Storing Up Trouble, стр. 65

Before Harvey could do more than blink, Agent Cochran was in motion, racing down the street.

“How am I supposed to see after this criminal when I don’t even have a pistol to—”

Whatever else Harvey had been about to say got lost when James McCaleb suddenly headbutted Harvey, which had him dropping like a stone to the ground. McCaleb then bolted away, moving remarkably fast for a man without the use of his hands.

Beatrix, with Theodosia by her side, took a step forward, preparing to run after the man. But she was pulled to an abrupt stop a few seconds later by Harvey, who had gotten rather unsteadily to his feet.

“You two have no business chasing after a criminal. You’re ladies, and as such, you need to leave this nastiness to the discretion of men,” Harvey rasped, keeping a firm grip on Beatrix’s arm when she tried to tug it away from him.

“Release me,” Beatrix said between gritted teeth.

“I think not,” Harvey returned before he frowned at Theodosia. “Your father would never forgive me if I let something happen to you. Why, it’s bad enough you threw yourself into a brawl, but I’ll not tell your father the details of that if you behave yourself from this point forward.”

Theodosia shoved back a hat that had slipped almost over her eyes. “You overstep yourself, Harvey. You have no authority over me, and I’ll thank you to remember that.”

“Your father and I have an understanding in regards to you,” Harvey said, continuing to hold Theodosia’s arm although he did release Beatrix’s.

“I don’t know you nearly well enough for you to have any type of understanding with my father.” Theodosia shrugged her way out of his hold. “Do know, however, that I intend to have a chat with Father at my earliest convenience since he’s suffering from some type of misunderstanding about the two of us.”

“I would think his expectations should already be clear to you,” Harvey argued. “Surely you’ve realized how amiable he’s been to the idea of me escorting you around town.”

“You’re taking me to a ball,” Theodosia said impatiently, looking around. “That’s not escorting me around town.” She nodded to something over Harvey’s shoulder. “Seems like half the city’s police are descending on the scene. We should give them our account of what happened, which will hopefully assist them with apprehending the criminals.”

Beatrix nodded, tightened her grip on the satchel, then fell into step with Theodosia as Harvey trailed after them. They were quickly approached by three officers, who immediately began taking notes as they recounted their stories.

As she talked to the policemen, Beatrix saw numerous customers from Marshall Field & Company pass by, as well as numerous employees. But whereas the employees sent her looks of concern, the customers regarded her with suspicion, as if she’d done something wrong and was now being interrogated by the police about it.

She couldn’t help but wonder—and not for the first time—how those ladies would have reacted if they knew her as Miss Beatrix Waterbury, grand American heiress, instead of a salesgirl from a store they frequented.

“There’s Norman,” Theodosia said. “He must have lost the man he was chasing as well, but . . . oh dear, he seems to be experiencing some difficulty with Mort.”

Excusing herself from Officer Stewart, the policeman who’d just finished questioning her, Beatrix turned her attention to a most curious scene unfolding half a block away.

Norman was standing in the middle of the street, gesturing to a mule that appeared to have turned stubborn since the animal was not moving a single inch, blocking traffic in the process.

“Should I assume that’s Mort?” Beatrix asked.

Theodosia nodded. “Indeed. Norman only recently purchased him, even though I told him mules have a tendency to be tricky, but he wouldn’t listen.” She shook her head as Norman tugged on Mort’s reins to no avail. “Bet he wishes he’d listened to me now.”

“While I’m more than intrigued about why Norman would have purchased a mule, I believe he needs some assistance.”

After handing Norman’s satchel to Theodosia, Beatrix slipped through the congested traffic, stopping a few feet from Norman.

He was looking the worse for wear, his clothing dirty and his face smeared with blood, while a distinct trace of annoyance radiated from him as he tried to pull Mort into motion.

“You’re trying my patience,” Beatrix heard him say. “And while you’re obviously feeling very disappointed that you were unable to catch that criminal, we have important matters to attend to now, such as ascertaining that Beatrix and Theo haven’t been harmed. That means you need to stop being muleheaded and come with me.”

“Theodosia and I are fine,” Beatrix said, which had Norman lifting his head, relief replacing the annoyance as he looked her over. “As for your mule, may I suggest you simply release the reins and walk away from him? Mules are complicated creatures, and Mort may be testing you at the moment to see how much he can get away with. I would advise you to not allow him to do that because you’ll never be able to manage him properly after that.”

Norman frowned. “You think I should let go of the reins?”

“I do. That will show him you’re the boss, and he should eventually follow you.” She glanced at Mort and frowned. “Although mules are unpredictable, so my advice might be way off the mark.”

“Since I don’t have any other thoughts about how to get him to move, I’m willing to give it a go,” Norman said, dropping the reins and striding Beatrix’s way, taking her arm once he reached her side. “Shall we?” he asked, tugging her forward without so much as a single look back at Mort.

Beatrix tried to sneak a peek but stopped when Norman shook his head. “Aren’t you even curious as to whether or not he’s following us?” she asked.

“’Course I am, but at the risk of allowing him to believe he’s got the upper hand, I’m going to ignore my curiosity for the