Free Demanding Satisfaction [Bride Train 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Reece Butler

bound to her hotel and isn’t going anywhere. She’ll still be here when we’ve returned our badges to Mr. Pinkerton. Then we’ll come back and see about settling down. You’ll stay away from Tanner’s Ford until this assignment is over.”
    Sam grimaced at the order, which Max knew was more of a token protest. Then he sighed.
    “It won’t be too soon until we can stay in one place for more than a few days. I want to put my head down in my own bed every night. Beside a willing woman,” he added. “One who works hard, enjoys making babies, and cares for her family.”
    The silent “unlike Ma” hung between them in the chill. Max remembered too much about growing up on that farm. Only after they were orphaned did he wonder if his father had killed the ones who’d built the cabin and first tilled the ground. His father was too lazy to do that much work. In any case, he’d gotten what he deserved when he was rousted in turn. It was only luck that he and his two brothers were working on the far side of the well-forested hills when the attack came. Otherwise they’d be dead as well. It was the only home any of them remembered. Few of the memories were good.
    “I want to come home every night to a hot supper and eager woman just as much as you,” said Max. “But we have a couple of assignments to complete first. Mrs. Thatcher and Mrs. McLeod hired the Pinkerton Agency to catch Mr. Isaac. Pinkertons always get their man and we won’t stop until our client is satisfied. That means Isaac in custody or dead.” He absently rubbed a scratch on the back of his hand. “Someone knows things, and they’ll speak. It’s only a matter of time.”
    “I’m with Lily on this one,” said Sam. “I want him dead.” His smile didn’t reach the ice in his eyes. “But not quick like Orville Rivers. I want the sadistic bastard to die slow and hard.”
    Max wanted the same, but he was the senior agent and wouldn’t say anything that would encourage his brother to flout the law. Investigating the trail of tortured and murdered women was more of a smoke screen to their superiors. They’d been sent west to investigate how counterfeit shares had been removed from a railroad vault. Someone very high up had done the deed, and he needed to be caught.
    The investigation at the top had fizzled out. The Gibsons were therefore told to start at the bottom. The connection in the middle should know which senior official had done the deed. Initial enquiries suggested Frederick Smythe and Judge Stickley were most likely to end up with the shares. The railroad, of course, wanted this kept quiet. Because their own men and the law were likely to sell out for gold, the Pinkertons were brought in.
    In the course of their investigation Max and Sam discovered various men, including highly placed officials, had found amazing wealth with surprising ease. More than a few unexplained deaths had also occurred. Most of the deaths were nobodies who had mining claims with high gold yields. For no logical reason, they sold their claims and then disappeared. So did talkative witnesses.
    Without permission to dig deeper they could find no proof. Unlike Pinkerton agents, elected and appointed government men could be bribed and corrupted. So could those working for the railroad. Evidence suggested they often were.
    These crimes were so great Max couldn’t even write down what they’d discovered. He wanted to end his career on a high note by bringing these high-ranking bunko artists to justice. He’d sent their younger brother, Joshua, to speak to Allan Pinkerton directly. The wire Max had just received wasn’t even written in code. All it said was “no.” Max could grind his teeth all he liked. His orders were clear.
    “Our job is to find criminals and bring them to justice, not take matters into our own hands,” said Max abruptly. Sam muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like swearing. “I don’t like it either, but we gave