Not sure how to answer, Amey chose to remain silent. It was evident that Mr. Hopkins didn’t want to be interrupted.
“But what is this?” he asked, pulling out a second piece of paper.
“I couldn’t say, sir,” she replied.
He held up the paper. “It is a complaint from the sheriff of Copper Springs about you.”
“Oh,” she murmured.
“Oh?” he repeated with a lifted brow. “Is that all you can say about the matter?”
She winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Please stop me if I missed something.” He brought the paper back in front of him and started reading. “You barged into a wedding, accused the groom of bank robbery and murder, and you tried to arrest him.”
“I thought he was…”
“I know who you thought he was,” Mr. Hopkins interrupted, tossing the paper back onto the desk. “Your obsession over Billy Joe Campbell must come to an end.”
“How can you say that to me?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat. “He killed my brother.”
“I daresay that he’s killed more than your brother,” Mr. Hopkins pointed out. “He’s a dangerous fugitive.”
“Which is why I must stop him!” she declared.
“No, you need to take a step back and let someone else handle it.”
“With all due respect, sir, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“It isn’t a request, agent.”
“I don’t think I can,” she admitted softly, then pressed her lips together.
Mr. Hopkins let out a deep sigh. “I was afraid of that,” he said. “Which is why I have decided to transfer you to the Denver office.”
Amey jumped up from her chair. “What? You can’t transfer me!”
“I can, and I will,” Mr. Hopkins countered, “assuming you want to continue working as a Pinkerton agent.”
Slowly, Amey lowered herself onto her chair. “But Chicago is my home. I couldn’t possibly leave.”
“If you don’t report to the Denver office in one week, I will have no choice but to fire you,” Mr. Hopkins explained.
She felt the blood drain from her face. “Fire me?”
Mr. Hopkins’s face softened. “Go to Denver and work a few cases,” he encouraged. “You may discover that you prefer it there.”
“I truly doubt that will be the case.”
“The scene you caused in Copper Springs embarrassed the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and that sheriff demanded your termination,” he explained. “Frankly, you’re lucky that Mr. Pinkerton didn’t fire you immediately.”
“But I was between assignments…”
He held his hand up. “There is no such thing as an off-duty Pinkerton agent, and you know that.”
“I had to track down that lead,” she argued.
“That’s the problem, Barney,” Mr. Hopkins began, “you always go half-cocked the moment you think you have picked up the trail of Billy Joe Campbell.”
“That’s not entirely true,” she attempted.
Mr. Hopkins lifted his brow. “This isn’t the first time you attempted to arrest the wrong man.”
She winced slightly. “Billy Joe Campbell is out there somewhere.”
“Or he could be dead,” he pointed out. “After all, it’s been more than two years since anyone has seen the man.”
“No, he’s too surly to die.”
Mr. Hopkins picked up another file from the corner of his desk and placed it in front of him. “I have your train ticket to Denver,” he said, opening the file.
“Can I please have another chance, Mr. Hopkins?” she asked, hopefully.
The supervisor gave her a weak smile. “I’m afraid I can’t give you another chance,” he replied. “Ever since the great fire, we haven’t had as many cases come in, and I’m afraid I’ve had to let people go. Believe it or not, you are one of the lucky ones who are being transferred.”
“Oh,” she said, biting her lower lip.
“You’re a good agent, Barney,” he pressed. “You have good instincts, and you’ve solved more cases than most of the men in the Chicago office. But my decision is final.”
“Then I suppose I have no choice but to go to Colorado,” she replied, clasping her hands in her lap.
“Good choice.” He extended her a train ticket. “I hope you find enjoyment in Denver, Agent Barney. I truly do.”
She accepted the ticket and rose. “Thank you, Mr. Hopkins.”
“I’ll wire Mr. Archie Gordon to let him know to expect you in the next week,” Mr. Hopkins said.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
Mr. Hopkins’s expression remained stern, but she heard compassion creep into his voice. “I’ve enjoyed working with you, agent. I have no doubt that you will be a tremendous asset to the Denver office.”
Amey offered him a weak smile before she turned to leave. After she closed the door behind her, Mrs. Reeves spoke up.
“Whatever is the matter, dear?”
She held up her train ticket. “I’ve been transferred to the Denver office.”
“Oh, my,” Mrs. Reeves murmured. “I hadn’t expected that.”
Tears came to Amey’s eyes, but she quickly blinked them back. Pinkerton agents did not cry, especially not in public.
“I don’t want to leave Chicago,” she admitted.
Mrs. Reeves rose from her chair and came over to embrace her. “You may discover that you prefer the Denver office,” she murmured against her hair.
“I highly doubt that will be the case.”
Stepping back, Mrs. Reeves said, “Alexina was transferred to the Denver office just over a month ago, and she willingly chose to stay when Mr. Hopkins asked her to return.”
“That’s true,” Amey reluctantly admitted. “Perhaps I should consider it a grand adventure to be moving to the Wild West.”
“And you will be closer to your family.”
Amey’s mood soured. “I suppose so.”
She had no desire to be near her family.
Not anymore.
“I’d better go home and start packing,” Amey said as she moved toward the door.
Mrs. Reeves offered her a kind smile. “It will all work out. You’ll see.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Reeves,” she replied before she exited the building.
As she hurried down the steps, Amey attempted to stay positive about her upcoming move. She had moved to Chicago over five years ago after she responded to a newspaper ad for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. They
