Wilder Than the Rest: MacLarens of Fire Mountain (12 page)

Chapter Eleven

Lee penned a brief message and handed it to the hotel messenger. “Do not include my name, just the message.” He focused on the short, slim man to emphasize his request.

“Of course, sir.”

Lee watched the employee take the stairs at a brisk pace. Within minutes, Eva would know the other agent she’d requested had arrived, although later than anticipated. The note recommended that they meet at the Mayor’s Ball. Lee had no intention of letting her know who had been sent to act as her partner until it was too late. She was a consummate professional and wouldn’t think of making a scene during the highly anticipated social event. No, she’d save her wrath for him, and Noah, until later.

It was mid-afternoon and he had one more errand to run before returning to his room to dress for the ball. Noah had alerted him to a service with an office not far from the San Franciscan hotel that was run by a former government employee. The man and his two partners, who ran the New York and Chicago offices, specialized in providing businessmen and government officials with messenger services, whether over the wires or in person, on an anonymous basis.

The information Lee received from Clive Hawkins had been gnawing at him. He wasn’t sure why, no one would be more pleased than him if the person named in the message did turn out to be responsible for the strange activities surfacing on the West Coast. Clive’s assumptions about what had been uncovered made sense, yet Lee still felt something was amiss. Perhaps another of his contacts could add some clarity to the mystery.

He stepped through the doorway and strode up to a tall counter. He looked around, and finding no one, rang the bell conveniently placed to the right of the ink pad.

“Be right there,” a deep voice answered a few moments before a short, stout gentleman with a long, graying beard slipped sideways through a slim opening between the front and back offices. “What can I do for you?” He leaned forward and placed his arms on the counter.

“I’d like to send a message to a contact on the East Coast. A private message.”

“How did you hear about our service?”

“Noah Dodds.”

The man nodded. “Silas Springer,” he said and offered his hand.

“Lee Hatcher.”

“Noah, huh? That’s good. Something more interesting than my recent customers. I’m getting mighty tired of sending secret messages between two married lovers—married to others, that is.” He reached under the counter to grab a pad and fountain pen. “Write your message and contact here. I expect Noah told you it’s cash only?”

Lee nodded as he wrote. When finished, he passed the pad back to Silas and reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. He looked up in time to see the man’s eyes widen when he saw the name of the recipient.

“You know him?” Lee asked.

“Used to.” Silas’s eyes narrowed on Lee. “Not many know of him outside certain circles. I’d thought he’d retired until someone else sent a message to him a couple of weeks ago.”

“From here?” Lee was stunned at the news.

“Yep. Strange message too. No response was received, so it could be that the person sending the message was just fishing. That happens sometimes.”

“Can you tell me who sent the message?”

“I’d be glad to, if I knew. Unfortunately, the man didn’t leave his name. Told me he’d be back to pick up any reply. I never got a reply and never saw the man again. My guess? He was experimenting to see what would happen.” Silas counted the words and named a price for guaranteeing Lee’s contact would get the message. “Where do you want me to send a response, if one arrives?”

“I’m at the San Franciscan.” Lee closed the door behind him, perplexed and concerned about the identity of the man who’d sent the other message.

Fewer than ten people knew the man had been a government agent for years working for the Treasury and Justice departments. He knew information about people that could get them exiled, imprisoned, or killed. He accepted messages from perhaps five of his old colleagues, Lee being one. Lee knew the identity of the other four and wondered which one of them had been in San Francisco recently, and why.

******

Pierce continued to pace a hole in the library carpet, killing time until he and Mollie would leave for the ball. He’d been in the room for hours, first refining their plan for the evening, then berating himself for the poor way he’d handled the situation with Mollie the night before.

It had turned into the best night he’d had in a long time, and he knew Mollie had felt the same. He’d wanted to kiss her, planned it most of the night, but at the last minute, he couldn’t. Not because he didn’t want to. Hell, he’d wanted to do a lot more than kiss her—and that was the problem. He knew if they started down that path, it wouldn’t take long before they’d be in her room with her laid out on the big canopied bed. The thought of it still sent heat through his body.

Pierce couldn’t remember ever craving the touch of woman the way he did hers. For all her stubbornness, Mollie was the most desirable woman he’d ever known. She was bright and fearless, jumping in when others stood aside, seeking answers when everyone else had given up. She excited and perplexed him at the same time.

Last night, he’d lain awake for hours, rethinking the way he’d left her. Or, rather the way she’d closed her bedroom door, leaving him standing in the hall. It had been a remarkable evening, until he’d made his little speech and she’d closed up. Perhaps it would’ve been best to do what he’d wanted for weeks—kiss her senseless, until they were both on fire, then take her to bed.

He walked to the window, looking out toward a beautiful view, his eyes unable to focus on any of it, and realized the line between right and wrong was fading fast when it came to Mollie. Pierce turned at the sound of three quick raps on the door.

“Mr. MacLaren? Miss Gagnon and Mr. Yarbrough are here to see you and Mrs. MacLaren,” Penelope said as she pushed the library door open a few inches.

“Please, show them in and ask Mollie to join us.”

He greeted the two, offering them drinks until Mollie arrived. Pierce handed Chaz a whiskey and Eva her sherry, then took a swallow of his drink as the door to the library swung open.

Pierce drew in a sharp breath, almost choking on his whiskey as his gaze locked on Mollie. She stood in the doorway wearing a magnificent, lemon yellow silk gown with small capped sleeves that fell off her shoulders. It dropped low on her chest, exposing just enough creamy skin to immediately heat his blood. The gown fit tight around the waist and down her hips before cascading into soft waves that fell to the floor while tucking into a glorious train in the back. The gown highlighted her golden blonde hair, which she’d pulled up into an intricate chignon, using a pearled clip to secure it in place.

