January 6

11:30 a.m.

Hovering behind the barbershop, Rosemary watched as, right on time, both Lee's right hand men, Hickam and Jesse, exited the Lee Coulter Enterprises office. One of them mumbled what must have been a joke for they laughed together as they strolled off to Abigail's cafe for lunch. She let out the breath she had been holding for minutes on end and checked the street once again to be sure it was free of any observers. It was a slow morning in town, yet being caught by even one person would throw her whole plan out of whack. Oh sure, she could give an excuse as to why she'd stopped by the office, after all it was her husband's office, but she'd rather not set any tongues wagging. Especially after the promise she had made to Lee to stop meddling into his surprise for her. She shook her head. She didn't understand that man. Didn't he realize her extreme hatred of surprises? What on earth was his surprise and why on earth all the secrecy? It was driving her completely batty.

She continued to watch Hickam and Jesse walk down Main Street until they were a safe distance away. Picking up the edge of her cream French lace skirt with one hand, and holding her small gold beaded clutch purse with the other, she quickly crossed the street and took a look both ways before pausing to unlock the door and slip into the office. She locked the door behind her and pulled the roller shades down over the two windows facing Main Street. She turned to survey the office. Everything seemed to be in order.

Lee's large map graced the wall above the fireplace. She made her way over to it, and traced her finger over the small town of Hope Valley and continued to trace north, the way the mystery man from the mercantile had been heading out earlier today. She gasped. Sure enough, partway towards the sawmill, a small pin was stuck into the map. What on earth could that mean? Was that something in regards to the sawmill, or something in regards to her surprise? She tapped the map twice, and then placed her small gold beaded clutch purse on the edge of the mantle so she could dig out her small reporter's notepad and pencil to make a quick replica of the map. It wasn't likely she'd be able to catch a ride out north and most definitely not in her condition, but still, a good detective never let a good clue go to waste.

After she had drawn a quick sketch of the map, she turned to the remainder of the office, her eyes sweeping over it for any obvious clues. Everything seemed to be in order. In fact, it was far too much in order. She frowned and with her notepad in hand, made her way over to Lee's oversized dark mahogany desk, noting the absence of paperwork. Fiddle sticks! Of all the times, her honey bunny actually had his desk cleared. She was forever drilling into him the importance of keeping a tidy desk, and here, the one time she wished it were not so, he had cleared the entire blasted thing. There was not one paper in sight. Well, no matter. She'd just have to dig around. She tried his middle drawer. Locked. Not to fear, a good spy always anticipated running into at least one deterrent. Rosemary reached up into her hair and pulled out a bobby pin. No lock had stopped her to date and she sure wasn't going to let it stop her today. She carefully maneuvered the pin until the lock released. Success!

Slowly and carefully she slid the drawer out, revealing Lee's big leather bound book that held all of the mill's finances. He wouldn't keep a record of a personal surprise in with his business accounts, would he? She opened the page and scanned the latest entries: deposits from the new merge, payment to employees, wait, what was that? A double payment to both Hickam and Jesse? Whatever could that be about? It was definitely too much for a raise. Perhaps they were in on helping him with his project? But twice the salary? Hmm…She continued to read through the list of deposits and checks. A reoccurring payment to "Kirill" every three weeks? What was that—a business? It was an unusual name.

She put the book down and continued to sift through a few documents in the middle drawer. There was just a folder full of receipts for open lumber orders, and a stack of business cards. She leafed through them: a few major sawmill companies in other cities, a few acquaintance cards from people he must have met in the business and a card for indoor plumbing installation. What on earth? Lee wasn't planning on putting on indoor plumbing out at the mill, was he? What a ridiculous thought.

Rosemary carefully placed all the items back in the middle drawer, closed it, and used her trick to relock it. A good spy mustn't leave any trace of his or her presence. Well, so far she had scraps of clues, but she needed some real evidence. She'd try the right hand drawer. She'd seen what Lee kept in the left hand drawer before and wasn't going to bother with opening it- usually just extra pencils, forms, and his cash box with the combination code. Wait, the cash box— Could he have a separate envelope in there for projects? Or would there be any other clues? Money always had a way of talking.

She was placing the bobby pin in the lock of the left hand drawer when she heard a rattling near the back window. Her heart jumped to her throat and she found herself frozen on the spot. The men should just be sitting down to enjoy a hearty meal, it was not near enough time for them to be returning already. And, who would return by window? Unless he was… trying to sneak in like her!

Rosemary almost flew into panic. What to do? Stand up and defend her husband's office and her right to be there? Or hide and hope for a clue? The windowpane rattled, and all she had time to do was grab her notepad, fall to her knees, and inch towards Lee's office closet. She scurried inside and held the doorknob, not quite pulling the door shut. A good spy ought to have a good vantage point, even if it was quite dangerous. She peered through the sliver of the door and held as still as humanly possible, although she was sure whoever was entering would be able to hear the intense pounding of her heart.

