have to wait until they stopped at a hotel for the night.

  She commented as such to Agent Harrison.

  “You don’t want to ride straight through?” he asked, seeming surprised.

  “It’s a distance of nearly four hundred miles. Are you suggesting that you’d be comfortable that entire distance?” Was he trying to prove his masculinity by making such an outrageous suggestion?

  He shrugged. “You just seemed so impatient to get out of Denver, I thought you had a reason for wanting to reach Santa Fe sooner—the missing agent, perhaps.”

  “I simply can’t imagine riding four hundred miles on a train without proper rest to break it up. I do want to reach Santa Fe, but we must keep our wits about us.”

  “I don’t have any argument with that. I just wanted to clarify your plans.”

  She nodded, somewhat mollified, and folded her hands in her lap to wait for the chaos to calm down. There
were so many people boarding the train, chattering with their travel companions, calling out to the conductor that it would actually be a pleasant change when the noise of the train itself started up.

  Once they were underway, Esmerelda glanced around and saw that they could likely speak without being overheard. That was good—she’d disliked the idea of waiting, especially when they had hours ahead of them with nothing else to do but talk.

  Gathering up her skirts, she moved from her seat across from Agent Harrison to sit next to him, which would make it easier to converse. He lifted an eyebrow at her sudden closeness, but didn’t say anything. Which was just as well because anything he did say was likely to be uncouth.

  “The agent in question is named Robert White. The Santa Fe Pinkerton office was brought in to help investigate a large number of guns and ammunition being brought up from Mexico and cached in various locations in New Mexico. There are rumors of some kind of planned uprising against the government. The letter my office received wasn’t very detailed and we’ll need to ask for more information when we arrive, but we’ve been told that Agent White has been out of communication for some time now, and they’re concerned.”

  “So they’re asking for help from other offices? Why not send agents from their local office?” Agent Harrison asked.

  “They’ve done what investigating they can, but each of the agents have received a warning of sorts that their covers have been compromised.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? What kind of warnings?”

  Esmerelda glanced around to make sure they still had their privacy. “The head of the office, Agent Bleaker, found a dead bird on his doorstep a few weeks ago. That’s not so unusual, but this one had a ribbon tied around it like a present. Then one of the other agents found a dead cat with a ribbon on his porch. Every single agent in that office received a similar gift over the course of that week.”

  “And they’re convinced that was done by these insurgents?”