The Color of Ivy by Peggy Ann Craig Read Free Book Online Page B

inside.  And, at last, successfully apprehended his suspect.
    Behind him, numerous voices rushed him at once.  He was barely able to register any one question, though, oddly, he had heard Ivy McGregor’s plea and the panic in her voice, right before he closed the door.  Kind of odd considering how fierce and determined she had been up to that point.
    Now, for the others.  Releasing a deep guttural sigh, he turned and faced the crowd of angry faces.
    “Listen,” he started, t hen paused to steady his breath.  He hated this part.  “My name is Sam Michalski and I’m a bounty hunter for the United States of America.  For your own safety, it was necessary I confine my prisoner immediately.”
    Allison Radford’s hand shot to her chest.  “Prisoner?”
    He sighed.  “The woman I have just apprehended is Ivy McGregor.  There is a warrant for her arrest for the murder of a prominent gentleman in Chicago.”
    The rush of exclamations which swept over the gathering quieted the train some enabling Sam to finally have his voice heard above the excitement.
    “I’ve been tracking Ms. McGregor for three months.”  He glanced at Allison Radford.  “The same amount of time she has been under your employ.  I believe she came to Canada through the United States from where she was employed under the Hendrickson household.”
    “Moira told us she emigrated from Ireland,” Harold Radford said.
    “Which I believe she probably did,” Sam replied.  “But more like thirteen years ago rather than three months ago.”
    He could see visions of death and murder play ing about in their minds by the horrified expressions on their faces.  Mrs. Radford’s next words confirmed such.
    “Do you think she was planning my murder?” she exclaimed, a hand closing protectively around her white throat.
    Sam noticed the warnings of an impending wave of panic was about to sweep through the passengers, and decided it best to veer it off course.  “I don’t know, ma’am, but I suspect it’s a good thing we have her locked up.”
    “Oh good Lord!”  She turned to her husband.  “We’ve had a murderer living with us!”
    “Is she safely locked away?  Can she escape?”
    “No.  There’s no getting out.  And, no fear folks, I’ll stand guard until we reach our next stop.”
    “What’s there?”
    “ A prison.”  He looked around the curious crowd.  “Why don’t you folks all return to your seats.  Ivy McGregor is secured and will not be of any danger to any of you.  It’s getting late and I’m sure all of you are tired after such an event.”
    Heads slowly nodded their agreement, though fear and shock still was evident on their faces.  He watched as Harold Radford escorted his distraught wife out to the observation car.  Just then the conductor came through the door as they made their exit.
    The conductor was taller than Sam and far stouter and would prove more difficult an opponent than his porters if it came down to that.  Not that Sam was looking for trouble, but he would do whatever it took to ensure he captured his prisoner and brought her back to justice.
    As he neared, Sam noticed already existing wrinkles along the corners of his eyes fold as he approached him.  “Are you the gentleman who struck one of my porters?”
    Leaning casually against a rail, he slipped his hand into his coat pocket and retrieved a cigar and match, before offering his hand.  “Sam Michalski is the name.  United States bounty hunter.  Pass my apolog ies on to the fellow, things got out of hand.  Hope the doc was able to give him something for the pain.”
    “He did,” the conductor confirmed.  “The railroad line does not tolerate assault.  You do understand we will have to lay charges?”
    Sam shrugged, already guessing as much.  Wouldn’t be the first.  “I prefer not to use force, but if necessary, I won’t hesitate to use it.”
    The conductor frowned and glanced over Sam’s shoulders.  “One of the