An Agent For Magdala Read online

  Cloud woke spooned to Maggie and the two of them fit perfectly. His arm was across her waist. Her modest nightgown couldn’t hide her beauty. He recalled Jake’s comment about seeing her hair spread across a pillow. Jake’s imagination couldn’t compete with the real thing.

  No, no, he couldn’t let himself think like that. This was just an assignment like any other. He preferred working alone, but he’d worked with partners before now. Not a female, of course, but other Pinkerton agents. He needed to focus on the case.

  Cloud tried not to disturb Maggie as he left their bed, but servants ruined his plan. Geneva and Alec arrived to get Maggie and him ready for their day. Geneva opened the curtains and sunlight filled the room.

  He’d learned that Maggie was cheerful when she first woke. He envied her because he needed an hour or two before he could appreciate people. There he went again. Concentrate on the case instead of thinking about her habits and moods.

  Instead of the voluminous coat she’d had with her on the trip, today she wore a fur jacket. He had to admit that in a green dress that looked very expensive and wearing a fur, no one would doubt she was a princess. Her jewelry was less spectacular than she’d worn last night, but still eye-catching.

  After breakfast, Cloud pulled out his pocket watch. “Perfect timing. Shall we meet the McMillans?”

  He held her chair while she stood then she put her hand on his arm. Man, she was good at looking regal. If he didn’t know differently, he’d believe she really was a princess.

  But, apparently people thought he was a duke. Even though the admission cost his pride, he had to confess he and Maggie made a good pair. They looked and acted—at least in public—their parts of a happily married royal couple who had plenty of money and time to spend it.

  Louis waited near reception beside a couple who appeared to be in their late twenties or early thirties. “Ah, nice to see you. Princess Magdala of Bayergrovenia and Duke of Montpelier, meet Mr. and Mrs. George McMillan.”

  They exchanged greetings.

  Mrs. McMillan addressed Maggie, “Please call me Ava, Your Highness.”

  Mr. McMillan extended his hand to Cloud. “And, I’m George, Your Grace. We didn’t get to meet you last evening. My wife was so exhausted when we arrived, we stayed in and had room service deliver dinner before calling it an early night.”

  Cloud nodded. “I can definitely understand that. We were quite tired, too. Dinner was superb and the service excellent.”

  Louis inclined his head with a smile. “Thank you, Your Grace. We do pride ourselves on delicious food and good service.”

  He gestured toward the entrance. “Finnegan has the carriage waiting at the front steps. He’ll point out significant sites on your drive. Enjoy your tour.”

  Cloud nodded. “Her Highness and I look forward to learning more about your city, Louis.”

  Louis stood beaming as if they were his children and had behaved properly. In a way they were at least his charges.

  At the carriage, an oddly dressed man let down the step. “Ladies facing front and gents facing the ladies.” He wore a top hat, a green plaid coat, burgundy print shirt, and striped brown pants. He could have been mistaken for a circus employee if not for the carriage.

  Once they were seated, Finnegan closed the vehicle’s door. He tugged on his lapels. “The river you’ll see is the San Antonio River and this is the headwaters.”

  He climbed onto the driver’s seat and snapped the reins. “There you can see the Alamo Chapel, the first of San Antonio’s five missions, this one built in 1718. I’ll warn you that if you come out here after dark you’ll need to carry a lantern. Easy to fall into that mud hole there.”

  He stopped the horse and gestured to the ruins. “For thirteen days in 1836 less than two hundred Texians held off several thousand Mexican soldiers led by General Santa Anna. After the defeat, the battle cry of ‘Remember the Alamo’ was yelled with every battle, including during the Mexico-American War of 1846.”

  Cloud had heard of the Alamo and was disappointed by the crumbling walls. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t a ruin. A dingy dog raised a leg to relieve himself on the building’s side.

  Cloud said, “Even though the structure isn’t astounding, the dog’s action seems disrespectful.”

  Maggie smiled at him. “He is one of God’s creatures, too.”

