Anna Finch and the Hired Gun (12 page)

“Did I hear my name?”

Anna jumped. Edwin Beck stood beside her.

He offered a courtly bow. “Might I have this dance, Miss Finch?”

“Dance?” She looked up into his green eyes, and her feet refused to move.

“A waltz, to be precise. Surely you’ve heard of it.” Daniel’s brother placed his hand against her back and moved Anna toward the dance floor. “If not, I’ll be happy to offer instruction.”

As Edwin led her to the center of the dance floor, Anna spotted the strange man again. He still watched, still moved on the edge of the room. A woman paused to speak to him, and he leaned toward her. She smiled, and he nodded.

“After you,” Edwin Beck said. With his persistent push, Anna found herself in the midst of the crowd and no longer able to see the stranger. “We’ll have to begin dancing now, Miss Finch, or the others will run us over.”

“What? Oh yes, of course.” She stepped into the waltz and found Edwin to be a delightful dance partner. After a few moments, she was even able to relax and enjoy the music and the elegant flow of the dance.

Until Edwin whirled her around, and she came face to face with the stranger. And saw the familiar scar.

Jeb moved away from the dance floor and into the shadows at the edge of the room before he got too close to Anna Finch again. Until he decided his plan, there would be no contact with the subject. At least she hadn’t recognized him, though he had certainly recognized her.

He stole another glance at her. There was no doubt the woman gliding around the dance floor wearing the latest in Paris fashion began the previous day wearing oversized trousers and a working man’s shirt. Working
boy
, Jeb amended as he assessed her size, remembering he’d already held her against him twice.

And not at a safe distance, as Beck’s brother did now.

“Not a bad assignment compared to some, eh?” a voice at his side said.

Jeb barely took his eyes off the woman he was being paid to shadow long enough to acknowledge Daniel’s presence. “Think so?”

“Sure beats passing as a miner or taking fire from train robbers.” Daniel nudged him. “I see you’ve noticed she’s pleasing to the eye.”

Jeb might have nodded. He wasn’t completely sure. “But dangerous when armed.”

“I’m sorry?”

He spared Daniel a moment’s attention. “Don’t be. As you said, I’ve handled worse.”

“You say you’re following Anna until an announcement of her marriage is given?” When Jeb grunted, Daniel continued. “Perhaps the assignment will be brief, then. I think my new chief of security is besotted.”

Jeb thought of how Hank had trailed the Finch woman through the party. If he hadn’t known Hank Thompson to be among the best men that Mr. Pinkerton ever handed a badge, he would have sworn his fellow agent was nothing but a lovesick schoolboy.

Rubbing his palm against his freshly shaven chin, Jeb contemplated how to proceed. Hiding in plain sight would only work if the woman and Doc had no idea he was a Pinkerton. He’d stared into Doc’s eyes and not been recognized, but any time that passed might change this.

It wasn’t too late to find a disguise, though the idea of spending the next few weeks—or more—pretending to be someone else sounded like a lot of trouble.

Another look at Anna Finch told him he was in for trouble either way.

“Worried about something?” Daniel asked.

Jeb shrugged. “Just figuring.”

“Figuring?” Daniel laughed. “Is that what they call it now? Looked to me like you were figuring how to get Hank and Edwin out of the picture so you could move in.”

“I’m going to ignore that.” The crowd swirled thick around them. No place to converse without being heard. “How do you think that gal will take to knowing her pa’s plan?”

“Anna?” Daniel paused to acknowledge a guest, then returned his attention to Jeb. “I don’t know. Why?”

“Just figuring.”

“So you said.” Daniel turned and looked him square in the eye. “Anna’s practically family, Jeb. Anything I need to know?”

If she was family, maybe Daniel knew more than he was saying. “Can I speak with you privately?” Jeb asked, eying the surrounding crowd.

“Now?”

“Now.”

The entrance to Daniel’s library was well hidden behind the palms and columns brought in to turn the ballroom into a Roman ruin. With the door shut, the sounds of people and chamber music disappeared.

The room smelled of cigars and leather, and the spot Jeb chose in the cowhide chair by the narrow window was as familiar to him as the kitchen table. Daniel joined him and reached for the humidor. Jeb waved away the offer.

“All right, Jeb,” Daniel said. “What’s wrong? And don’t give me the cleaned-up version. You know I’m trustworthy.”

“Yeah, I reckon you are.” He spent a moment deciding what to say. “Doc Holliday’s back in town. Saw him at the Windsor.” He paused. “With Wyatt Earp.”

“That’s interesting but hardly news,” Daniel said. “Not anymore, anyway.”

Jeb considered how much to tell him, then decided to keep it simple. “They were with Anna Finch. And there was money exchanged.”

“I see.”

“That’s it?” Jeb stood. “No reaction to the fact that this woman you supposedly know so well is cavorting with two known outlaws?”

“Did it appear she was having a social visit?”

He had to think a minute. “She did a lot of writing, which was odd. And talking. Earp, he talked more than Holliday. His wife didn’t say much.”

“Interesting.” Daniel leaned back in his chair. “So it’s possible Anna was taking notes. Possibly doing research. Both of those gentlemen have inspired more than one book.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Daniel slowly stood so that he matched Jeb in height. “I’m going to tell you something I probably shouldn’t.” He shrugged. “Maybe you already know.”

“I only know what Hank’s told me, and that’s precious little. Her pa wants her married off. Thinks she’s a danger to herself. Well,” Jeb said as he let out a long breath, “I say Barnaby Finch is right. I just want to know if he realizes who she’s been spending time with.”

