Loco Motive (24 page)

“We should be leaving in about fifteen minutes,” she informed Judith. “I hope so. It must be down into the low twenties around here.” Jax helped Judith into the train. “I saw you admiring the bird over the station door. Cute, isn't it?”

“Cute?” The description didn't fit Judith's reaction. “How do you mean?”

“The story is that when the old Great Northern Railway was built, this had to be one of the stops, but it had no name,” Jax explained. “So somebody in the main office closed his eyes, spun a globe, and pointed. His finger landed on Malta—the island in the Mediterranean. Years later, somebody carved that bird and put it over the station door.” She shrugged. “I've always thought it was cute. Or maybe clever?”

“Ah.” Judith tried to smile, but her face felt stiff. “Yes, it's clever.” The shiver that crept along her spine had less to do with the cold than with a sudden apprehension. In both book and film, the Maltese Falcon had led to multiple murders in a case so complicated that even Sam Spade was baffled. If seeing the bird was an omen, Judith hoped it wasn't meant for her.

Renie was standing by the luggage rack. “You're still alive,” she said. “That's good.”

“Have you been spying on me?” Judith asked, exasperated.

“I'm an adult.”

“A risk-taking adult. I worry.” Renie turned toward the stairs.

“Let's relax and have a drink. You go first. I'm watching your back.”

When they got to their compartment, Judith stopped. “Wait. I want to see something.” She kept moving and opened the door to the Kloppenburgs' sleeper.

Renie followed Judith inside. “I should've known. What are we looking for?”

“I'm not sure. Lock the door and start with the storage cabinet,” Judith said, checking out the bathroom. “What's odd about this compartment?”

Renie looked around. “It's very tidy. I saw Mr. Kloppenburg with a couple of suitcases. Maybe he needs to keep busy in a crisis.”

Judith shook her head. “It's too tidy. He had luggage, but there wasn't time to be this thorough. If you had a heart attack, would Bill have the presence of mind to pack everything and make sure he didn't leave any items behind?”

“That'd depend on whether or not he and Oscar took their eyes off the TV long enough to notice that I was on the floor fighting for my life.”

“You have a point,” Judith conceded, wondering if Joe would react any differently—unless by accident, her collapse had knocked the remote out of his hand. “How do I pull the bed down?”

Renie stared at the top bunk that was tucked against the ceiling. “I think you press that buttonlike thingy. Want some help?”

“No,” Judith said. “I don't want you dislocating your shoulder. What about the storage space?”

“Nada,” Renie replied. “The trash is…trash, and not much of it.”

“I wonder how recently it was emptied. We should check those bins in the corridor,” Judith said as she opened the bunk. “Ooof!”

“You okay?”

“Yes. It's heavier than I thought.” She carefully lowered the bunk. “There's bedding, but no pillows. Are they in the storage unit?”

“Yes, but I didn't take them out,” Renie said. “Maybe I should. There might be something written in code on them. Gosh, I wish I still had my Jack Armstrong decoder ring from the old radio show.”

“Why? The only message you could get was ‘Eat Wheaties.'”

“Right,” Renie agreed, tugging at the pillows, “and I couldn't do that because I was allergic to wheat along with…well, well!”

Judith turned around. “What?”

Renie held up one of the pillows for Judith's inspection. “Blood?”

Judith studied the brownish spots at the pillowcase's edge. “Could be. But whose?” She shrugged. “Pull off the pillowcase for a…souvenir.”

Renie shot Judith a sly glance. “Or evidence?”

“Maybe.” She closed the top bunk. “Skip the lower berth. Let's go.”

“Want me to go through the trash bins?” Renie asked.

“Okay,” Judith said, entering the corridor. “I'll ditch the pillowcase.” She saw Matt come out of his roomette. “Go downstairs,” she murmured to Renie.

The cousins were on the same wavelength. “Got it,” Renie said under her breath, and headed for the steps.

“How's Laurie?” Judith asked, tucking the pillowcase under her arm. “She gave us a scare.”

“She'll be fine,” Matt replied, closing the door behind him.

“I'm getting her some juice from the bar car. Laurie's high-strung.”