  Finnegan pointed with his whip. “Might not look like much now but it was a big place back then. Took up a lot of what’s now downtown. Except for the chapel, the Army uses what’s left for storage.” He snapped the reins and set the horse in motion.

  As they rode, Finnegan pointed out homes of those he considered famous people. He turned off to drive by a small chapel. This here’s Concepión Mission, built in 1755. I’m told it’s the oldest un-restored stone church in the United States. Don’t know who has time to figure out things like that.”

  Cloud turned to George. “What business are you in, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  George pulled out a business card. “I’m here buying up old Spanish land grants as a speculative venture. Does that interest you?”

  Cloud pretended to consider. “Not at this time, but I’ll save your card.”

  Maggie leaned forward. “If you’re truly seeking investors, I know someone who might be interested.”

  George handed a card to her. “Certainly.”

  “Frank Harper is the man who handles American investments for the Bayergrovenian royal family. So far he’s participated in railroads, silver and gold mines, shipping, and the telegraph. He’s searching for additional western resources.”

  She took a small tablet and a pencil from her purse. After she’d written on a page she tore it out and handed it to George. “Here’s his name and address. If you think you might be interested, I’ll contact him and let him know he’ll hear from you.”

  George offered a beaming smile as he slid the information into his jacket pocket. “Thank you, Your Highness. I’ll send off a wire this evening. If the royal family trusts him, that’s a good recommendation.”

  Cloud watched the exchange with interest. So, this was why Maggie was in America. Her father was handling investments. That didn’t explain why she wanted to become a Pinkerton agent. Still, he was glad to have another piece of the Maggie puzzle.

  The couples chatted as the ride continued. When they carriage turned left, Cloud turned on his seat and saw another chapel ahead. Finnegan bypassed the front and drove to the side where he stopped the carriage under an elaborate window.

  “We’re at the San Jose Mission, known as the Queen of the Missions. Place once housed three hundred Indians who farmed.”

  He gestured to an ornately carved window. “This here is the famous Rose Window. Story I was told was that a fellow from Spain named Pedro Huizar carved it to honor his love, Rosa. She was on her way to join him when the ship went down and she drowned. This is his memorial to her.”

  Ava held a hand at her throat. “That is sad but romantic. George, would you do something like that if you lost me?”

  Her husband leaned forward to pat her knee. “Without you, my love, I’d be too desolate to even remember my name.” He leaned back against the seat.

  Ava smiled at him. “What a sweet thing to say.”

  Cloud nudged him. “Clever answer. That question could have landed you in quicksand.”

  George chuckled. “We’ve been married eight years. First few years I sank up to my neck several times. Hopefully, I can avoid the bogs now.”

  After a stop at San Juan Mission and Espada Mission and aquaduct, Finnegan declared, “That’s the five missions and our large estates. Now we’ll go where there’s shopping and food.”

  Soon they arrived at a large market area. Vendors lined both sides of the street. People wandered back and forth, seemingly heedless of vehicles and animals.

  Some of the people selling goods had set up tables with awnings overhead. Others used a wagon bed as their booth. Many had
only a table. The variety of vendors and merchandise offered was amazing—from vegetables to furniture. He’d thought there were a lot of people selling wares in Santa Fe, but there were many more here spread over a much larger space.

  Finnegan parked at one side and let down the step. “I’ll wait if you folks want to wander through the market. This end has the best buys. Hold on to your pocketbooks. San Antonio is a real nice place but there’re always a few varmints in a crowd.”

  The men debarked and helped the women alight. Smoke from grills and braziers drifted toward them. Voices surrounded them from children playing, merchants hawking wares, and people calling to friends.

  Ava scanned the array of booths. “I’m hungry. Do you think it’s safe to eat here?”

  Maggie sniffed. “Mmm, I smell something delicious. I intend to find out what it is.”

  Cloud groaned to pretend he was upset. “Oh, no, we’re in for a tour of the food vendors. Her Highness has learned she loves Mexican food.”

