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His Prisoner
His Prisoner
His Prisoner
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His Prisoner

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Tempting fate, a hapless witness to a robbery and murder takes the stolen money from the robbers' stash to support himself and his daughter, Kate. Over her objections, they plan to head west separately to start a new life.

Jake, a Pinkerton agent, traces the gold to Kate and her missing father. He holds her prisoner to force her to take him to her father and the loot. Jake intends to take him back to face charges and return the gold.

Meantime the real robbers also trace the spent coins to Kate and her Father and start closing in to get their gold back.

Jake now has two reasons to hold his prisoner close...real close.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 12, 2016
ISBN9781680463200
His Prisoner
Author

Lois Carroll

Lois Carroll has been writing since her childhood when she received a daily diary as a gift. With a bachelor’s degree in English Literature and a master's in Theater, she began her professional writing and editing career working at a publishing company. Now a wife, mother, and grandmother, she writes full time.

Read more from Lois Carroll

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    Book preview

    His Prisoner - Lois Carroll

    Special Smashwords Edition

    His Prisoner

    A Novel

    by Lois Carroll

    Published by

    Satin Romance

    An Imprint of Melange Books, LLC

    White Bear Lake, MN 55110

    www.satinromance.com

    His Prisoner, Copyright 2016 Lois Carroll

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should go to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

    ISBN: 978-1-68046-320-0

    Names, characters, and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

    Published in the United States of America.

    Cover Design by Caroline Andrus

    In gratitude to my readers who by buying my books allow me to continue sending free Sophie’s Smocks to

    kids and adults with Angelman Syndrome.

    http://loiscarrollbooks.com/indexSS.htm

    Table of Contents

    His Prisoner

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Chapter Thirteen

    Chapter Fourteen

    Chapter Fifteen

    Epilogue

    About the Author

    Previews

    HIS PRISONER

    by Lois Carroll

    Tempting fate, a hapless witness to a robbery and murder takes the stolen money from the robbers' stash to support himself and his daughter, Kate. Over her objections, they plan to head west separately to start a new life.

    Jake, a Pinkerton agent, traces the gold to Kate and her missing father. He holds her prisoner to force her to take him to her father and the loot. Jake intends to take him back to face charges and return the gold.

    Meantime the real robbers also trace the spent coins to Kate and her Father and start closing in to get their gold back.

    Jake now has two reasons to hold his prisoner close...real close.

    Chapter One

    Her long skirt dragging in the dust, Kate Gleason trudged up the rutted mill-district road. Angry male voices shouting ahead stopped her. Her landlord and his huge henchman were yelling at her father. She ducked between two shacks before they saw her. Her heart raced with fear as she remembered the landlord’s strong hands on her. She shuddered at the thought of what he threatened to do to her if their rent wasn’t paid in full this week.

    She didn’t move until after the evil men rode away and she thought it safe to continue home. But stepping back onto the road, she saw her father run across the dirt street and disappear between the houses across from theirs.

    Why was he racing away just when she was due home to fix his supper?

    ~ * ~

    Thaddeus Gleason stopped running well into town and pulled himself up straight against an alley wall to drag in deep breaths. He felt light-headed from so much exercise after not having eaten all day. He winced as a sharp pain shot across his shoulder blade. It was wounded when his landlord had shoved him against the door frame because he didn’t have the rent.

    Swallowing his fear, he wiped the nervous sweat from his forehead onto the worn sleeve of his jacket. He’d promised the greedy dolt to pay the rent tomorrow, but they both knew he would be asking his beautiful daughter for the coins. If it weren’t for her working long days at her job sewing rich ladies’ dresses at that fancy shop, they would have been evicted long ago.

    Their landlord had smiled and added, Unless of course you’d like to give me your daughter in trade for the rent. He’d laughed, the ugly sound echoed by the bully close behind him. Been a long time since I’ve taken a sweet young virgin like her. It might be worth it for a week’s rent to have her for a night.

    His hands fisted, and Thad had stood as tall as he could manage. Never! I will have the money for you tomorrow, but you will never touch my daughter. Knowing he should feel quite lucky that he still had his teeth and no broken bones after the confrontation, Thad only felt fear and worry over their fate. He had to figure out some way to get money, and now.

    As usual, he’d drunk up all he’d managed to earn this week at the mill. They only had part-time positions open now. The War Between the States had been over for ten years, yet there were still too many men wandering about looking for work. What chance did he have? No one in St. Louis wanted to hire an old farmer who knew nothing except how to raise crops and tend cattle.

