The Train (12 page)

    Finally, the thought of Mack and Lewis waiting stabbed her with guilt. Sighing, she turned off the water. Kerry's shower was still going strong.Hannah fumbled for her towel.

    It wasn't hanging on the door where she thought she'd put it.

    "Hey, Jean Marie," she called, swiping at the water running down her cheeks, "grab my towel, will you? I think I left it on that little bench over there."

    There was no answer. How could anyone hear anything over the thundering rush of Kerry's shower water?

    Hannah raised her voice. "Jean Marie? Are you out there?"

    Nothing.

    She must have already left to join Lewis and Mack. How could someone who always looked so together dress that quickly?

    Mumbling under her breath, Hannah left the cubicle and found her towel and her clothes. Drying and dressing quickly, turbanning her hair in the damp towel, she yelled at Kerry to "get a move on" and pulled the door open.

    Mack and Lewis were talking to Eugene. When they spotted Hannah, they moved forward eagerly. Eugene left abruptly, as ff he was trying to avoid Hannah.

    "Finally!" Lewis exclaimed, "now we can go eat." He patted his stomach. "Where's Kerry?"

    "Still in the shower." Hannah's eyes surveyed the corridor. "Where'd Jean Marie go?"

    Mack and Lewis exchanged confused glances. Mack spoke first. "Jean Marie? She didn't go anywhere. We haven't seen her."Hannah tilted her head. "Very funny. Now, where is she? If she's hiding and a was your idea, your sense of humor is sick. It's not funny."

    Mack took a 'step forward. "Hannah, Jean Marie didn't come out here. She must still be in the shower."

    Hannah jolted upright and sucked in her breath. "You're not kidding, are you? She really didn't come out here?"

    He shook his head. Lewis did the same.

    "But… but she's not in here with us." Hannah glanced over her shoulder, into the shower room. "She's not. And there's… there's no place to hide in here. My cubicle and Jean Marie's are empty and Kerry's still in hers."

    "Hannah!" Kerry shrieked, "do you have the door open? I can feel cold air. Cut it out!"

    "Wait a sec," Hannah told the boys, closing the shower room door. "Jean Marie?" she called, although it was quite clear there was no place to hide in the tiny room. It held no secret niches, no roomy nooks and crannies. Besides the three skinny cubicles, there was only a small white bench sitting in the middle of the room.

    When Hannah said the name again, her voice came out*in* little more than a tremulous whisper. "Jean Marie?"

    There was no answer.

    There was only the constant drumming of a steady stream of water pulsating from Kerry's shower head.

    

    

    

    A crowd gathered in the corridor outside the shower room as the railroad detective checked things out. Kerry, her brows knitted in worry, absentmindedly rubbed her wet hair with a towel. Lewis paced, swinging his arms back and forth impatiently. Hannah and Mack stood quietly together, his arm around her shoulders, her face drawn and white.

    "Your friend's playing a joke on you," Mr. Tesch said when he came out. He was smiling. "C'mere, I'll show you."

    They followed him back inside.

    He stood in the center of the small room, pointing upward. "See those plastic panels up there?" He climbed up on the bench under the light, reached up and easily slid one of the lightweight panels sideways, revealing a large opening. "They're very lightweight," he said. "Slide in and out in a minute. The ducts up here lead all over the train. Your friend climbed up there and probably came down somewhere else, maybe in one of the compartments."

    "No," Hannah said. "She wouldn't do that. Jean Marie wouldn't. Not ever, but especially not now. She would never scare us like this."

    To her surprise, the detective took her seriously. "No? Doesn't have that kind of sense of humor?"

    "No. She wouldn't think that was funny, worrying us. If she went up there, and I guess she must have, it was because someone made her do it."

    The detective left the bench. "You hear anything while you were in the shower? Sounds of a struggle?"

    Hannah shook her head. "No. Too much water running. I only heard Jean Marie's shower door click shut, that's all."

    The man frowned. "Seems like you'd have heard someone pushing or pulling your friend up through the ceiling."

