Murder on the Orient Espresso (24 page)

‘If you're not back by, say, tomorrow morning, what should we do?' Prudence asked. ‘Send out a search party?'

Pavlik and Boyce were standing at the door by the dining car – the exit The Raiders of the Last Car had used to sneak back the booze. I was on the opposite end of the passenger car, keeping an eye on the door the coffee man had been guarding earlier.

‘What do you think?' Pavlik said to his new sidekick. ‘Noon tomorrow?'

Boyce nodded. ‘Don't send anybody out alone, though. At least two people.'

A hand went up. ‘But what about snakes? And alligators?' Missy asked in a shaky voice.

‘We'll take my knife and Ms Edmonds' pistol.' Pavlik held it up, index finger carefully outside the trigger guard. ‘If anyone else happens to have a—'

With that, a dozen handguns appeared from holsters and handbags, fanny packs and pockets.

Pavlik shrugged. ‘How could I forget we're in South Florida?'

‘Don't leave home without 'em,' Harvey said. ‘I think you'll like my Glock Forty.'

‘I have a forty-five Colt,' Prudence said. ‘Great stopping power …'

Vaguely relieved that none of The (unofficial) Untouchables had sub-machine guns, I left the group to debate the relative pros and cons of our available weapons and sat down on the stool by the door, feeling adrift. Pavlik was the only one of these people I'd known for more than twenty-four hours, and now he was leaving me here alone with them.

And one of ‘them' was a murderer.

Yes, it was for a good reason. And, of course, he was taking far more risk than—

‘You OK?' Missy asked quietly. I hadn't noticed her come back.

I gave her a smile. ‘Yeah, just a little—'

‘Scared?' She sat down on the edge of the seat nearest me, legs swiveled into the aisle so we could talk. ‘Me, too. This was all my idea and it's my fault that we're stranded here. And, and …' She gestured toward the door leading to Larry Potter's body and a sob escaped from her throat.

I tried to reassure the girl. ‘You had no way of knowing a severe storm was going to hit or that the track bed would become unstable.'

‘But that's the point,' she said. ‘The mystery train which I wanted us to take wasn't up and running yet, so I, I … kind of cobbled things together.'

Hence, Theodore B. Hertel, Jr, the aged-out engineer, Pete the ‘pretend' conductor/bartender and the incomplete and perhaps improperly built track. All to save face – and her event.

But no good would be served by reminding Missy of that now.

‘Fine mess you got us into here,' a different voice snapped. Zoe Scarlett was standing over Missy. ‘Stuck here without any food and now we're even running out of things to drink.'

I was thinking cause and effect. Zoe looked like she had one howler of a hangover.

‘I'm so sorry,' the girl said tearfully. ‘If you want, I'll go with the sheriff and Mr Boyce.'

‘You'll do no such thing,' I said. ‘We may need you here.'

Pavlik came up behind Zoe's right shoulder. ‘You two ladies mind if I have a word alone with Maggy?'

Missy sniffled and shook her head, disappearing into the stinky bathroom. Zoe pivoted and went a few seats back and collapsed, palm to her forehead.

Pavlik held out a smallish gun to me, and I took it from him carefully. It was a semi-automatic, but that's about all I could tell you. Nor, believe me, did I know or care whether the diameter of the ammunition was measured by caliber or in millimeters. ‘Loaded?'

‘It is. Plus the safety is off and I've chambered the first round, so if you pull the trigger, a slug flies out of the muzzle and toward whatever you're aiming at.'

‘How many bullets in this?'

‘Seven. Just level on bad guy-or-girl's belt buckle and fire 'til they fall. Oh, and here's some extra ammunition.' He handed me something the size and shape – if ten times the heft – of an old kitchen matchbox.

If I couldn't stop the killer with seven, I somehow didn't envision having the time, or even know-how, to reload, but I accepted the extra rounds from him. Their ‘box' reminded me of the match
book
I'd found. ‘I know this doesn't have any bearing on our most immediate problem, but Audra Edmonds says Titanium is a sex club her husband spent time at. Pointedly without her.'

‘A woman scorned?' Pavlik suggested.