    Ironically, he’d found solace at a trade district inn where a fellow could have a pint of ale in peace. They showed him respect and didn’t treat him like dirt. As long as he paid for his drinks, that is. Frowning at how his conscience pained him, he decided he would go to the pub for just a few minutes to ask if they’d heard of anyone hiring. Though if he were lucky, he might find someone willing to buy a pal a pint, too.

    The moonlight lit his way as his steps took him past shops that were already boarded up for the night. Kate would be home soon. He had to hurry. Glancing nervously over his shoulder, he realized he was the only man on the street. He quickened his steps, his worn shoes making little noise on the crushed stone and dirt street.

    Alarmed at hearing horses and a carriage approaching, he ducked into a narrow alleyway between two shops. He didn’t want a fancy-pants riding in the carriage to look down at him like he was a fly on their sweet-cake. Before the carriage passed, however, he heard the horses brought to a noisy halt and several men shouting in the street that he’d thought deserted moments earlier.

    Thad pulled his dark knit cap over his graying head and cautiously peered around the building. A sleek black carriage with an elegant gold painting on the side had stopped in the street. Two big men on horseback held guns pointed at the driver. One of them held tight to the bridle of the lead horse in the team. A third man on foot opened the carriage door and ordered the man inside to get out.

    All gussied up in a dark suit and vest with a stiff, white, high-collared shirt and crisp ascot, the man from inside stepped down and stood erect with his hands up. Do you have any idea who I am? he asked, his chin rising.

    The fat man on the horse laughed. He was dressed as poorly as Thad. His shirt was worn through at the elbows, and Thad could see a hole in the sole of his boot over the stirrup when his horse nervously pranced sideways. His vest wasn’t near big enough to button. Course we do. Now where is it? the man shouted.

    Where is what? I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I insist you release my horses and let me get on my way. I have a riverboat to catch, the passenger said. He glanced up at the man driving the team of horses, but that poor soul sat with his trembling hands up, his eyes wide with fright. Thad could see he’d dropped the reins over the front rail and wouldn’t be a help to anyone. Really, Timmons, is there nothing you can do right? the fancy man asked.

    Not waiting for instruction, the slim man on foot jumped into the carriage and came out holding a canvas bag not much bigger than a loaf of bread. I got it! I got it, and it’s good and heavy, he shouted. He laughed and pranced around in a circle, holding the bag high over his head with both hands.

    You put that back where you found it, the passenger ordered, pointing inside the carriage instead of keeping his hands raised.

    The slim man laughed. Hell, no. We ain’t been watching you for weeks for nothing. This money is ours to keep.

    The passenger lunged for the bag, but the slim man jerked around and leapt several feet away from him, the bag clutched tightly against his chest.

    That’s enough, the fat man yelled, stopping the conflict. You know what to do with it.

    Hell, you told me often enough times, the slim man responded. Can I go bury it now?

    Thad saw the gentleman from the carriage reach inside his jacket and pull out a small pistol. He never had a chance to shoot it though because the heavier man on horseback shot him right in the chest. The gun fell from the fancy man’s hand before he slumped to his knees and then keeled over face down in the dirt.

    The close shot frightened the team of horses. They jerked loose from the other man’s grip and bolted down the street. As they passed Thad, he saw that the driver had been thrown down in front of his bench seat, or else he was hiding there to save his own hide. The horses pulling the carriage, their eyes open wide and their nostrils flared, ran on totally out of control.

    He’s getting away, the slim man with the sack yelled. That driver seen us.

    Shut up. It don’t matter now that we got it. We’ll be gone before they know where to look for us. Not even a Pinkerton man will be able to find us, he bragged with a laugh.

    The other man on horseback dismounted and rolled the victim over on his back.

    He dead? the fat man asked.

    The other man nodded but said nothing. Thad could see now that he wore his dark hair in long braids that fell down his chest Indian-style.

    We gotta get out of here, the fat man yelled. This is where we split up. You run and hide that money where we said, and we’ll meet back there in one week from tonight to dig it up together. And until then, remember to get out of town and stay out of sight. Don’t do nothing stupid.

    The two big men took off down the road and headed in opposite directions at the next corner. As they passed, Thad got a better look at the fat man whose big smile showed his rotten teeth. He had heavy brows, a big nose, and a cruel smile. Thad shivered. The man looked like he had enjoyed killing the passenger.

