February Fever (20 page)

Forty-Eight

The man who I'd
known as Emilio Ramos and Aimee's dad stood there. He looked more startled to see me than me to see him. He also looked different. It took me a moment to realize it was his hair color. It had been dark before. It was blond now, at least the parts of it sticking out of his ski cap. The brassy color did not complement his olive skin tone.

He snatched Mr. Bunny out of my hand. His mouth opened and then closed, drawing attention to the complete hairlessness of his face. The rest of him looked haggard, but he had made time to shave? I couldn't read his expression, but I didn't feel like I was in danger. And then he was gone.

He'd come for Aimee's bunny. That meant he was with her, and he was probably taking care of her. He knew where she was. I took off after the man, watching his shadow slip down the stairs. I might have caught him if the train hadn't picked that moment to lurch forward with such force that I was thrown from my feet, cracking my head against the stairwell and creating blue color blitzes in front of my eyes. What was going on? I stayed still for a moment, tasting my pain, before I pulled myself to my feet. I limped gingerly down the stairs, holding my head with my hands, wondering if I was imagining the cheering and the fact that it felt like the train was actually moving.

Another lurch confirmed it: the train was in motion. Fortunately I grabbed a railing this time and didn't fall. By the time I reached the lower landing, there was no sign of the man with Aimee's bunny. I stuck my head inside the nearest cabin.

“Did you see a man just come down here?”

The pair of men inside smiled back at me. “
Ja
.”

“Do you speak English?”

“
Nein
,” they said apologetically.

I went to the next cabin and got the same answer, though in English. Everyone was too busy chattering about the train moving to have noticed anything else. The air held the feeling of a giant festival, a mix of celebration and anticipation. I could go forward, or I could go backward, or I could stay in place and search the car I was presently in. Each option had pros and cons.

The train gave another careening pitch. We all grabbed something solid near us. The train was either being pushed or pulled, and it wasn't smooth sailing. Given what I knew about driving a car out of a snowbank, I figured that once we got free of the snow that had been hardpacked around the track, we'd cruise smoothly. Until then, we were in for a bumpy ride.

And I needed to find Aimee before we reached our next stop. Reed and whoever he was working with would be desperately trying to locate her before she disappeared for good, or worse, went to the police with what she knew. I wondered why she hadn't talked to them back at Glendive. But of course she was so young and as she said, she hadn't known whom to trust. Well, I needed to figure out who was on my team, and quick, because I couldn't search this whole train alone. Mrs. Berns, Jed, Chad, and Terry could all be trusted. With five of us looking, it would go faster.

Mrs. Berns still wasn't back, Chad's cabin was empty, and Jed and his girlfriend weren't in their seats. That meant I didn't find the first of my posse until the viewing car. Terry, a little red seeping through the bandage on his neck, was nursing a gin and tonic as people were partying around him, jumping on furniture, beating their chests like Tarzan, and generally acting in a way that I hoped embarrassed them tomorrow.

“Terry! Have you seen Mrs. Berns or Jed?”

He shook his head and quietly sipped his drink. A bra flew through the air like a slingshot, followed by a matching set of panties.

“I need your help. Okay? I think that girl, Aimee, is still on the train. I think she's in danger, and I think whoever wants her is the person who attacked you. Terry? Are you listening? I think I know where the girl is.”

And I really thought I did. I had pieced together all my sightings of her, and they all happened in the back half of the train. She, and the man she was with, also managed to disappear like smoke when they were on the lower level. The lower level train cars all housed cupboards lining their walls, similar to the ones in the storage car, and I had a hunch they all led back to that car, meeting up with those master cupboards to form a train-length ventilation system.

But Terry was not interested. He was the picture of calmness, a bulky ship standing firm in the storm. “Good luck with that.”

“Please! Just come look with me. If she's there, great. If she's not, what have you wasted?”

“My time, if I'm lucky. More likely, my skin.” He pointed at the patch of red staining his bandage and growing like a flower. “You see this? It was fine until the train started swaying like a drunk. That's my throat. Someone tried to slice my
throat
.”

“Yeah, I get it. And that someone is still on this train. Do you want
them
to get Aimee?”

He shrugged.

It was all I could do not to yank at his hair. How could he not care? That more than anything told me he wasn't a DEA agent. He really was just a punk private investigator, maybe a cop in the previous life, for sure a pot-thieving scaredy pants now. So I'd meet him at his level.

“Think of all the publicity we'd get if we cracked this case.”

He sat up a little straighter. A woman wove through the car with a crying baby, the smell of old diaper wafting behind them.

“That'd drive up some good business,” I continued. “Besides, I know for a fact there's weed hidden in that back car.”

