Murder on the Orient Espresso (23 page)

I sniffed my armpit. ‘I'm not sure that's possible, but I'll do my best.'

Pavlik laughed.

But I put my hand on his forearm. ‘Are you sure we should venture off our little … island instead of just waiting for help?'

‘I'm not sure we have a choice, but we'll talk about it before I decide. For now, though, sleep. OK?'

As if I'd sleep. So I did the next best thing – found two open seats right behind Audra Edmonds and Rosemary Darlington.

‘Hello, ladies,' I said, slipping into the window seat behind Audra. ‘Don't let me bother you, I'm just taking a nap.'

‘No bother,' Rosemary said, getting up. ‘I'm grateful for the reprieve.'

‘Bitch,' Audra said to her back as the author retreated.

‘I take it Ms Darlington and you have some sort of … history?' I asked innocently, using Missy's word.

‘No,' Audra said pointedly, ‘but Rosemary and my husband did, much as she denies it.'

‘I know that Mr Potter mentored her,' I was using last names to create distance from the participants, ‘but are you saying they had something more?'

‘That's exactly what I'm saying.' Audra turned and put her back against the wall of the train, stretching her legs out across the seats before smoothing the handkerchief hem of her vintage dress. ‘The man is – was – the most calculating of cheaters.'

Edmonds managed to look bored. Amazing, given the subject and the fact that her philandering husband had rather recently also become her dead one. ‘You know that book of hers? That fount of smut?'

‘
Breaking and Entering
? I read Mr Potter's review of it on PotShots.'

Audra laughed. ‘Review, my ass. The man was just covering his.'

‘His ass, you mean?' I was confused. Again.

‘Of course. You know all those things the couple does in her book? Those are the very same things Larry had been suggesting we do.'

‘You mean in bed.'

‘No, in the grocery store.'

And Pavlik thought
I
was sarcastic. ‘You think he learned these … techniques from her?'

‘Where else? Let me tell you, a husband suddenly comes home with new ideas to spice up the spousal love life, you better believe he's probably learned it through recent extramarital experience. Larry, in particular, wasn't the type to read and follow self-help books. More the help-yourself category.'

I wasn't sure I could argue with Audra's logic, and I had to give her credit for a nice turn-of-phrase. ‘But weren't you and Mr Potter working on a book of your own?'

She snorted. ‘Larry's idea. Both Rosemary and he must have had so much fun, they couldn't wait to write about it afterward. He was just ticked that she dumped him and then got to it first.'

‘Hence the horrible review?'

‘What do you think?'

I wasn't sure what I thought. ‘Yet you and he were still intending to go ahead with your own … romantic novel?'

‘The only reason he wanted my name on the book was for the hook. It would be sort of a he-said, she-said. Or
did
, in this case.'

I suppressed a smile. ‘And did
you
?'

‘Do those things?' Audra exploded. ‘Of course not. Which is how I know the old dog learned those new tricks from a different bitch. And probably by going to that horrible club, as well.'

‘Titanium?'

She blinked. ‘Yes. But how did you know?'

‘The matches your husband was using.'

‘So you saw them, too?'

I didn't tell her I'd also found the empty matchbook on the floor near the door where he might have made his final exit. ‘I did. What kind of club is it?'

‘Leather. S&M. Swingers. All of the above, and mostly mixed together.'

‘You've been—?' I started to ask, but the look on her face was a conversation-stopper. ‘On another subject, I know Mr Potter seemed to be having some sort of dispute with that young man, Danny. Has he been bothering you, as well?'

‘You mean earlier tonight? Or I guess it would be last night, now.'

I nodded.

‘Honestly? Yes. He wanted to know when Larry came up with the concept for the book.'

I didn't want to mention Carson, so I said, ‘I heard Danny ask Mr Potter about the manuscript he sent him. Does he think your husband somehow stole his idea?'

‘Of course. As if “boy meets girl, boy does girl and then both do everybody else in sight” is a ground-breaking development in human sexuality.'

‘So you saw his manuscript?'

‘Whose?'

‘Danny's.'