    Thad didn’t dare lean out from his hiding place to peak at the third man, because he heard his footsteps nearing. If the slim man saw him and knew that he had witnessed the robbery, he was as good as dead. What would his sweet Kate do then without her pap to watch out for her?

    In seconds, the man ran right past without seeing Thad. The air escaped Thad’s lungs in a rush. Peering around the building in the direction the man had run, he saw him turn onto the cemetery road that led to the big church up on the hill beyond the shops. From there it went straight to the cemetery.

    Licking his lips, Thad felt real thirsty. However, he was mighty curious too. It had to be money in the sack. But how much money was in the sack that they would shoot a man for it? He stepped out on the walkway and glanced back at the robbery site. No one had discovered the body yet, but he heard footfalls coming his way. Not wanting to be found near the scene of a crime, Thad ran. At the corner he turned up the cemetery road.

    Any light from the sun was gone, but the moon had risen. He could see that the slim robber hadn’t paused at the church but had kept running. Thad figured the cemetery had to be his destination. Following him through the wooden gates at a safe distance, Thad stepped off the road onto the grass to silence his footsteps. High enough to see most of the cemetery, Thad watched from behind a carved marble angel until the robber stopped. He dropped to his hands and knees and began clawing at the flowers on a grave. He left the blooms beside him in a heap.

    After creating a hole, he dropped the bag in and pushed the soil back to cover it. Topping the area with the flowers, he spread the extra dirt he had left in the pile around the edge of the mound. Apparently done, he rose and wiped his dirty hands on his pants.

    Suddenly, a cloud passed over the moon. For a minute or two, it was pitch black in the cemetery, making the robber curse. Thad could hear him picking his way back to the road from where he’d buried the loot. He cursed when he must have walked into a gravestone. As soon as the cloud moved beyond the moon and they both could see again, the man took off at a run around the church. When the footsteps stomping the gravel path stopped, Thad heard a horse whinny and then a horse gallop away. A horse tied at the far side of the cemetery had made his getaway easy.

    After checking for anyone else watching, Thad ran to the grave and ripped up the flowers without any concern for their welfare. He clawed repeatedly at the soft earth like a dog digging for a buried bone. Soon he felt the heavy fabric of the bag and yanked it free from its tomb. Brushing it off and shaking it to remove the soil that clung to the sturdy weave, he heard the clinking of coins inside.

    Thank you. Thank you for the answer to our prayers, he whispered. It’ll be different now, Mary, he added in a message to his late wife. I can take good care of Kate now.

    Disregarding the soil still embedded in the fabric, he stuffed the sack under his shirt for safekeeping and closed his jacket. Pressing against the bag with one hand to hold it silently in place, he ran for all he was worth. Cutting across the cemetery in the opposite direction from the robber, he came out on a street past the robbery site. He heard men’s shouts from that direction but continued toward the inn he knew. He needed a drink, and he had to see what was in the bag.

    Slowing his pace and trying to slow his breathing rate as well, he stepped inside. The smell of venison stew and years of spilled ale assailed him, making his empty stomach lurch. Swallowing hard, he moved away from the fire roaring in the fireplace. Slipping between the long tables, he kept his eyes averted. He didn’t want to attract any company to witness opening the sack. He chose a seat in the far corner, nowhere near the other customers.

    The barmaid came over to take his order. Confident he could pay for it with coins from the bag, he asked for a tankard of dark ale. After her back was turned to go fill his order, he slipped his hand inside his shirt and tugged at the leather strip that held the sack shut. He loosened the tie enough to get two fingers inside. The coins all felt all the same goodly size, so he pulled just one out and tugged the ties tight again. Looking around to see if he’d drawn any attention, he closed his jacket over the bulge in his shirt and leaned back in his chair.

    The coin nearly burned a hole in his fist as the girl returned too quickly with his ale. He thanked her and unfortunately caught the eye of one of the men drinking with two others by the fire. Damn, he muttered under his breath. He looked away but not quickly enough. All three of the men were coming over to join him. Any other time he would have welcomed their friendly companionship. He gulped down half his ale to fortify himself. His empty stomach cramped around the foaming contents.

    Thad, you old devil. We didn’t see you over here all by yourself. The man slapped his mug on the table, and ale splashed out onto the well-worn surface. You musta hit a bit of luck if you’re in here on rent day, big as you please, ordering up a pint of ale.