He looked at me dead on now. “How do you know that?”

“You'll have to come and see. Come on. Please?”

My pleading was drowned out by an uproarious cheer as our train stopped the careening and began
chug-chugging
forward like it'd never stopped. Beads of sweat broke out on my face. It was now or never. I pulled Terry's hand, ignoring his protests.

I led him through the crowd. After we made it through two cars, he stopped protesting, and I stepped back so he could lead the way. We were in Roomette Car 10 when the announcement came on, James Christmas sounding perkier than he had the entire ride.

“As you are likely aware, the snowcutter successfully reached us.
They have cleared the entire track from our location to Coeur
d'Alene. We should reach that stop in approximately forty-five minutes.” The cheers were truly deafening this time. All around us,
people hugged and high-fived. Terry burrowed forward, head down, shielding his neck.

Chad was nowhere to be seen. Same with Mrs. Berns and Ms. Wrenshall. We passed Doghn's cabin. His door was closed. I wasn't certain whose team he was on, so I didn't slow, even though Terry stopped to toss me a questioning glance.

We were in the second-to-last car, the storage car where I was certain Aimee and the man were hiding, when Terry next spoke.

“You don't think Doghn can help us?”

I appreciated him waiting until we were past Doghn's car to ask. “I'm not sure about him. Same with Reed, that first porter you interviewed. There's something off about both of them.”

Terry chuckled. “You're certainly suspicious enough to be a PI. I don't know about Reed, but I can tell you Doghn is not a bad guy. A little puffy, for sure, but he's decent.”

Terry might think differently if I told him about the wrist twisting and Doghn's false info about Sofia. But really, what did I care what Terry thought of Doghn? I needed Terry's help finding Aimee, and then I'd never have to see either of these other PIs again.

“I think they're in one of these,” I said, pitching my voice low. I pointed at the cupboards lining the walls, behind the racks of luggage. If Aimee and the guy she was with knew I was close, they'd run and hide again.

Terry wordlessly tucked in closer, understanding my need for caution. We opened the first cupboard together. I was validated to find that it was three feet deep and as high as the train car. Definitely enough room for people to hide in, though this one was full to the top with luggage. I stood on tippy-toes so I was taller than the luggage, stuck my head into the cupboard, and peered to the right. A glimmer of light leaked through, suggesting that a person could in fact travel from one length of the car to the other, unseen, inside these cupboards.

We moved to the next, pushing aside luggage to access it. This one was less full than the previous, but there were still no signs of anyone hiding.

“You know,” Terry said, “it's amazing what someone will do to get away from the mob.”

I nodded. It was true. Why hadn't Aimee and her mom just gone into the witness relocation program? I suppose if you trust no one, you trust no one. My hand was reaching toward the third cupboard when a thought niggled at me.

Trust no one.

It made sense if the mob was chasing you. So why were the words suddenly resonating, even as I slid the panel open, revealing the contents of the cupboard? This one also contained luggage, but it was pushed to the side.

A woman and a child were huddling in the middle.

Forty-Nine

The thoughts collided like
cars, resounding painfully in my head:

I only had Terry's word that he'd boarded in Fargo.

The ticket stub from Chicago in his duffel.

Terry giving Jed the heebie-jeebies.

Me never, ever telling Terry about the mob.

Then, in the moment of silence right before it becomes terror and pain, everything clicked. Doghn had not lied about Sofia Ramos. She likely
had
been a childless housekeeper in Brooklyn, and she had been poisoned in the cabin next door to me. She had been
posing
as Dana Alvarez, so Dana could pose as a man and further protect herself and her daughter. I didn't know what their relationship had been—sisters? Some bond deep enough for Sofia to risk and then give her life so Dana could escape with Aimee, one step ahead of the mob.

Except not now, because I had brought the devil to their doorstep. They stood in the cupboard, Aimee holding Mr. Bunny and a now-undisguised Dana holding Aimee, their faces pure masks of terror.

Slicing his own neck must have taken a sick, incredible act of bravery, but it had thrown the heat off of him, at least as far I was concerned. The ruse that he didn't care where Aimee had been hidden was a nice touch, as well. But he'd blown it all by letting on he knew about the mob connection. My only hope in saving Dana and Aimee from my blunder now was in pretending I didn't know Terry was the bad guy.

“Aimee!” I tried to make my voice sound excited, but I couldn't hide the quaver. Terry's eyes zeroed in on me, and they were as flat as bits of coal. He knew.

He reached for his waistband.

I saw a flash of silver.

Aimee screamed.

I punched Terry's throat. Blood began to flow freely.