Pierce continued to stare as he attempted to bring both his breathing and pounding heart under control. His hand gripped the whiskey glass so tight it threatened to shatter.

Mollie’s gaze landed on Pierce the moment she opened the door. She saw his eyes lock on her, the impact of his stare so great her legs threatened to buckle.

Eva sat back, watching Pierce’s reaction to his partner and Mollie’s response to his open perusal. She knew in an instant that it was just a matter of time before neither could deny their feelings and one, or both, would act on them.

“Good evening, Mollie. You look absolutely splendid.” Chaz walked up, taking Mollie’s hand, and gestured toward a chair next to Pierce. “We need to discuss some new developments before we leave for the Mayor’s Ball.”

“Hello, Mollie. That dress is quite becoming on you. Be prepared, you’ll be besieged with suitors before the night is over.” Eva smiled at the young woman then turned to Pierce. “Chaz discovered some interesting information through a local contact. Chaz, why don’t you fill them in?”

“First, some background. My contact is a gentleman I’ve known for many years, worked with in Europe briefly, and now makes his home in San Francisco. He was sent here near the end of his career as an agent to help with some difficult foreign relations transactions. Afterward, he retired and stayed. That said, he stays current about what goes on behind the closed circles of the city.” Chaz leaned against the large desk and folded his arms over his chest. “There is strong discontent with many of the policies put forward by President Cleveland within the circles my contact frequents—wealthy, well-connected individuals who have the means to make or break a career, and that includes a president. Many of the people he refers to have deep roots in the east and mid-west—New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Chicago, St. Louis, and some ties in the south—and they’re organizing their efforts. They’ve quietly been collecting funds. A war chest, if you will, to accomplish their goal of getting Cleveland out of the White House.”

“Do you believe that is what the large withdrawals that Lee and Noah reported are about?” Pierce asked.

“Seems reasonable.”

“Did he provide any names or say whether the mayor is part of the movement?” Eva didn’t believe for a moment either would be involved in something that would jeopardize the mayor’s career, regardless of their feelings toward the president.

“I pushed, but he wouldn’t provide names, and said if it got out he’d lose all contact with this group of men. He said it wouldn’t be hard to guess at those involved based on wealth and social standing.”

Mollie shifted in her chair, glancing around the room at the others. “If that’s the case, then there isn’t anything illegal happening. Nothing that would necessitate our involvement, correct?”

“Remember, it’s input from one contact. We must weigh it against everything we’ve learned and what Noah and Lee provide to us. It is, however, something we must consider.” Chaz dropped his arms to his sides and paced to his chair, standing behind it, resting his hands on the back. “We must continue until we’ve been told otherwise.”

“What do you advise we do tonight? I assume many of the men your contact refers to will be in attendance tonight. Anyone in particular to watch or get close to?” Pierce was impatient to learn whether their involvement was needed nor not.

Eva pulled two pieces of paper out of her reticule and handed one to Mollie, the other to Pierce. “These lists are identical so that you may work together or alone. Mollie will have the chance to get close to some of the men on the list, and Pierce, several of the women on yours will be willing to tell what they know. Keep in mind, many of the women receive little attention from their husbands. A little male flattery can go a long way.”

Pierce grinned at what Eva implied, while Mollie’s eyes jerked to his. From his reaction, she couldn’t help but believe the assignment agreed with him even more than his expression implied. The thought angered and fortified her at the same time.

“Is all of this quite clear?” Eva asked as she stooped to pick up her wrap.

Mollie squared her shoulders and walked toward the door. “Quite clear, Eva.” She glanced at the others. “If we’re set, I’m more than ready for a change of scenery.” She threw a murderous glare at Pierce as she left the room to board their waiting carriage.

******

Pierce sat across from Mollie in their carriage while Eva and Chaz followed behind. Neither said a word as their driver made his way to the ball in San Francisco’s downtown district.

Mollie had time to think while riding through the streets, and plan the best way to become acquainted with the men on the list. It wouldn’t be difficult—the affair was scheduled to go on well into the early morning, which meant many would be drinking for several hours.

“Are you ready for this?” Pierce asked as the carriage came to stop, surging forward a few more feet before the driver jumped down from his seat and opened their door.

Mollie cocked an eyebrow and offered a brilliant smile as she faced Pierce, who’d stepped down before her. “More than ready. Let’s find out what these people know.”

The ball was already crowded when they arrived. Mollie watched sophisticated women in stunning gowns and flashing jewels sashay from one group to the next, simultaneously speaking with friends while gauging the others in the room. It was a game to some, business to others, and deadly serious to the four agents who began to circulate through the room.

Eva and Chaz spoke briefly before splitting off, giving each the ability to move freely about the room. She expected to locate Owen Kendall at any time to begin their charade as wealthy lovers. Although she’d never been attracted to the handsome agent, she knew he’d been infatuated with her for years. At least, from his standpoint, it would be an easy performance.

She spotted Pierce and Mollie across the room in deep conversation with two couples she didn’t recognize. That’s when she noticed the mayor and his wife, standing in a grouping of people, laughing while sipping champagne. She’d met them the year before during a short assignment in the Bay City, and had been to their home a few weeks ago for a private supper party, where she’d met Theodore Crow, who stood in their circle speaking with the mayor’s wife, Lydia. They were an amicable couple, political to the core, yet deeply committed to making San Francisco the jewel of the West Coast.

She accepted a glass of champagne from a passing server and turned to maneuver her way across the room to greet the mayor, all the while searching for Owen. The event was intended to accommodate two hundred guests, yet Eva estimated there were closer to three hundred in the crowded space. It took several minutes, pausing to speak with a couple of individuals she’d met over the last few weeks, before she stopped next to the mayor who stood talking with two gentleman Eva had yet to meet.