Jessie's War (Civil War Steam) (33 page)

“They were paid in pounds?”
Jessie asked.

“Most stable currency in the
world,” Whitfield told her. “Makes the most sense, if you’re paying out huge
sums of money, to use a widely accepted, stable form of currency.”

“Right,” Dupree confirmed. “We
also found the government payments to these alternate accounts, and payments
from the Confederacy, as well. We found what appeared to be payments from other
governments, too, dating back as many as five years. Possibly further.”

From
before Bear Creek
.

The plans for her father’s
shelling mechanism hadn’t been stolen. They’d been sold.

Hiram was responsible for the
shelling of Washington, of New York. For the Battle of Bear Creek and her
brother’s death. Gideon was no casualty of war.

Her brother was the victim of
Hiram’s greed.

Jessie’s knees went weak, her
vision hazing over until she felt a hand on her shoulder, and a glass of water
appeared in front of her. She accepted the glass from Dupree and leaned back
against the hand, seeking the comfort only one person could provide.

“You don’t have to do this,
Jessie,” Luke said. “I can take things from here.”

Jessie shook her head and
resisted the urge to fold herself in his arms. “No, I need to hear this.”

Dupree cleared his throat. “Certainly,
if you’d like to wait for a better time…”

“Absolutely not.” Her voice
sounded too harsh, even to her own ears. “I’d like to continue this now, if you
don’t mind.”

“Absolutely.” Dupree
concurred. “In any case, large sums of money from both the Confederacy and the
Union had appeared in those accounts within the last eighteen months or so.
Granted, we at the Pinkerton Agency don’t have access to those kinds of
records, but your father suspected the payments were for the invention he was
working on right before his death.”

“How could they possibly know
what the invention was?” Jessie asked. “The device was in the planning stages,
and hasn’t been built yet. Why would they buy something that doesn’t exist?”

Even as she said the words, the realization
hit her. Before Bear Creek, the Confederacy had been days from defeat. That
battle had broken the Union surge, and the Union had taken months to recover,
allowing the Confederacy a chance to regroup.

Three years later, both sides
stood at a precipice, caught in a bitter stalemate. Another battle of such
magnitude would break one side or the other.

Perhaps the only honest thing
Hiram had said to her was when he told her he’d sold her father’s invention
on spec.
Both sides needed this
invention. Both sides would do anything to possess it, which made Jessie and
her father pawns caught in the middle of a brutal game between nations.

If the map of scars on Luke’s
back were any indication, he’d risked his life for his cause more than once.

“I can’t answer that,” Dupree
said. “You’ll need to ask them.” He gestured with his chin to Jameson.

Jameson stared back at him
blandly.

Dupree broke eye contact
first. “In any case, I’m sure this would have come to light sooner, but, unfortunately,
our agent disappeared a few months back. At first, we thought perhaps he’d just
gone off plan—it’s not unusual for our agents to disappear for a few
weeks before checking in.”

“Don’t have much control over
your people, if they can just disappear willy-nilly,” Luke said.

Dupree turned his eyes to
Luke. “We give our agents the autonomy to investigate cases as they see fit.”

“You also seem to be equally
unaware when they might be in trouble, too.” Luke’s tone was lazy, almost
bored, but Jessie didn’t miss the malice in his words.

She took Luke’s hand, there
in front of everyone, threading her fingers through his, then she turned to
Dupree. “Mr. Dupree. When Hiram—when Mr. Andersen was killed, the man who
did it said the Confederacy had ‘taken care of his problem with the Pinkerton
Agency.’ I think…”

Dupree held up his hand. “Say
no more, ma’am. We, too, have come to the conclusion our agent met a foul end.
A pity. He was a good and decent man, and an excellent agent. He will be sorely
missed.” He paused for a moment, his eyes drifting from one person to the next.
“I have nothing further. If you have any questions for me, you know where to
find me.” He shook Jameson’s hand, bowed to Elizabeth, and gave Luke a strained
nod.

“Certainly,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll
see you out.”

Dupree turned to Jessie. “Mrs.
Bradshaw, it truly was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I hope you
find what you’re looking for. If you ever have need of us, or simply need to
talk, please contact me.” He handed her a business card, on expensive ivory
card stock, with the address of the Pinkerton Agency’s Chicago office.

“I will,” Jessie said.

Luke grumbled something under
his breath.

Jessie picked up one of the
photographs on the table and studied it for several moments. She couldn’t make
much of the blurred photograph, except for what looked like high desert mountains.
She tapped a photograph with her index finger. “Where is this?”

“Northwest of Logan,” Parker
answered.

“Shoshone territory.”

“That’s right.”

In the center of the table
sat a large sheet of paper. Calipers, a vernier scale, a slide rule, a math
compass, and an artist’s kit lay nearby. The mountains matched the ones in the
photographs, only the drawing contained far more detail, the hazy midsection
clear and precise. In the picture, wikiups dotted a river, and a square
building sat on the mountainside overlooking the valley.

Her eyes met Luke’s. “This is
where you think my father is. In this building.”

“Not in that building, no.”

He and Jameson exchanged a
look.

“It’s too exposed. But if he’s
alive, he’s nearby. My bet is he’s in this mountain here.” Jameson tapped the
drawing with his forefinger. “See this? We think it’s a cave or a mineshaft. He’s
in this mountain, deep underground where no one will find him.”

Something in Luke’s voice had
bothered Jessie, and she turned to him. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” The moment the
words left his mouth, Jessie knew them for a lie.

Whitfield’s gaze shifted
between Luke and Jameson. “We suspect this place is heavily armed and guarded.
Even if we could get through hostile territory, we’d still have to fight our
way past the Confederate soldiers.”