Judith nodded. “I understand. Will Mrs. Kloppenburg be okay?”

“She should be.” Matt seemed noncommittal. “Her husband insisted she should be hospitalized. They'll run some tests and keep her overnight for observation. If they don't find anything serious, the Kloppenburgs can catch the next Empire Builder tomorrow.”

“Was she ill when they came on board?” Judith inquired.

“Apparently not,” Matt responded. “I'd better go. I don't want Laurie to get dehydrated.” He smiled faintly before moving on.

Judith was musing on both the Chans and the Kloppenburgs when her cousin's voice startled her. “That was a washout.”

“The bins?” Judith turned as Renie reached the top of the stairs.

“There's only one and it was almost empty. I'll check the two on this level.” Renie started off to the other end of the car, but had to step aside for a small, older man who seemed lost inside a red-and-black hunting jacket with a matching cap that had earflaps sticking almost straight out from his head. Judith watched with curiosity as the newcomer spoke to Renie. After a brief exchange, the man moved stealthily toward her, as if he were stalking prey in the forest. Renie, looking puzzled, followed him.

“Judith Anne Grover McMonigle Flynn?” he said in a deep rumbling voice that contrasted with his slight frame.

“Yes?”

The man reached inside his jacket and removed a white envelope. “You've been served,” he said. Without another word, he turned on his heel, almost collided with Renie, and moved back down the corridor.

“What was that all about?” Renie demanded.

Judith opened the envelope, scanned the first page, and found herself speechless. Renie waited a moment before snatching the papers and envelope from her cousin. “Oh, no!” she cried. “You're being sued!”

“Got to sit,” Judith murmured. On feet that felt as if they were encased in cement, she plodded into their compartment.

“Pepper,” she said, collapsing into the chair. “Damn!”

Engrossed in her reading, Renie misjudged her chair's location. “Oops!” She grabbed at the table to regain her balance. “How much?”

“I didn't get that far,” Judith said, taking the small bottle of Scotch from her pocket and almost draining it in a single gulp. She winced, choked, and leaned back in the chair.

“I didn't think she was serious.”

“Do you want to read the rest?” Renie asked.

“You do it. I'm tapped. How much?”

Flipping through the pages, Renie found the sum. “Thirty million bucks for causing the death of Wilbur Kermit Weevil? That's…insane!”

Judith rocked back in her chair. “What?”

Renie shook herself. “This is ridiculous. It's time to call Bub.” Judith didn't bother reading the lengthy description. “Don't involve your brother-in-law yet,” she said. “I can't believe this. What's the date on it?”

Renie looked at the last page. “November first. It's been filed, so it had to be earlier today.”

“Hold on. Who's suing me?”

“You said it was Pepper. Isn't she really Dorothy May Gundy?”

“That's what we heard. I don't understand. She's on this train. How could…did she sign it anywhere?”

“I can't read the signature,” Renie replied, “but it's not hers—too short. Somebody else filed this on her behalf. Maybe it was a lawyer or a proxy in Malta. It's the county seat, so there's a courthouse. I don't know the actual process.”

“I don't either.” Judith downed the last sip of Scotch. “Let's find her. Was she in the club car?”

“I didn't see her when I was down there,” Renie replied. “It was really crowded. She could've been in the dome car upstairs or even the dining car. They're serving late because of the extra customers who got bored sitting on their dead butts in Scuttle. Anyway, Sharon was in the lead and she's a fast walker.”

Judith stood up, took off her jacket, stashed the pillowcase in her carry-on, and put the lawsuit filing in her purse. “Let's go.”

“Are we armed?” Renie asked, following Judith into the corridor.

“No, but we're dangerous,” Judith retorted. “It'd help if you'd get mad. Then we could be almost lethal.”

“I'll work on it,” Renie promised.

When they got to the end of the sleeper, Judith saw the trash bins. “Let's check those out while we have the chance. Maybe you'll find something infuriating as you dig and delve.”

“You think I'd put my hand in one of those things? Downstairs I pulled out the liner bag and shook it so I could get an idea of what was inside. I'd advise you to do the same.”

“Good thinking,” Judith agreed.