‘A woman cheated upon,' I said. ‘Believe me, we're capable of anything.'

‘Thanks for the warning.' He put his hand on my shoulder. ‘You going to be all right here?'

I wanted to say, ‘No. Take me with you. Leave a bigger, stronger, actually
trained
Boyce here with these strangers, one of whom is a killer.'

Instead, I stood up. Setting the gun and ammunition carefully on the stool, I wrapped my arms around Pavlik and rested my head on his chest. ‘I'll be fine.'

He caressed my hair. ‘Take the stool and sit on the sleeping-car side of the door. Don't worry about touching things, the police can always take and then exclude your prints. If anybody tries to come through this door, warn them you'll shoot. They keep coming, blow them away.'

‘Gotcha.'

Pavlik tilted my face up toward his. ‘I'm serious.'

‘I know you are. I won't let anybody in.'

‘It's not protecting the crime scene I'm worried about. It's your being hurt.' Pavlik's eyes were about as dark as I'd ever seen them.

I pulled his head down to my lips and kissed him. ‘Please come back soon. And safe. I'll be OK, but just … please come back.'

‘You got it.' He was smiling. ‘Believe me, the last thing I want to tour is the inside of a python's gut.'

‘Which
would
be the last thing you ever toured. Promise me if you come across any predators, you'll shoot first and worry about environmental protection later.'

‘Promise.' He crossed his heart with his fingertips and then touched them to my lips.

I smiled and stepped back. ‘Got your cell phone? And is it all charged?'

‘Yup, and Boyce is AT&T and I'm Verizon, so we've got at least those two carriers covered.'

‘Would you like to take mine, too, just in case?' I dug it out of my pocket. ‘It's not doing me any good here.'

‘I could, but then how would you count the minutes until my return?'

‘Huh. That's very true.' I slipped the phone back into my pocket. ‘Now get the hell out of here and save us.'

W
hen Pavlik and Boyce left the train at 8 a.m., I waved goodbye through the window.

Happily, the day had dawned bright and sunny. Locals said that sunset would be around 6:30 p.m. this time of year, so that would give the two men more than ten hours of daylight. I hoped that was enough.

In fact, I was kind of hoping they'd walk about 100 feet, raise the cell phones over their heads like I always did when I was looking for service and, bingo, there it would be.

Once they'd been gone a half hour, though, I decided to do as Pavlik suggested.

‘I'm going to move into the next car,' I told Missy. ‘Would you make sure people know it's still off limits? Pavlik told me I should shoot to kill.'

Missy's eyes grew wide. ‘You know how to fire a gun?'

‘Pavlik taught me,' I said. ‘But what about you? I keep hearing how everybody here has a permit to carry.'

‘Oh, I do, too,' Missy said, ‘but I barely know which end of my gun to hold. They only have you fire three bullets to qualify at the gun range.'

South Florida sure did seem to make it easy, but given the wildlife, I wasn't sure I blamed the authorities. If an alligator or python walked or slithered into my backyard, I might want some way to protect myself and any kids or pets.

Leaving Missy behind, I went through the door into the vestibule, where I'd found the matchbook, and then on to the sleeping car. The interior of it was very quiet.

Setting down the gun and the box of extra bullets by the door to the roomette where Potter's body lay, I returned to the passenger car to retrieve the stool.

‘Am I in your way?'

I turned to see Danny sitting across the last two seats on the right, back against the window, feet poking into the aisle.

‘No, you're fine,' I said, folding up the stool. ‘I just need to take this back. If you're going to be sitting here, could you let people know the sleeping car is still off limits?'

‘Sure.' He swung his legs off the seat and leaned forward. ‘Missy already told me that, though. I think she went to get cardboard and markers to tape something up on the door.'

The girl was a natural event-planner. When in doubt, make a sign.

‘Missy's great,' I said, figuring it couldn't hurt to build her up in his eyes. Maybe something good could come of this trip. ‘She's very … efficient.'

Way to go Maggy. Every guy is looking for a woman who's … ‘efficient.'

‘Yeah, and kind of sexy, too.' I brightened momentarily, but he finished with, ‘Too bad she's not my style.'

I wondered who was. Audra Edmonds, perhaps?