“The natives might not bother
us,” Jessie said. “You forget, they’re a neutral nation, and there’s a lot of
territory. Who’s to say they’ll even notice us?”

“They’re awfully close to
this building,” Parker said. “You can’t honestly believe they wouldn’t notice
four armed white men approaching on horseback.”

“They don’t hassle people who
are minding their own business,” Jessie retorted.

Elizabeth’s lips pressed into
a thin line, and she shook her head at Parker. “Jessie, we think they’re being
paid to guard the site.” She pointed to one of the grainy photographs. “See how
they’re clustered here along the river? I believe they’re also there, along the
ridgeline.” With the tip of her pencil, Elizabeth traced an invisible line in
the photo.

Jessie couldn’t discriminate
any of the details in the blur of gray.

“Like Mr. Dupree said, large
withdrawals have been made from the alternate business account. The last one
was made a little more than a month ago. I suspect that’s when the Confederacy
located your father and took control,” Jameson said. “This is no accident. I
have no doubt these folks are being paid to guard the site.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “We’re
looking at not only trespassing on Shoshone territory and violating the treaty
both the Union and Deseret established with them, but also trying to get past
hundreds of guards, if you count all the Shoshone in the area. We can’t
guarantee that more than one tribe hasn’t been paid off. Not to mention the
additional stress such a violation would put on relations between the Union and
Deseret, if we start something with the Shoshone. There’s already talk of an
independent Deseret. We don’t want that.”

“And after that, there’s the Rebs
to contend with,” Parker said. “This is an impossible task.” He caught Luke’s
eye and something passed between the two men. “We can’t do this.”

“I’m going in,” Luke said.

“We can’t even be sure he’s
still alive,” Parker countered.

“Then the Rebs are putting a
lot of effort into concealing a dead man.” Luke said. “We want him, and we want
his invention. More importantly, we don’t want the Rebs to have either one. We’ve
got to get him out.”

Jameson folded his arms. “We
do, but I’m not risking my entire team for one man.”

“Jameson,” Luke said.

“No.”

“Wait,” Jessie interrupted.
Her eyes shifted from Jameson to Luke and back again. “You’re not thinking of
leaving him there, are you? He’s been there for months. You can’t just leave
him!”

Jameson’s scowl was so severe
Jessie had to force herself not to flinch.

“It’s not something I want to
do,” he said. “But should I risk my entire team for the sake of one man?”

“What about the invention?”
Hysteria began to bubble up from deep inside her chest. “We’re talking about
something so important the Confederacy is willing to do anything to keep
him—house him, pay people to guard him, hide him in hostile territory
rather than risk moving him. They tried to kidnap
me
. They broke into my house and shelled Virginia City. Every man
on that airship must have realized such a mission would be suicide, because
somewhere between Virginia City and Arizona one of our guns was bound to catch
up to them, but they went anyway. So now tell me how unimportant this invention
is. Tell me this
one man
is
unimportant.”

“We don’t know their reasons,”
Elizabeth began.

“We don’t?” Jessie’s voice
rose and broke. “Hiram kidnapped my father and brought him into Shoshone
territory, but the Confederacy has basically invaded Deseret, which wouldn’t go
over very well if Deseret found out. Think of all they’ve risked and lost for
the sake of this
one man.
”

Whitfield turned his
brother-in-law. “She has a point.”

Jameson gave Whitfield a
clipped nod, and when he turned to Jessie, his dark eyes were cautious.

“They haven’t had him all
that long,” she said on a rush of hope. She pressed her finger into the table
as she drove her point home. “It’s been over ten years of solid war. Aren’t you
tired of fighting? Think about what it would be like to live in peace. Isn’t
that what we’re after? Isn’t that why you do what you do?”

Elizabeth’s face was grim,
the saucy smile gone. Her lips were tight, her expression serious. “Jessica,
what do you propose to do?”

“You aren’t really
considering this, are you, Lizzie?” Parker asked.

“Don’t call me Lizzie, Solo.
I want to hear what she has to say.”

Jessie took a deep breath. “Send
me.”

“No.” Luke pushed his chair
back and stood up.

She flinched from the despair
in that single word. Turning to him, she gestured to the maps. “That’s Shoshone
territory. Any of you speak Shoshone?” She paused. “I do. Any of you related to
Ewepu So’wina’?” She squared her shoulders and met each person’s eyes in turn,
despite the way dread coursed through her veins. “I
am.”

“Jessie,” Luke began.

“I violate no treaty if I
tread on Shoshone lands,” she told him. “If my grandfather’s name carries
weight among your
people, think of
what it will do with them. They followed him once. They have their land because
of him.”

“No.”

She heard the plea in that single
word, and ignored that too. “He’s my father, Luke.”

Luke took her by the
shoulders and shook his head. “I’ll get him out for you. Don’t ask this of me.”

Jessie put her hands on her
hips and forced herself to disregard his plea. It hurt to deny him, but she
couldn’t give him this. He could have anything else he asked for—her
body, her soul, her heart—but he couldn’t take this from her. “I’m not
asking.”

“I agree with Luke,” Parker
said. “We shouldn’t even be considering taking her along.”

“Why not? If I were a man,
you’d let me go.” She stepped out of Luke’s grasp.

“If you were a man, this
wouldn’t be an issue, because
he
wouldn’t be as involved.” Parker gestured to Luke. “You being there will be a
danger to all of us.”

“You can’t know that,” Jessie
said. “I can handle myself. Tell them, Luke.”

Luke ran his hands through
his hair. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed his face. “You’ve done
good, Jess.”

“He didn’t say you wouldn’t
get in the way,” Parker snorted when Jessie looked at him triumphantly, “so you
don’t need to preen for me like a pretty little peahen. You’ll compromise us.”