Before the cousins could begin their task, Wayne Fielding entered the car. He took one stunned look at Judith and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“What?” Judith demanded. “You didn't know I was on board?”

“I…” Wayne swiped at his fair hair with one hand. “No.” He glanced at Renie. “I've seen her before. You're traveling together?”

“Yes,” Judith said. “Mrs. Jones is my cousin.”

“Oh.” Wayne regained his composure. “That's a coincidence.”

“What is?” Renie asked. “That we're cousins? That we're both on a train? Or that you and your fellow travelers decided at the last minute to leave town on the same eastbound Empire Builder I'd already booked?”

“No, no.” Wayne made a feeble attempt to smile. “It's just a—” He stopped, apparently searching for the right word.

“Coincidence,” Judith finished for him. “Skip it. Where's Pepper?”

The question seemed to freeze Wayne. “I'm not sure.”

“You can do better than that,” Judith said, fists on hips. “Don't act dumb. You must know she's filed a lawsuit against me.”

Wayne's stunned expression appeared genuine. “No. Is it true?”

“Would I kid about that?” Judith demanded. “Where is she?”

“I don't know,” he insisted. “She was in the dome car earlier, but when I came up from the club car, she was gone. Did you try the accessible bedroom?”

“Not lately,” Judith replied with a straight face. “In fact, when we tried to see her, she wasn't there.”

“Maybe she is now,” Wayne said, increasingly ill at ease.

“Pepper could've gotten out from a different car and returned later to the sleeper.”

“Perhaps.” It also occurred to Judith that Pepper could have gotten off and not come back at all. “We'll try again.”

Wayne went on his way, presumably to the sleeper's lower level. “Is he lying about Pepper moving on and off the train?” Renie asked.

“Off, yes—on, no. Maybe.” Judith's voice betrayed her frustration. “If she's not aboard, we don't have much time to find her in Malta or we'll get left behind. After we leave, how long will it take to get to Wolf Point?”

“I think there's a stop in between…a Scottish name like Aberdeen or Dundee or…Glasgow. That's it.” Renie looked
pleased with herself. “As I recall, it should take an hour or so to get to Wolf Point, the last stop before North Dakota, where we set our watches back an hour.”

“Back?”

“Yes, they're…” Renie made a disgusted face. “Right. We set them ahead. Most of the Midwest is on central standard time, not central day—”

“Stop! You're driving me nuts. I get it.”

Renie scowled. “I'm trying to make sure I'm in the right time zone.” She pulled out a plastic bag and shook it vigorously. “I have to deal with a bunch of morons' half-assed attempts to tell God and Mother Nature they didn't know what they were doing when it comes to the sun, moon, and stars. If it's true that daylight saving time started to help farmers…or the war industry…or to save energy…” She paused, studying the third bag she'd taken from the waste bin. “The original idea was Ben Franklin's. In his old age in Paris, he partied into the night, so he wrote a whimsical piece on why we should have more sun in the evening so he wouldn't miss several hours of daylight. I understand the concept, but it's even more impractical than the one-hour change. Years ago, the Twin Cities were on different times. St. Paul went to daylight saving, Minneapolis didn't. Confusion ensued for the dysfunctional twins.”

“Fascinating,” Judith said drily. “Did you see anything odd in this junk?”

“No. This is a perfect example of wasting, not saving, time.”

“True,” Judith agreed. “Let's find Pepper.”

Renie groaned, but trudged behind Judith to the dining car, where only a handful of passengers were still eating. The waiters, including Earl, seemed to be moving in slow motion.

Judith stopped at the serving area, where Earl was picking up bowls of ice cream. “A long day,” she noted. “I sympathize. You must feel jinxed.”

Earl's dark eyes were sad. “It's not just the delays and the extra work—we get used to that. It's Roy's disappearance that's got us
down. We get like family after a while. His going off like that isn't right. I keep thinking I'm going to see him walk through here and cheer us up. He was always upbeat, that cheerful kind of brother, and I don't mean just for black folks. Roy was color-blind about race, but those eyes of his took in plenty. He was the noticing kind. He could tell when somebody was down or sickly by just looking at them. Excuse me, Mrs. Flynn, I'd better deliver this ice cream before it melts.”