I perched on the edge of the seat across from him, thinking that with Pavlik off on his mission to find help and get us out of here, this might be my last opportunity to grill Danny. Or at least I hoped it would be. ‘Bet you didn't expect all this when you signed up for the conference.'

‘You've got that right. I really lucked into it.'

‘There's a dead man in the next car and we're stranded in the Everglades. You call that “luck”?'

‘But look who the dead man is. And who I'm stranded with. I hear people bond for life over experiences like this. You can ask them for favors years later and they'll come through.'

‘You remind me of my son,' I said, lying through my teeth. Eric was five years younger and an actual human being.

‘Oh, yeah?' Danny said. ‘Does he write?'

‘No, but he texts regularly.' I smiled. ‘Now tell me about your book – or is it called a manuscript at this stage?'

‘Getting closer to becoming a book with every minute we're here.' He lowered his voice confidingly. ‘I've snagged an agent.'

‘Congratulatons!' I said. ‘Who is it?'

‘Carson – that guy who doesn't shake hands. Audra introduced us.'

How accommodating of the widow. And the agent. Maybe my speculation about Carson wasn't as farfetched as Pavlik seemed to think. ‘But isn't that a little awkward?'

‘Awkward? Why?'

‘I understand your book is very much like Mr Potter and Ms Edmonds' projected novel.'

‘Projected, maybe. But it's not going to happen.' The kid might be sitting down, but there was a definite swagger in his voice.

‘Really?' I asked innocently. ‘Have you and Ms Edmonds decided to collaborate on
your
book, instead?'

‘My book?' He seemed genuinely shocked.

‘Yes, of course. Since Audra introduced you to her agent, I thought she might have a new partnership in mind. Assuming,' a thought had struck me, ‘this all happened after her husband was dead.'

The young man's eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean by that?'

I shrugged. ‘Seems clear to me. Did Audra introduce you to Carson before or after the sheriff and I returned to the train with Potter's body?'

I could see the wheels turning in the young man's head. ‘After, definitely after. I remember because I figured Audra agreed to introduce me because she was grateful for my help.'

‘Your help?'

‘Sure. We bonded when I took her to the club car after she nearly shot that guy.'

Boyce, standing guard over Potter's already cold body.

On the other hand, sweat was beading on Danny's upper lip. ‘Shit. I hope she didn't get that idea. I mean, Audra's awfully old and this is a sex book.'

I opened my mouth to inform the little twerp that even a woman of Audra's advanced age, which I judged to be early forties, still had sex.

And then I remembered she apparently didn't. At least, not with her husband.

Back in the sleeping car, I unfolded the stool and situated it across from the door of the roomette where Potter's body lay. Sitting down, I tried to figure out what to do with the pistol. On the floor, it was too far away from me to easily reach. Maybe I'd just sit on the floor next to it.

Though I'd wasted ten minutes of my life going back to get the stool, at least my conversation with Danny had been enlightening. If the kid was to be believed, he'd achieved everything he'd wanted when he'd set foot on the bus: not only was there no book forthcoming from Potter and Edmonds, but he'd secured a literary agent.

According to Danny, the initial contact with Carson had been via email – almost certainly the accusatory message Carson had mentioned. Then, in gratitude for Danny's aid during this so-called bonding opportunity he had ‘lucked into,' Audra had introduced aspiring writer to agent.

Carson hadn't yet been approached by Danny when Pavlik and I met with the literary agent in the dining car but, given his suspicions of the kid, wouldn't it have made sense to inform us of this new development?

Maybe the germaphobe's hands weren't quite as clean as he'd like people to believe.

I shivered, suddenly very glad Pavlik had suggested I camp out in the sleeping car, even if its only other occupant was a corpse. Or maybe because of that.

Moving the stool out of the way, I decided the best place to sit was with my back against the wall of the roomette across the narrow corridor from Potter's – this despite the nasty smells not quite contained inside. But this way, at least, I could comfortably keep a peripheral eye on that door as well as the outside exit and the doors leading to the passenger car.

But first …

Gun ready in my hand, I slid open the door across from Potter's, clearing that roomette as Pavlik and Boyce had.