  Ava wore a skeptical expression. “Then I suppose if Your Highness is willing, I’ll try some of the food here, too.”

  Cloud didn’t like the attention their arrival had created. He was foolish to have let Maggie wear her fur and jewelry. He whispered, “Stick close. We’re garnering a lot of spectators.”

  Maggie looked at him and smiled, her green eyes twinkling. “I intend to—if you can keep up with me.”

  Cloud escorted Maggie wherever she wanted to go. He was too busy keeping guard to look at the merchandise offered. They ambled by several food sellers before Maggie decided which one to patronize.

  “Let’s try the one with the red and white striped awning. That had empanadas and tamales and a little counter we can use while we eat our food.”

  Cloud caught George and Ava’s attention. “My treat. Get whatever you want to eat.”

  George darted to another vendor and secured four beers. “You’ll need this to wash down that spicy food.”

  Maggie nudged Cloud. “Don’t look up right now. When you can, casually look ahead and to the left beside that green awning. Johan and Dominic are arguing with someone. The other man’s in the shade but he resembles someone familiar.”

  As if he were merely scanning their surroundings, Cloud spotted the brothers in a heated discussion. “Looks like the Kennedy fellow from last night.”

  George leaned across. “State secrets or can anyone listen?”

  Cloud kicked himself for not being more clandestine. “My wife noticed the Rambler brothers from the hotel in a heated argument. Seems an odd place to air one’s differences.”

  “Neither of them looks familiar to me but you’re aware we only just arrived.”

  “The third fellow is also a guest at the hotel, a man named Kennedy. Didn’t like him. Can you believe the fellow asked me how much Princess Magdala’s jewels were worth?”

  George’s mouth gaped open. “What a nerve and so rude. I hope you asked him how much his tie pin or cufflinks were worth.”

  Cloud laughed. “Wish I’d thought of it. Wouldn’t that have made his eyes bulge out?”

  Ava’s bottom lip rolled out in a pout. “I never get to hear anything.”

  Maggie pulled Ava to stand between her and George. “Now you can hear everything.”

  Ava grinned and scooted her food in front of her. “Thank you. The men are supposed to be protecting us anyway.”

  Each of them munched on the food.

  Ava widened her eyes. “This is really good. I’m so glad we tried them.”

  Maggie picked up her second empanada. “I’m addicted. I’m sure there are other dishes I’d enjoy. I’ll have to experiment later.”

  Someone bumped into George and he turned in a flash and grabbed the man’s arm. “Don’t think you can get away with that.”

  The culprit dropped a wallet—obviously belonging to George. “Ow, you’re hurtin’ me arm.”

  A second man behind George crept toward him as if ready to rescue the pickpocket.

  Cloud grabbed the man and twisted his arm behind his back as George had done with the first culprit. “You two must work together. I’m sure the sheriff will be happy to welcome both of you to his fine hotel.”

  The man twisted in Cloud’s grasp. “Now there’s no call to be involvin’ the sheriff. We can work somethin’ out. We can make it worth your while to forget this incident, mate.”

  Cloud shook his head. “I’m not your mate and my friend and I have long memories.”

  Finnegan must have been monitoring their progress because he rushed up. “Scalawags. I’ll summon the law.”

  Soon their driver returned with two stern-looking men who wore badges.

  The sheriff took out his handcuffs. “If it isn’t Slippery Crowley and Hook Nose Vail. I ran you two out of town last month. Yet, here you are, stupid enough to return.”

  The first crook complained, “We wasn’t doing nothin’ wrong. We was just getting somethin’ to eat. No law against that.”

  Cloud stabbed a forefinger at the cheat. “There is when you steal someone’s wallet to pay for your food.”

  The sheriff, who introduced himself as Jim Evans, took their names. His eyes widened when Cloud gave his fake name. He hated to lie to another lawman, but had to or lose his elaborate cover.

  Sheriff Evans looked from George to Cloud. “Thank you for your help. Sure hate these two interrupted your lunch. I won’t need you to testify since these two have a long record for this sort of thing. If necessary, I’ll call on Finnegan.”