    Not if she was unconscious, was Hannah's immediate reaction. "No one heard me," she said, "when I was being dragged to the baggage car. Whoever grabbed me made sure of that. He could have done the same thing to Jean Marie… covered her mouth so she couldn't make a sound."

    He nodded. "Good point. All right, we'll get on it right away. Give me a description of the missing girl. And I want all of you to return to your compartments and stay there until I get back to you, okay?"

    "We want to help look," Lewis said. "She's our friend. We can't just sit around and wait."

    After giving that some thought, the detective nodded. "Fair enough. Divide up into groups and stay together, I insist on that. And get back to me if you see or hear anything. We'll find your friend, don't you worry."

    When he had hurried away, Mack took charge, dividing the Parker High students into seven groups of four people each. "Spread out," he ordered. "Everybody take a different car. Wherever you find one of those ceiling panels, check that first. Climb up on something, lift the panel, and check it out. If you see anything you think you shouldn't, find Tesch and tell him."

    Eugene was nowhere to be seen, but Dale asked, "So, if we find her, do we get a reward?" He grinned slyly. "Like maybe a date with the damsel in distress after we rescue her?"

    Some people laughed, others tittered in embarrassment for Dale.

    Everyone knew Jean Marie Westlake wouldn't be caught dead in the company of Dale Sutterworth, any more than she would have in Frog's company.

    Hannah gasped at that thought. Caught dead? That no longer seemed like a harmless expression.

    The search began.

    Hannah pushed the wet hair back from her forehead as their group headed for the Observation Lounge to check it out. Kerry's hair was plastered down her back and had already soaked through her blouse. But she uttered not one word of complaint as they hurried through the cars.

    Atta girl, Kerry, Hannah thought.

    The Observation Lounge, all glass and sunshine, was as empty as it had been when they awakened that morning. Everyone was out looking for Jean Marie.

    Because the ceiling was mostly glass, there were no panels to check.

    "Waste of time," Lewis muttered as they turned to leave. "Should have skipped this car." They all nodded in agreement, but at that very instant, a shrill scream split the air over their heads.

    They stopped, frozen in their tracks.

    Suddenly, a bright blur of hot pink sailed past the window in front of them, arcing downward like an arrow aimed at the ground, and disappeared.

    Instinctively, Hannah's gaze shot to the ceiling glass and for just one tiny split-second, she thought she saw a movement overhead… the heel of a boot? Then it was gone, and there was nothing.

    "What was that?" Lewis asked. "Something fell off the roof?"

    Kerry turned to Hannah, her dark eyes fearful. "Pink…" she stammered, barely managing to squeeze out the words. "That pink… Jean Marie's robe…"

    Hannah sucked in her breath. Jean Marie? No…

    "We don't know that was her," Lewis said nervously, peering out the window.

    Hannah stood up. "We can't wait to be sure," she said, her lips trembling. "The train's going too fast. We'll get too far away…"

    Without hesitation, her arm shot up and her hand closed around the emergency cord overhead. She yanked with great force.

    Their ears rang with the agonizingly long, drawnout scream of the train's wheels. After what seemed like an eternity, the train slowed and came to an angry halt.

    

    

    

    Hannah and her friends sat like statues, scarcely breathing, in the Observation Lounge where Ms. Quick had ordered them to wait for word on Jean Marie.

    "I'm sure it wasn't her," she had said emphatically. "Maybe it was a scarf you saw, or even a newspaper blown by the wind."

    A newspaper? A pink newspaper? Hannah shrank back against the seat then, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming, Just go find out! Hurry! Come back and tell me it wasn't Jean Marie, that she wasn't tossed off the roof of this train, tell me that! That's all I want to hear.

    But when Ms. Quick returned, the conductor at her side, their faces told the story.

    "I'm sorry," the teacher said softly, "I'm so sorry. Jean Marie is… is…" She couldn't continue.

    Kerry screamed and Hannah's eyes filled with tears and the boys sat in mute disbelief, their hands in their laps.