“She’s a good girl, Jeb, but there’s a lot Barnaby doesn’t know. At least, I assume he’s not informed on her literary career.”

“Literary career?”

Daniel shrugged. “Our Anna has a history of penning dime novels.”

“C’mon, Daniel. I’ve no patience for jokes.”

“It’s no joke, I assure you. I found out accidentally when I arranged a meeting with the publisher with the intention of luring Mae Winslow’s creator back for one last book as a gift to my wife.”

“Yes, I recall that series was a favorite of hers.”

Daniel smiled. “The publisher was astonished that I didn’t just walk over and knock on the author’s door.” The clock chimed the half hour, and Daniel moved to the desk. He reached for his pen and dipped it into the ink. “Sorry, but I can’t linger. Just let me tell you two things about Anna Finch. First, there is absolutely no reason for her to need anyone’s money. None. What she hasn’t earned herself from her novels, Barnaby has provided. She’s very well set.” The expression on the Englishman’s face left no doubt at his sincerity.

“All right.”

“And second, Anna Finch was like a mother to Charlotte during those years when there was no one else to love my daughter except me. If I’d allowed it, she might have become my wife. And until Gennie came along, I was near to considering it for Charlotte’s sake.”

As much as Jeb knew of the friendship between Finch and Beck, he hadn’t anticipated that. Evidently his surprise showed, for Daniel began to laugh.

“Were you to repeat that, I’d deny it.”

“Understood.”

“What I’m saying is a man doesn’t let anyone around his child unless he’s done his due diligence in finding out exactly who that person is. Agreed?” When Jeb expressed his agreement, Daniel continued. “Whatever you saw is not what you saw.”

“Then what was it?”

Daniel set the pen aside and rose. “You’re the Pinkerton. Figure it out.”

“Oh, I plan to.”

Daniel moved toward the door. “Enjoy yourself tonight, Jeb. And do keep me informed.”

The door opened, and Daniel slipped out as the noise from the party tumbled in. Jeb started to follow, but his legs felt tired and heavy. What he wouldn’t give to be on horseback heading for home right now.

But not until he’d finished the job and healed a bit. The jostling that came from a spirited horse on a mountain trail wouldn’t do any good for his bandaged side. And leaving town with the murderer Doc Holliday so close to being captured wouldn’t set well. Not after all these years.

Jeb paused at the door to give his reflection a glance. Considering what he’d looked like only a couple of hours ago, no one would recognize him as the man who made a fool of himself in the Windsor lobby. Only his mama would know him covered in trail dust and beard hair, and then only if she wore her spectacles.

Jeb grinned. He just had to see to his duties tonight unnoticed, and tomorrow he’d figure out how to proceed.

“Easily done,” he said as he passed through the door. “As Miss Charlotte says, ‘It’s a daisy.’ ”

Anna stumbled slightly as Edwin spun her back into his arms. “I fear I lost you for a moment, Miss Finch.”

She looked quickly over her shoulder, trying to find the man
with the scar, but he’d slipped away into the crowd. She focused on her dance partner. “I’m terribly sorry.”

They resumed their dance, but the damage was done. Her hands shook, and everywhere she looked, she saw someone who might be him.

Anna allowed Edwin to sweep her into the center of the dance floor, where they moved easily among the others.

She spied the man again and stiffened.

“Miss Finch?”

He stood near the stairs, his face partly obscured, but from Anna’s vantage point, he looked very much like the mountain man. She had to know for certain.

“Forgive me.” Anna stepped away, breaking his hold on her waist. Without looking back at him, she hurried to follow the stranger.

This time Anna refused to allow the man out of her sight. Whether he knew she gave chase or not, he seemed intent on not being caught. She lost him in the reception area, then spied him slipping into the hall near the kitchen.

“Miss Finch,” Hank Thompson called. “Miss Finch.”

She sighed and pretended not to hear him as she kept her attention focused on the man. From her knowledge of the Beck home, the only exit from that hallway was through the kitchen. Thus, if the stranger were fleeing, he was already gone. If he’d merely become lost, he would quickly return.

Anna contemplated whether to wait or pursue. Then Hank stepped into her path, and she had to stop short to keep from slamming into him.

“Please, if you would,” he said. “I’d appreciate a moment of your time.”

“Really, I’m …” She looked anxiously down the hall. “Excuse me, Mr. Thompson, but I’m on my way to powder my nose.”

Mr. Thompson blushed, mumbled an apology, and stepped out of her way. Anna hurried down the hallway and prayed Mr. Thompson would not follow.

The kitchen door opened just as she reached it, and a waiter nearly ran her over. On his heels was the stranger.

“You there,” Anna said, regaining her balance, as the dark-haired stranger avoided her stare. “Stop. I know you.”

“So sorry, miss. May I help you?” The apologetic waiter halted, blocking Anna’s path and allowing the stranger to escape.

Obviously he did not want to be found, which made Anna even more curious.

By the time she trailed the man back up the stairs and into the ballroom, she’d nearly decided he wasn’t the mountain man from the river at all. Then he slipped into Daniel’s library.

Anna paused only a moment before reaching for the doorknob. As the door swung open, a slice of light traced a path across the carpet and a pair of decidedly male boots, which quickly moved into the shadows.

In a move she would either regret or celebrate tomorrow, Anna stepped inside and allowed the door to close behind her, plunging the room into darkness. The sounds of the celebration outside were muffled, her intake of breath oddly loud.