Chapter 2 – Lil's

"Ready to go?" Arthur asked unnecessarily. Malone once again sat in front of him, and he could tell her mood had changed since yesterday. Always happy and outgoing, she seemed closed off, almost sullen.

"Of course," she sighed. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Arthur's voice softened. "Bret?"

Malone didn't answer at first. "He'd rather I didn't take this case."

Stansbury noticed how she'd phrased the remark. It had nothing to do with the place, and everything to do with the job. "Is he going with you?"

Her answer was quick – too quick. "No."

"And you have concerns about . . . ?"

Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "Is this just a saloon girl, Arthur, or is there more required that you're not telling me?"

"I wouldn't ask you to do something you didn't want to do, Captain. I've told you everything I know about the situation." It seemed all too simple on the surface. Young women were going to work primarily at Diamond Lil's, the biggest dance hall and saloon in Kansas City, and then simply . . . disappearing without a trace. It might have taken years to notice, but one missing girl's sister had gone to the marshal, and when he got nowhere she contacted Pinkerton. Another of Arthur's operatives discovered a disturbing pattern of disappearances before vanishing herself. That's when he'd called in Ginny. "If you don't want to go . . . I'll understand. Priorities change. Focus shifts. People come and go in our lives. What was important yesterday isn't as important today."

Ginny was staring at the floor while Arthur spoke. She looked up now and smiled. "My priorities haven't changed, boss. I'm still your best agent."

Stansbury returned her smile, a rarity for him. "Yes, you are."

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There was palpable tension in the room as Ginny prepared to leave. Bret was packed and had been pacing in circles for quite a while; he stopped now and watched her preparations. When he spoke, his voice was soft but filled with tension. "I'm headed south. Maybe home, maybe not. I'll decide as I go."

"If you need me . . . wire Arthur. He can contact me without arousing suspicion."

The gambler moved toward her but stopped when he got close, almost like he was afraid to touch her. Ginny closed the remaining distance and stood in front of him until he reached out and pulled her into his arms. Their kiss was wistful and gentle, full of longing and regret, and they broke apart reluctantly. "Good luck," he told her, and ran his fingers down her cheek.

"Bret . . . " she wanted to say more, but words failed her.

"I know. Me, too." Then he was gone, and she was alone in the room. They'd parted before, but she'd never felt this empty. Adjusting her shoulders, she picked up her bag and followed him out, into the hall and down the stairs to the train station. It was going to be a long trip without him.

XXXXXXXX

The distance was short from the train station to Diamond Lil's, and it was a good thing that Arthur had warned her about the size of the saloon. She'd been in some big ones before, but never one quite this enormous.

Ginny found the bar and the nearest bartender, a man of around forty, tall and muscular, who looked like he could take care of himself. "I'm lookin' for Red Mitchell. He around?"

"All the way in the back on the right. You the new girl?"

The agent smiled as if thrilled to be there. "That's me. Sammi Jo Withers. And you are?"

"Frank Carson, head bartender. Nice to have you here, Sammi Jo. Red'll be happy to see you."

Ginny laughed. "And I'll be happy to see him." She picked up her bag, sitting at her feet. "In back on the right, you said?"

"That's it. Welcome to Diamond Lil's, Sammi."

She took a good look at the place on her way to Red's office. Her first impression was correct, the saloon and gambling hall was enormous. There were two bars, the long one she'd stopped at and a second, smaller one towards the back. Faro tables and the roulette wheels were in front, with at least a dozen poker tables in back. Everything looked new and shiny, like it had all just been cleaned and polished.

Mitchell's office was easy to find – it had a sign on the closed door that read 'Manager – Private.' Ginny knocked and waited until she heard "Come in" before entering. The room was small and tastefully decorated; a desk in one corner with two chairs in front of it, a bookcase holding mostly ledgers, and a small table with glasses and two or three bottles of liquor.

It was easy to see where the man behind the desk got his name. Bright red hair and mustache, even redder than Ginny's, Mitchell was a man of medium size, both in height and weight. He wore black-rimmed glasses and an easy smile, and he stood up when he saw Ginny.

"Mr. Mitchell, I assume. I'm Sammi Jo Withers." Ginny offered her hand and they shook, then both sat down.

"Glad you could get here in such a hurry, Sammi Jo. We're definitely short-handed."

"I'm surprised, in a place that looks like this." Ginny paused before continuing. "I'm sure the money's good enough."

The smile on Red's face faded. "Hiring girls is easy. Keeping them is hard."

"Well, I'm glad for the job, Mr. Mitchell. I won't be leavin' anytime soon."

"Please, Sammi, call me Red." The smile had returned. "All of the girls live here; we have rooms upstairs for everyone. I assume that's alright by you? Good, then, let's show you yours and let you get settled. Then you can get started tonight."

Ginny nodded. "Sounds good, Red. And I'd like to meet everyone."