    "Mr. Dobbs is leaving the train now," Ms. Quick added gently. "An ambulance is coming for… for Jean Marie, and he'll be going with it. We can't turn the train around, so we'll be going on to California. Those of you who want to leave the tour upon our arrival in San Francisco this afternoon may do so. The school is arranging plane transportation for anyone who wants it."

    "And the detective?" Kerry asked bitterly, tears streaming down her cheeks, "what is he doing about this? I thought he came on the train to keep stuff like this from happening. Where was he when Jean Marie was thrown from the train?"

    "Still looking for her. But none of us thought to look outside the train. Whoever did this must have taken Jean Marie up through the panels in the shower room and onto the roof of the train. He's on his way here now to ask you all a few more questions. I'd appreciate it if you'd be as helpful as possible."

    Hannah could stand no more. Jumping up, she brushed past the adults and ran from the car. When Mack cried out at her to wait for him, she ignored his shout and kept going.

    She ran all the way to the compartment. Sobs of grief and cries of anger rang from behind closed doors. The news about Jean Marie had spread quickly. But Hannah did not stop to talk to anyone. She needed desperately to be alone.

    The compartment that had seemed so frightening yesterday - was that only yesterday? - seemed now warm and welcoming and private, so private. Let Mack and Lewis and Kerry answer Mr. Tesch'squestions. She, for one, had no answers. None at all.

    The very second they arrived in San Francisco, she was going to board a plane to Chicago, even if she was the only one who did.

    I should have gone back when the train wheels told me to, she thought. I didn't listen, and I've been sorry ever since.

    As Hannah reached her compartment, the train began moving again, quickly picking up speed, leaving behind the sound of the mournful ambulance wail as it arrived on the scene.

    I will never see Jean Marie again, Hannah thought, and fresh tears filled her eyes.

    When she opened the door, the compartment was dark, the window shade still pulled down from the day before. Hannah took a few steps and yanked the shade upward.

    "Hello, Hannah," a voice said from behind her. "I thought you'd never get here."

    

    

    

    Hannah gasped and whirled, her back against the window, to find herself facing Lolly Slocum. She was dressed in boy's clothes - jeans, cowboy boots, plaid shirt and denim jacket - an outfit Frog had often worn. Her lank blonde hair was hidden under a worn felt cowboy hat.

    She leaned against the door and smiled. "Hi, Hannah, how's it going? Not too well, I guess." She clucked her tongue sympathetically. "Too bad."

    Hannah found her voice. "Lolly? You scared me half to death! What are you doing here? I thought you went home…"

    "Went home?" The cowboy hat swung from side to side. "Not really. I told that idiot doctor I had motion sickness really bad. She was afraid I'd barf on her shiny black doctor's bag, so she found me a sleeping car and stashed me in a compartment and left me there. Or so she thought. Said she'd be back to check on me, but if she ever did come back, I was long gone. I just walked off that train and got back on this one. No problem." Then she added, in a confidential tone of voice, "I think that bag of hers was real leather, Hannah. Very fancy-schmancy."

    Confused, Hannah frowned. "But… Ms. Quick heard from your family. They said you got back to Chicago okay."

    "I sent that message myself, you twit!"

    "You… you've been on the train this whole time? No… someone would have seen you."

    "No one saw me because I didn't want them to. Not even Dale and Eugene. It would have spoiled everything." Lolly shrugged. "There are plenty of places to hide on this train."

    Hannah's frown deepened, but along with her confusion a new feeling began to stir - an uneasiness, as if she were stepping up to the edge of a cliff and didn't dare look down for fear of getting dizzy. "You got back on the train but didn't tell anyone? You were… you were hiding?"

    Lolly nodded and smirked with satisfaction. "Those ceiling panels in the shower room?"

    Hannah thought of Jean Marie, and felt sick. "What about them?"

    "They're in every rest room. Along with one of those little benches for people who are old or tired and have trouble bending to tie their shoes. Those benches are great for standing on to move the ceiling panel back, and then it's a cinch to hoist yourself up into the crawl space. It's not bad up there, not bad at all."