Chapter Forty-Five
Jarrod and Philip left the station near dawn and headed out for some breakfast. Neither of them were in a mood to sleep. They were unshaven and rumpled.
"Let's stop by the Pinkerton Office before I take you back to Nate's."
"I don't want to slip and show my foul mood to the family and I cannot even think of sleeping at this point."
Jarrod finished up his coffee and asked for the tab.
They discussed the case as they rode up to the nondescript red brick building in the business district. People were already coming and going.
Phil signed into the building and added Jarrod as his guest.
They took an elevator up several floors. Every time Jarrod visited he was amazed at the activity. Men and women in all sorts of disguises and uniforms filing reports. He knew there were two underground entrances used by the most secretive of agents. They searched for missing spouses, liens, thieves, industrial spies, strikebreakers, dirty politicians, and a thousand other scenarios. The private agency was contracted by all strata of society and had contract workers in every town imaginable.
Pinkerton National Detective Agency, "We Never Sleep" with a large unblinking eye painted under the motto.
"Morning, Phil." his manager greeted them.
"Jarrod Barkley, my guest, client and friend."
Jarrod laughed at the description. Phil was clearly exhausted.
His manager narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
"Phil? Can you come to my office for a moment? Business."
"Of course."
Jarrod made his way to the settee to wait.
—&—-
"Phil, you know Mr. Pinkerton always valued loyalty above all. We never allowed money to color our judgments or cases."
He frowned not sure where his manager was going,
"Phil, I have worked with you for ten years—-trust you with my life. And I know the Barkleys have been good clients of ours for years. Jarrod was military intelligence and has worked for us several times. Macklin thinks a lot of him."
"Yes?"
"I got this yesterday afternoon. Wanted to talk to you before I put it in the queue. They want someone to start today. I have someone but I wanted your background on this."
He handed him a case request for information, JD Autonberry, Denver in request of information about the Barkley family. Namely Jarrod Thomas Barkley and Nicholas Jonathan Barkley. Request for surveillance of the two said parties. Start today. Monitoring of the train station will be required. Looking for a young auburn-haired woman of 34. See description. Contact Branch Davis…
"Easy enough decision, sir. I have already been working for Jarrod on the Autonberry case. Custody of his grandson. Conflict of interest. Autonberry is shady. He is the number one suspect in an attempted kidnapping last night—of the young woman described in the form. I was at the police station all night,"
"I trust you, Philip. We will not take the case."
"Hold the request for a few days. Better yet after the holidays."
"Done."
Philip picked up the paper, "I will bring this back to you in a few minutes."
He nodded.
Phil came out to Jarrod and they walked into his office.
He slid the form across the table.
Jarrod read it and frowned.
"Denied. You still have Macklin's blessing with the boss. We are not accepting the case. But I bartered that we sit on it until after Thanksgiving. Until your family decides what to do."
"Thanks, friend—and I will thank Macklin when I see him again." he choked out with a chuckle.
—-&—
Nick woke up first with the sun streaming through the brocade drapes. He was stiff from not moving all night so as to not disturb Maris. He gently pulled his arm away and rolled her over. She made a soft noise but kept sleeping. He rubbed his thumb across the bruise on her face. It was ugly and purple. He shivered with rage. The memory of her listless body on the porch would stay with him for a lifetime.
He sat up and stretched; he walked to the wash basin and slapped his face. After going to her water closet, he put on his boots and headed down the long staircase at Nate's house.
"Coffee here I come,"
Elisabeth and the children were leaving the table as he entered. The five children tackled him and hugged him. He grinned and gave each child their own special attention to the delights of "Uncle Nick."
Their mother rounded them up, "OK children, let's let your Uncle Nick get his coffee. He has had a hard night,"
Alice got up and poured Nick a cup.
"Where's Jarrod?" as he took several gulps of the steaming hot brew.
"Children, head upstairs and make your beds for Miz Portia. Girls make sure Benjamin's is made too. And our clothes need to be put up."
"Yes ma'am," they said simultaneously.
Alice just smiled, "Elisabeth, you awe me. Your children don't mind their chores at all. I wish I had been as strict with my daughters. They still depend on servants for everything."
"They aren't always as agreeable as today but Jarrod is a stickler too. He was raised to do all the household and ranch chores too. Said it made him self-sufficient. Glad his parents did it. My mother was a Yankee so you know I can do my share," she smiled and shooed them up the stairs.
Alice laughed and thought of her friends with so much love, "If only we could get Nick some of the same domestic bliss."
"Jarrod isn't home yet," she answered Nick as the children were out of earshot.
Nick frowned, "Have they found James David yet?"
She shook her head no with anxiety.
"Nate?" as she poured his second cup of coffee.
"Asleep. Two sets of stitches on his hands. Broke the first set open in anger. Had to give him some laudanum."
"I can never thank him enough for saving her. No telling where they were taking her."
Alice continued, "We love her, Nick. Anyway, Jarrod called in his Pinkerton friend and they are working on the case."
"Phil is the best. Gets to the bottom of things and doesn't mind getting his hands dirty."
"Nick? This came about an hour ago addressed to Maris. From Milton."
She pushed it across the table to Nick.
He took the envelope and looked at the Western Union stamp.
"I think Maris would want you to open it since she is indisposed."
"Maybe it is about James David. She would want to know."
Peterson died of heart seizure at ranch last night. Your son did not arrive as expected. Be careful. LOVE, B
He passed the telegram to the awaiting Alice.
"Well, well, well, Wonder why he was at Milton? And James David isn't there? The old goat pushed up daisies before he could hurt Maris again." Alice said sarcastically.
"But where is the boy? On the way to Denver?"
"I hope Jarrod got more answers than we have."
"Me too and before I have to tell Maris that her boy is missing. He's got a good head on him. Surely—-and I don't believe JD would hurt him at all."
—-&—
Brynnie watched as the hands and maid prepared Peterson's body. She was filled with relief instead of grief at the man who hurt her Maris so much.
A telegraph machine went off and she quickly yelled "I got it."
It was a business telegram and she put it in the stack.
No one really noticed her much. They had only told her to send the telegrams to next of kin, the young aleck lawyer and JD. Her uncle had worked at a telegraph station before she came to the ranch to work. She naturally took over the duties for the ranch.
JD had demanded to be constantly in the know and had machines installed at the ranch and in Denver. He got and had her send telegrams at all hours of the day.
She sent the telegram to Maris and Mrs. Peterson. She immediately destroyed evidence that she transcripted one to Nate Springers home for Maris. She had kept the address after shipping the damaged trunks.
"Maris will find the pictures and know I did my best."
She waited two hours before sending the ones to Denver and San Francisco.
"I hope Miss Maris this gives you a little time ahead of them to find your son. I said some prayers to St Michael for you all. Mr Peterson was so angry he didn't show up with their chicanery. I pray he is with you."
"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle; be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil. May God rebuke him, we humbly pray: and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the power of God, thrust into hell satan and all the evil spirits who prowl about the world seeking the ruin of souls. Amen"