Passing by the alley in between the boarding house and the bath house, they saw a figure slumped against the wall. They withdrew their pistols and cautiously approached the man.
The man let out a loud groan as he attempted to stand up and reach for his left side. The moonlight hit his face, revealing his identity. James Murray.
Tucking his gun into his belt, Paden rushed toward James and helped him stand. “What happened?” he asked urgently.
“Two men took Emeline.” James winced, and his breathing became labored. “I tried to fight them off, but I… couldn’t…” His words trailed off. “You have to go… after them.”
Rosalie came around to support James from the other side and together they walked him to the main door of the boarding house. Paden pounded on the door.
A middle-aged woman opened it. Her eyes grew wide as she exclaimed, “Good heavens, James! What happened?”
“Nothin’,” he breathed out. “We need to go after Emeline.” His words were so breathless that she barely heard him.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Paden declared as James continued to lean heavily on him. He directed his next comments at the proprietress. “Can you send for a doctor? I think his ribs are broken, and there is a nasty gash on his cheek that needs tending.”
Once James was situated on the sofa, Paden looked up at the flight of stairs. “Is Mr. Holmes in his room?”
“Yes, sir. Would you like me to notify him that you are here?” the woman asked as she wrapped a blanket over James.
“No. We need to speak to him privately,” Paden informed her.
The proprietress shook her head. “I am sorry, but guests aren’t allowed up in the boarders’ rooms. It is a rule.” A worried look came to her face. “Did something happen to Emeline?”
“That’s what we intend to find out.” Glancing around the room, he realized that Rosalie had disappeared, and he knew exactly where she was. “It appears that my wife has already taken it upon herself to go speak to Mr. Holmes.”
She frowned. “Oh, dear. Women are not allowed on the second floor. It’s not safe.”
Trying not to laugh, Paden kept his face expressionless. He feared more for any man foolish enough to get in Rosalie’s way. “If I may be so bold, where does Miss Holmes board then?”
“We share the attic,” she revealed. “There is plenty of room for both of us, and it provides us with privacy.”
Walking closer to the stairs, he asked, “May I go retrieve my wife?”
The woman waved him on as James hissed in pain. “Go. I need to fetch a doctor for Mr. Murray, but don’t make me regret my decision, Mr.…”
“Brooks,” he answered.
Paden watched the realization dawn on her face. “You and your wife were the couple that saved the stagecoach.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then go. Mr. Holmes is in Room 202.”
Needing no further encouragement, he raced up the stairs, retrieved his pistol, and approached the door of Room 202. He knocked and called in a hushed voice, “Rosie?”
The door was partially open, and as he peered inside, he saw Holmes was already tied to an armchair.
“How did you accomplish that feat?” Paden asked, advancing fully into the room and tucking his pistol into his belt.
“I asked him nicely to sit down, and he complied.” Rosalie smirked.
“You threatened to kill me if I didn’t cooperate,” Mr. Holmes huffed. “I demand to know why you are holding me prisoner.”
Walking closer to him, Rosalie took the barrel of her gun and ran it along the length of his jaw. “You are not really in a position to be making threats, are you?”
Paden went and sat on the bed that was pressed up against the wall. “How long have you been working for Bill Garrett?”
Mr. Holmes’ pale, fear-filled eyes flickered between them. “I don’t… uh… know what you are talking about,” he stammered.
Turning his gaze toward Rosalie, Paden let out an exasperated sigh. “It appears that we got it wrong. How silly of us. Mr. Holmes must not have been the man you saw leaving a note in the alleyway. The note which informed Garrett of the upcoming gold delivery.” He rose suddenly. “Shall we?” he asked, pointing toward the door.
Rosalie nodded her understanding. “We could leave,” she started, “or we could inform Mr. Holmes that his sister was abducted on the way home from work tonight.”
“What?” Mr. Holmes shouted, turning to look at her. “Where is Emeline?”
She pressed her lips together. “That’s what we would like to know. We don’t have time for games, Mr. Holmes. If you are going to lie to us, then we aren’t going to help you. We’ll just let you hang for your crimes.”
“Who are you two?” Mr. Holmes asked, his eyes narrowing.
Sitting back down on the bed, Paden answered, “We are Pinkerton agents, and we were hired by Barlow Dispatch & Grizzly’s Peak Express to find the informant who has been telling Bill Garrett about the gold in the mail shipments.”
Mr. Holmes’ shoulders slumped. “I should have suspected that after what happened on the stagecoach. I have never met a Pinkerton agent in person, but I have heard about you guys…” he cleared his throat, “and ladies.”
“Garrett has Emeline, and he is going to keep her alive only until she is no longer of worth to him,” Rosalie explained. “We need you to tell us everything, or we won’t be able to help you.”
A determined look came to Mr. Holmes’ eyes as he straightened in his chair. “About three months ago, a man threatened to kill me if I didn’t reveal the scheduled gold shipments. But