‘No, of course not. How would I do that?'

‘I thought your husband might have showed it to you.'

‘Larry and I share very little these days, including a bed. And by my choice, before you ask.'

Interesting. Yet the woman had taken the trouble to ‘surprise' her guest-of-honor husband and seemed to have a considerable number of jealous bones in her body. A case of ‘if I can't have him, nobody will'?

I said, ‘You mentioned “boy meets girl,” et cetera as the idea Danny thought your husband stole. How did you know what his manuscript was about if you didn't see it?'

‘The naive boy told me about it, of course. In return for this stunning revelation, I assured him his ground-breaking concept was safe.' Audra Edmonds shrugged and closed her eyes, seeming to lose steam. ‘Believe me, Larry's book died with him.'

W
hen Boyce returned from outside, he insisted on re-taking the watch from Pavlik. The sheriff slipped into the aisle seat and put his arm around me.

I laid my head on his shoulder. ‘Did Boyce see anything out there when he drained the lizard?'

‘How you talk.' The sheriff nuzzled the side of my neck.

‘So, I've been thinking.' I pushed myself up to see over the back of Audra Edmonds' seat. The woman was snoring softly, mouth open. ‘Audra seems to be the most likely suspect in her husband's death, either alone or allied with Danny or even Carson.'

‘Danny I can wrap my head round, but Carson? What would his motive be?'

I'd thought about that. ‘He's in love with Audra and wanted Potter out of the way? Maybe there's a financial incentive for Audra to do away with Potter, rather than divorce him.'

‘There's always a financial incentive. Believe me, no one comes away from a divorce in better shape than they went into it.'

I could sure attest to that. Happily, other considerations – things like human decency and the law – kept us from knocking off our spouses. For the most part.

‘Audra just informed me that she's scrapping what she called “Larry's book,”' I told Pavlik. ‘But who knows? Maybe she's lying and fully intends to finish and publish it. Plus, Potter's dramatic “exit” will mean lots of publicity, with only the grieving widow and Carson left to rake in the profits.'

The sheriff opened his mouth to comment, but I was on a roll. ‘Audra and personal motives aside, maybe Carson had a pure business reason to knock off Potter – something to do with Danny's manuscript. Carson says Danny emailed him accusing Potter of stealing it, but perhaps he already knew what was going on. Larry could even have let him see the manuscript.'

‘So Carson killed Potter, his client and perhaps co-conspirator? Why? Better that they take Danny off the board.'

‘We know Potter turned to Rosemary to write for him once. Perhaps he wasn't a very good writer, but Carson got him the publishing deal thanks to his notoriety and profile. Then Carson read Danny's work and saw a promising young talent that could boost a literary agent's reputation and make him more money over time than Potter ever would have.'

‘Why not just represent both?'

‘I don't know enough about the book business to speculate.' Not that it stopped me, of course. ‘Some kind of conflict of interest? Threat of lawsuits because of … creative jealousy? Writers rage?'

Pavlik ignored that. ‘I honestly don't see Carson stabbing somebody to death, no matter which somebody. The man doesn't like to get his hands dirty, remember.'

‘Maybe that's just a front. I mean, he refused to touch the water glass so we couldn't get his fingerprints and we thought nothing of it. Convenient, don't you think?'

‘And he's nurtured this faux phobia all these years just for this moment?'

Suddenly exhausted, I scooched myself back against the sheriff and snuggled in, wrapping his arms around me like a blanket. ‘You have a good point, not to mention a nifty way with words. The writers must be rubbing off on you.'

‘They aren't the only ones rubbing on me.' Pavlik's breath tickled my ear. ‘You'd better behave or I'm going to have to do you right here and now.'

‘Threat or promise?'

Pavlik's arms tightened. ‘Listen, Maggy. Boyce and I have been talking. Unless cell service improves now that the storm has stopped, we may have to hike out of here.'

I couldn't imagine convincing the other passengers to step into the water just to cross the flooded track, much less hike along the tracks once they reached the other side. Unless, of course, a booze bar or a giant bottle of aspirin was at the end of the rainbow, in which case all bets were off.