“Run!”

But the woman and girl couldn't run. Terry had one hand over his throat, the other holding a gun trained on Dana. I shoved him, and we both fell to the floor. He was a big guy, though, and he had the advantage. He picked me up like a rag doll, kicked at the exit door to open it, and brought me into the bladder separating the cars. Aimee and Dana were trapped behind us, and I was about to be erased.

The train was now traveling at normal speed, and apparently we were rounding curves, because Terry's footing was uneven. He almost lost his balance twice. Shoving his gun into his waistband, he pulled the emergency exit cord. A whole panel of the bladder fell away, revealing mountains close enough to touch.

I gasped at the icy chill of the air, and the terror of how fast we were moving. My hair blew back from my face, and the wind sliced at my skin. One easy toss, and I'd be out of the train. If I was lucky I'd survive the fall, making it a toss-up whether I'd bleed or freeze to death first. The skinned-alive feeling of absolute terror consumed me.

I kicked and screamed with everything I had. Except it didn't do any good. Terry had gone into the no-pain zone. He lifted me in the air. He propelled me forward. His arms twitched as he flexed.

And then, in a flash, we were both thrown to the floor as a force struck Terry.

“Mira!”

It was Jed. I was so relieved I could cry, but that emotion quickly turned to horror as Terry roared to his feet, slamming Jed against the opposite wall of the narrow space. His head made a sickening cracking sound before he melted to the floor. Jed lay limp as a doll, unconscious. I jumped on Terry's back, digging my fingers into the open wound at his throat. He gurgled, and I dug deeper.

Outside, the quality of the light changed. Rather than mountains, we were in space, a limitless blue sky on the other side. Terry picked up my friend. Jed's eyes were closed, a trickle of blood leaking from his temple. His beautiful brown curly hair was matted with red. It was excruciating to see his face, normally so full of joy and openness, so pale and motionless. I needed to get to him. I needed to see if he was still alive.

I ground a finger into Terry's eye, but he continued into the open area where the diaphragm had been, the icy winter air rushing around him, the mountains fallen away, leaving only a vast, empty space. The train lurched, but he didn't lose his balance.

He tossed Jed into the endless blue.

Fifty

I opened my mouth
and screamed from my deepest place, but no sound came out. Terry grabbed my throat from behind and squeezed. His hands were unforgiving chunks of meat, and none of my squirming would release me. I gasped for breath, unable to scream, my heart pounding against my lungs, both threatening to burst. Grunting, he tightened his grip until all the fight drained out of me. My vision narrowed, black closing in, until it was just a pinprick, and still, I couldn't fight back.

Jed was dead because of me.

I heard rather than felt my body drop to the ground with a thump, near the edge of the train but not quite over. Below, a valley stretched out for miles. The winter wind flayed the skin from my bones. I wanted to grab at something solid, but my hands weren't listening to me.

From the sideways position, I watched the door to the storage car slide open and Terry's boots clomp toward Dana and Aimee. He was either swaying treacherously, or I was losing consciousness. The train swayed again, tossing a piece of luggage to the floor. It missed my head by inches, falling outside and into space. The door could not close. Was that blood on Terry's boots? Did it matter?

Yes. Yes it did. Because it meant he was hurt.

I screamed again, my yell silent, but it was enough. My vision expanded, at least partially, and I pushed myself to my knees. I put a hand to the wall. The cold winter air rushed over me, seeking me, wanting to lure me into the freezing wilderness with Jed. I looked toward it. The endless blue was still out there. The mountain valley we were traveling over must go on for miles. My heart cried for my friend, but my head didn't have the luxury.

I grabbed at a pipe to pull myself to standing. It came free in my hand, likely loosened when Terry or I had fallen against it. Lurching with the train, I pushed forward. Terry had his back to me. He was training his gun on Aimee and Dana with one hand and trying to wrap his coat around his neck to stop the bleeding with the other. Once he got that under control, he would pull the trigger.

That was his plan anyhow.

Mine went more like this:

I swung that pipe with the strength of everyone I'd ever loved, and everyone who'd been taken from me before their time. It whistled through the air like the song of justice.

When it connected with the back of his skull, the melon-popping sound was almost as satisfying as the crunchy, wet feel of it sinking into his brain. Terry fell to his knees and then straight back.

But he wasn't dead. He was breathing. Jed wasn't breathing. He was dead. I held the pipe over my head. I thought of bringing it down on Terry's face. I thought of pulling Terry's unconscious body to the edge and tossing it over.

You know what stopped me?

Jed was out there. He was on the other side. And no goddamned way was I going to let this bastard be with my precious Jed.