    Thad grinned, his fist still tightly closed over the large coin. Just a swallow or two and I have to get home to supper, Whitey. Can’t keep my little girl waiting.

    The men laughed. Ready for another round, gents? the barmaid asked.

    No, no, not me, Thad insisted immediately. I gotta git home. Just came in for a quick one. His stomach be damned. He picked up his glass and downed the rest without stopping.

    Then you’ll be wanting to pay for that ale now, she said, holding out her hand. She wasn’t about to let anyone stiff her.

    Thad looked from her to the men, all of whom were watching him. He grinned and stood. Of course, my girl. Wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Prepared for the worst but hoping for a miracle, he turned his fist palm up and opened his fingers slowly. All eyes were on his hand. They widened as they saw the prize glittering on his muddy hand.

    I’ll be damned, Whitey whispered.

    It’s gold, said another. Ain’t it, Thad?

    Nah, couldn’t be. What’s he doing with gold? the barmaid put in. The trio on the far side of the table laughed.

    Thad swallowed past his fear and tried his best to keep grinning. The barmaid snatched the coin and bit it. Looking at the marks of her bite on the metal, she turned to the bar. Hey, Hoppy, get over here. I think this guy’s got real gold.

    Not necessary to make a fuss over my good fortune, Thad insisted, edging his way past her, his hand still over the sack of coins to be certain his booty stayed in place. I must leave now though. My daughter should have supper on the table. I trust you all can put this coin to good use. Drinks all around are on me as long as this lasts, he shouted, stepping even closer to the door.

    A cheer went up from the eight or nine men seated around the room. In the rush and confusion of men calling out their drink preferences while trying to catch a glimpse of the gold coin, Thad slipped out of the inn and took off at a run. He headed down a different street so he could circle wide around the site of the robbery. He ran as much of the way home as he could, though his legs felt on fire and a stitch in his side cramped as if he’d been stabbed with a red hot poker. But Thad was too frightened to stop. Finally reaching his porch, he saw the lamp was lit inside and smelled the stew that Kate had ready for supper.

    He rushed through the door and shut it with his shoulder so he could quickly lock it with his free hand. Hurry, he gasped in his breathless state. We have to pack. He swallowed hard. No, eat first and then pack, he amended. No sense to wasting the precious food.

    He crossed to the little table as he unbuttoned his jacket and shirt. He pulled out the sack of gold coins and dropped it on the table in front of a surprised Kate. We have to be out of here by the light of dawn.

    ~ * ~

    Kate watched her pa’s strange actions in disbelief and sighed. They’d lost the farm, where they had been so happy, and moved to St. Louis to find work. Her sewing talents that her mother had taught her at a tender age had been their salvation. Thad, on the other hand, could claim no successes, just excesses.

    Get that dirty sack off the table, she ordered as she ladled stew into two bowls and carried them to the table.

    Thad grinned, but he was still breathing hard and didn’t speak.

    And what’s so funny? she asked, sitting down opposite him. You’re wearing a silly grin that stretches from ear to ear.

    When Thad didn’t move to get rid of the muddy bag, she reached for it to toss it on the floor for the time being. But he held it on the table. Okay, so what is it, Pa? What’s so all-fired important that you want that dirty bag sharing the supper table with our food? she asked as she ate a mouthful of stew.

    Thad swallowed a gulp of coffee and finally said, It’s our ticket out of this hovel. We can go somewhere now and buy us a little farm like before. You can live the life you deserve without sewing long hours for that French bitch you work for.

    Pa, don’t talk about Madame that way. She puts food on our table and pays our rent.

    I know, child, but no more.

    Pa, I’m not a child anymore, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m nineteen years old, and I don’t mind working my share to buy what we need.

    Oh, my sweet child, he whispered. She glared at him for calling her a child again, but he continued. I want better for you, and now I can give it to you.

    Just look at your hands, she countered, not giving him a chance to explain. They’re as muddy as the sack, and here you sit to eat your supper.

    Looking up, she saw the hurt look on his face and immediately felt contrite. At least her father was trying to do better by them, or was he deluding himself with some magic beans in the sack?

    She sighed. All right, Pa. Tell me what’s going on. What’s in the sack that’s so important?