A thud sounded, as the man must have dropped down out of the windowsill. She heard his large boots lumbering towards the desk and then she watched through the slight crack as he tried opening a drawer, his back to her. Good thing she had taken the time to relock the drawer after she had picked it, or else would knows what this hoodlum would be walking off with. After he tried other drawers to no avail, he cursed with a thick accent. Why that was a familiar accent. The Russian! She gasped so loudly she could have sworn he heard it. Did he truly work for Lee or was he just here to steal from her husband on the day he was away? Oh, if only she had her colt .45 pistol. She would be like one of those new Pinkerton detectives. She would slowly open the closet door, cock the gun, and point the barrel directly at the ruffian, daring him to challenge her. Okay, so it had been awhile since she shot her pistol, but mark her words, she would not hesitate to use it if given the chance. Yes, she would defend Lee's business: no man would be permitted to steal from her husband. If only she had her pistol stashed away in her small clutch purse. Wait— her clutch purse? Where was it? She lifted up both arms, searching herself. Her stomach dropped to the floor when she realized where she had left it: on the office's fireplace mantle. She had made an amateur mistake. A good spy knew not to leave a trace of his or her presence and here she had left her clutch in the middle of the scene to be openly observed. Oh she could only pray that the man wouldn't spot it.

She watched as he continued to scuffle around the desk. He was murmuring to himself. She was just trying to make sense of his mutterings when the front door opened, and a laughing Jesse and Hickam entered. She felt immediate relief at their entrance. They would catch this crook and put things right. But until that happened, she would stay put.

"Hey! Who goes there?" Jesse's voice was gruff as he called out, and he put his hand to his side trying to draw a gun that wasn't there, obviously a habit from his outlaw days. Then his face softened. "Oh, Kirill! What are you doing sneaking around? We told you we'd be heading up north this afternoon. Is there something you need?" His voice had immediately changed to friendly tone.

What? Jesse and Hickam knew this hoodlum? And his name was Kirill?

"Da, tub arrived…time for pay." His deep accented voice said.

"Well, we are just heading up north. We'll deal with that." She watched as Jesse clapped him on the back, then walked towards the back of the office and shut the window. "What did we tell you? Your key is for the back door. There's no need to go sneaking through windows like a crook."

"Da, okay."

"Alright, well, Hickam and I will be right behind you. Do tell the deliveryman we will bring the check shortly."

"Da." And with that, the Kirill fellow excited out the back door.

Well this was a turn of events she was not anticipating. It looked as if now she would be stuck hiding in this closet until everyone departed, if she was not discovered before then. At least her small clutch purse was mostly out of view, even though she could see it clearly from the angle she stood at. Her only consolation was that Jesse had mentioned they would be heading out shortly. Hopefully they would get a move on. She didn't know how much longer she could wait in this closet. Especially after all the tea she had drank at Abigail's cafe this morning.

"Strange fellow, that Kirill. No matter how many times we tell him, he still takes to sneaking through the window. Almost as if he had something to hide." Hickam stood infront of Lee's desk and she shrank back into the shadows for fear he'd see her.

"I think it's the fact Mr. Coulter was so serious with him about keeping this whole project top secret. I think he took the whole matter too seriously, and has taken to sneaking about to avoid giving away any clues. All I can say is 'good riddance' to those trying to keep a secret from the notorious Rosemary Coulter." Jesse chuckled as he unlocked the drawer and must have been locating a check.

She knew she ought to be offended, but all she could feel was pride. Even Jesse recognized a secret could not be kept from her because of her great talent at solving a secret, why couldn't her own husband have the same realization? The sooner he spilled the beans to her the better.

"Well, regardless, I wouldn't be surprised if she has already found a way to unearth a few clues." Hickam looked around the room and for some odd reason it felt he was speaking right to her. She resisted the urge to cower back in fear. She had an excellent hiding spot and if these two would just skedaddle, she would be in the free and clear, no one the wiser.

Finally, she watched as Jesse slid the desk drawer open and shuffling through the drawer.

"I'm not sure. Mr. Coulter has been working over time to keep this all a secret." He said as he unlocked the cash box and more than likely secured the check for the plumber they were about to deliver.

"Ya, well, good luck to him." Hickam moved towards the door and began to pull on his heavier coat for their ride out.

Jesse joined Hickam at the door and pulled his own coat on. Both men walked out the door and shut the door behind them. She heard the key enter the lock from the front. A moment later, she heard a pair of mares whinny and ride away. Good, they were finally out of her hair. She'd snoop around a bit more before heading home. She released the pent up breath she had been holding onto and emerged from the closet. Her heeled brown velvet button boots click-clacked on the floor as she walked with determined steps towards the desk. She lifted the bobby pin from her hair once again. She'd unlock the drawer and sift through the cash box, then move on to the file cabinet near the door. She just knew there was a mountain of clues here, somewhere. With perseverance she would find them. And she had the whole afternoon to herself. Nothing or no one to get in the way of her investigating. She inhaled at a sudden heaviness in her midsection— well, there was almost no one to intrude upon her investigation— she'd forgotten about the little one in her womb who right now was insisting on pushing her full bladder. Oh, she'd return to her research- right after her urgent trip to the outhouse. Obviously good spies were not often pregnant ones.