I turned to face him. ‘It could be fifty miles back to Fort Lauderdale. And that's assuming, given the flooding, that there's a railway bed to walk on.'

‘We'd take cell phones and call for help as soon as we reached an area where there was service.'

‘That makes some sense. But you're not thinking everyone would go with us, are you? Plus, what about the alligators, snakes and all?' I fought the shiver that threatened to climb down my spine.

‘Actually,' Pavlik said, seeming to tread carefully. ‘I was thinking Boyce would come with me, given we don't know what we may find. Not only does he have some training, but he's an outsider to this group.'

I should have been relieved but, in truth, I was a little hurt. I might not be Linda Hamilton in
Terminator 2
, but hadn't Pavlik just complimented me on how well I'd accounted for myself under dire circumstances? ‘So you trust
him
.'

‘Yes. And I trust you, too.'

I brightened. ‘So I
am
coming with you.'

‘Honestly, I was hoping you'd take over Boyce's post and keep everyone else out of the sleeping car.'

I saw the reasoning, though I didn't like it much. But then how logical was it for me to be disappointed that I couldn't again become one with the denizens of the Everglades?

‘Sure you want a sociopath minding the store?'

Pavlik smiled. ‘Struck a nerve, did I?'

I shifted uncomfortably. ‘My roommate in college called me a sociopath once. I guess ever since I've wondered if she was right.'

‘What was her reasoning?'

‘You mean besides her being a psych major? I found the apartment, so I took the bigger bedroom.' I shrugged. ‘It seemed only fair to me.'

‘Well, cheer up.' Pavlik gave me a squeeze. ‘You're probably just self-centered.'

‘Thank you. Coming from you, that means a lot.'

Pavlik looked past me out the window. ‘There's a glow on the horizon. The sun is starting to come up.'

So it was. I could actually see the water and scrubby grasses across from us.

‘And still not raining.' I sighed. ‘When will you go?'

‘Soon. But not until I've kissed you properly.'

And he did.

‘But the dispatchers must have missed us by now,' Markus was saying. ‘We haven't knocked the next signal down. They'll know exactly what block to find us in.'

‘His family is in railroad,' I told Pavlik. I knew it sounded like ‘my uncle sells insurance,' but even at this short acquaintance, I trusted Markus and his information.

Despite the 148 errors in his books.

Pavlik had briefed the passengers – now sober in more ways than the obvious – on our current situation, as well as his plan.

‘What do you mean by knocking the signals down?' he asked Markus.

‘There are electrical circuits on the track,' Markus explained. ‘When a train passes through it breaks a connection – a signal – giving the train's location. That's what causes the gates to go down at railroad crossings and stop automobile traffic. A knocked-down signal also informs dispatchers that a train has crossed into another section or “block.” Or not, in our case. It may take a while, but eventually someone will come looking for us.'

‘We're saved!' Grace said, clapping her hands. Everyone was sitting up a little straighter, hangovers be damned.

Pavlik turned to Engineer Hertel. ‘You couldn't have told me about this?'

‘I would've if they'd been working,' the old man said, pulling at an ear. ‘Same with the radios, which somebody neglected to equip with batteries before we left.'

Somebody. I wondered who. Or whom.

I was starting to wonder if the engineer was, in reality, an evil genius who'd hatched a plan to not only murder Potter and feed him to a giant python, but strand us here in the Everglades ‘purely in-commun-i-cado' so he could make his escape.

If only he
would
make his escape.

The whole car had slumped again.

Pavlik just shook his head. ‘Since I don't know how far we'll have to walk to find cell service and call for help, it may be a while before we get back. Hopefully not too long.'

‘Are we talking hours or days here?' Harvey asked.

‘Hours, I hope.' Pavlik turned back to the engineer. ‘I assume we're most likely to find civilization by heading east.'

‘You are. Besides the track not being finished all the way west anyway.'

‘Good point,' Pavlik said lightly. ‘Though I'm hoping we wouldn't have had to walk all the way to Naples anyway.'