    Thad laughed and looked decidedly relieved. His grin returned as he untied the sack and upended it, dumping all the gold coins on the table. A few bounced off and fell onto the floor. One rolled under his bed out of sight. He reached down to grab the ones he saw as he began to tell Kate about his adventures that evening. Insisting they eat during the telling, he told her he wanted to turn their attention to packing as soon as possible so they could leave.

    But you can’t keep the gold, Pa. It’s stolen money and doesn’t belong to us.

    Ah, Katie, I didn’t steal it. I found it buried in the dirt up in the cemetery. It’s our treasure. Besides, the fella who owned it is dead and won’t be needing it anymore. Now you and I, we need it something fierce, and we’re keeping it. He continued shoveling the stew into his mouth.

    But Pa... she began only to have him cut her off.

    Don’t ‘but Pa’ me. I’m your father, and I will decide what we’ll do. We’ll finish eating and then you get out your needle and thread first before we pack. We’ll split these coins up, and you’re gonna sew some into your petticoat and the others into the lining of my jacket to protect them. We’ll each carry a few in our pockets for expenses, but we’ll have the rest hidden, see?

    Kate didn’t want any part of stolen money. When the stew was gone, Kate stood to take the dishes over to the pan of water to wash them. How could she get her father to understand that no matter how he came upon the money, it wasn’t theirs? They couldn’t keep it.

    Leave those dishes. The way I see it, I’ll leave town tonight and meet you in a little town in Kansas called Olathe. I come through there once with your ma. It’s a quiet little town not too far south of Kansas City. I’ll get there first and find us a place to live, and then you leave in the morning. I don’t want you with me in case someone saw me tonight.

    But I can’t leave in the morning. I get my pay from Madame tomorrow, and I have nothing to wear for such a journey. But Madame takes clothes in partial trade for new garments. She has a traveling suit that would fit me, and it shouldn’t be too dear.

    And you can get paid tomorrow? her father asked. She nodded. I guess you’ll have to give it to the landlord for rent. You’ll have enough, won’t you?

    Yes, Pa, with all the extra work we had this week. She could only hope there would be enough if she took the suit as a substitute for pay.

    Good. Now you just give the money to the landlord when he comes, and shut the door. You don’t have to even talk to him.

    Kate had paid him before when her pa hadn’t come home in time, but she didn’t like doing it.

    Then you can leave the next day and take a stagecoach all the way to Kansas so you don’t have to ride no horse. I don’t expect you’ll have more money from Madame than to pay the rent, so use a gold coin to buy the ticket, but don’t buy it until it’s just about time to leave. That way no one will have time to ask you about having gold. When you get to Olathe, just ask the men at the Mahaffie Stagecoach Stop about where I live. I’ll make sure they know where I am so you can find me easy like.

    But, Pa, this is wrong. And I don’t understand why we have to travel separately. I’d much rather be with you. Can’t you wait?

    If anyone saw me near the robbery tonight, I would put you in danger being with me. I wouldn’t want that.

    But Pa, what if something happens to you? What if they think you stole these gold coins?

    I’ll keep my wits about me, girl. No one knows I saw the robbery, and I heard them robbers say they weren’t coming back to dig up the gold for a whole week. I’ll be too far gone to find me by then, and so will you.

    He grinned and Kate knew he expected her to agree with him, but she couldn’t. I don’t know, Pa. It’s just not right keeping money that isn’t yours.

    Don’t you worry none. Out in Kansas where no one knows us, we can start a new life. You’ll see. But come on and get sewing. I got to get me a horse and get out of town before the sun rises.

    Kate had no choice but to obey her father. But what if someone saw him take the gold? And wasn’t taking the gold from the robber’s hiding place the same as stealing it in the first place? She couldn’t bear to think of Thad in prison. Not for a minute.

    No, there was no way out of it. Her father was determined to leave town, and she had to protect him despite what he’d done. They had to use the gold to head west and get away from everyone who knew them by sight. When they were safe, she’d figure out how to get the money back to its rightful owners in such a way that wouldn’t get her pa into big trouble with the law.

    She rose to get her sewing box while her pa began to pack his few clothes and tools.

    ~ * ~

    Jake Corbet knocked on the door of the head of the St. Louis office of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency. Not opening the door until he’d heard the enter from inside, he closed it behind him and crossed to the desk to shake hands with Carl Blair.

    Sit down, Jake. Good to see you, Blair said with a wide smile.

    Thank you, sir, Jake replied respectfully as he sat in the leather chair facing the big desk. "I came as soon as I got

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