  The sheriff and his deputy hustled the two miscreants toward the jail.

  George took out his handkerchief and mopped his brow. “Thanks for your help, Your Grace. I hadn’t noticed that second man.”

  “He was behind you where you couldn’t have seen him.” Cloud turned to Finnegan. “Good thing you warned us and that you were watching.”

  Finnegan puffed out his chest. “I know my duty. Mr. Menger told me to take good care of you folks and I intend to long as you’re in my care. You folks go on with your sightseeing unless you’re ready to go back to the hotel.”

  Cloud met Maggie’s gaze in question.

  She turned to Ava. “You want to shop a little more?”

  Ava nodded. “Yes, I want to get this incident out of my mind.”

  Maggie smiled at her. “That’s a good idea. I’d like something as a souvenir, something useful and not just something to take up room.”

  The two couples finished their food and strolled among the vendors.

  Chapter Eight

  Maggie sent a telegram to her father about George McMillan’s investment opportunity. Until then she hadn’t considered that George might mention her husband. Papá would not react well to that piece of news and Mamá would be furious. Yet, she couldn’t ask George not to mention her husband without ruining their masquerade.

  Back in their suite, Geneva and Alec were waiting. Maggie wondered how the two occupied their time when she and Cloud were not present. Geneva must spend a lot of time pressing wrinkles from Maggie’s gowns.

  “I see you have my blue dress pressed for this evening. Thank you.”

  Geneva curtsied. “It’s a beautiful dress, Your Highness.”

  Cloud cleared his throat. “Her Highness and I wish to rest in our room until time to dress for dinner. You two may as well take the afternoon off.”

  He watched until the two exited to the rooms. Quietly, he said, “We need to work on those registers but no one else needs to know about it.”

  Maggie held up a black shawl she’d purchased at the market. “I love this. I’ll put it away while you get the registers.”

  Cloud stacked the two books on the small desk near the windows. He scooted a second chair so they would both have access to the registers. Then, he checked the sheet of paper. “The first theft was three months ago. That would be in this guest volume.”

  Maggie sat and leaned toward him to read the list. “I’ll look for the date of the second robb
ery.” She took the other ledger.

  Cloud picked up a pencil. “Found it. Have you located your date?”

  Maggie held her hand on the open book. “I have. I’ll read you names and you see if they’re the same as in your list. I think I should start with the day before, don’t you?”

  He grimaced. “At least. I wish we had a way of knowing how long each person stayed. They would have to be a guest at the time of the robbery to be able to sneak from room to room.”

  She read each name and he searched for it in his register. When they’d completed their first list, three names appeared on both dates.

  Maggie turned pages to get to the third date. “This is how I thought we’d work—as a team.”

  Cloud shifted on the chair. “Who’s the first person?”

  With a sigh, she read the next date’s names.”

  There was no doubt he still resented her being assigned as his partner. He would have to deal with the way things were. Certainly she intended to work as a Pinkerton detective. At least he’d stopped acting like a spoiled child.

  When they’d finished, they had added only one more name to the three they’d first discovered.

  She stretched her arms over her head, a most unladylike gesture that would have cost her a long lecture if her parents had seen the action. “Do you have an opinion?”

  “Seems pretty clear to me. I’d say the Rambler brothers are involved somehow. Don’t know why they didn’t lose anything last time unless it was to deflect suspicion.”

  “That sounds likely. Both of them appeared genuinely devastated when we dined with them, but that could be a clever cover.”

  Cloud closed the register he held. “Without proof, we can’t say anything.”

  “I wonder if they’ve had the same thing happen other places the two have stayed?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Worth finding out. If I keep Johan talking, can you pump Dominic? He seems quite charmed by you so he might not be as careful with what he divulges.”

  She grinned. “He does appear the more… um, easily distracted, doesn’t he? I’ll see what I can learn.” She sobered and concern etched her gorgeous features.