Murder on the Orient Espresso (28 page)

When we got to the door, Markus climbed into the train. Carson handed the girl up to him and then the rest of us hoisted ourselves in.

‘Wait,' I said, awkwardly retrieving the semi-automatic and Missy's e-reader which I'd left on the floor. I kicked my pillow aside and opened the door of the roomette across from Potter's. ‘Put her in there.'

When they'd placed Missy on the bunk, I covered her with a blanket and put the e-reader next to a hand. Then I picked up her shoes from the floor and we left, softly closing the door as if we didn't want to awaken her.

The rest of the group continued on to the passenger car, but Carson was standing in the corridor, staring at his filthy hands.

‘Why didn't you tell Pavlik or me you were representing Danny?' It didn't matter now, but I still wanted to know.

‘Danny?' Carson was holding up both hands like a surgeon who'd scrubbed for an operation, and was impatiently awaiting sterile gloves.

‘Your new client? The one whose sexy book will now take the place of the novel Potter was writing?'

Carson had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘I told him to send me the manuscript. I was intrigued. I didn't say I'd represent him.'

Given the agent's personality and, more importantly, Danny's, that made sense. The kid had gotten carried away – just assumed the agent would take him on.

‘If you want to wash your hands …' I opened the door of the roomette next to where we'd just left Missy and flipped down the sink. ‘And thank you for helping out there. I know it couldn't have been easy for you.'

‘You're welcome,' Carson said, trying to operate the faucet with his elbow. ‘I've found I can do these things if necessary. Or … appropriate.'

‘Me, too.' I leaned in, turned on the water and left him.

Since there was nothing left to guard or anybody to guard it from, I returned to the passenger car, sinking wearily down into a window seat.

‘Here, drink this.' Zoe Scarlett gave me a plastic cup with about an inch of brown liquid in it.

I sniffed. ‘Kahlua?'

She nodded. ‘I hoarded it for later if I needed a drink. But you've earned it more than I have.'

Greater love hath no woman than to share her coffee-flavored liqueur with a sister. ‘Thanks. This is very nice of you.'

‘Not really. In fact, I haven't been very nice at all.'

I shrugged and tossed back the Kahlua. It was so thick it didn't toss well. ‘In fairness, you were drunk quite a bit of the time. Besides, you wanted Pavlik and I had him. Correction: I h
ave
him.'

I glanced out the window, wanting nothing more than to see my sheriff riding in to save the day, or what was left of it.

Zoe sat down next to me. ‘You can't blame me. Jaco— Jake's a good guy.'

‘He is that.' I was sticking my tongue into the glass to dredge up the remains. ‘I hope he and Boyce are OK.'

‘Me, too. It'll be getting dark again in a few hours. I really don't want to spend another night out here. If Missy wasn't already dead, I'd kill her for getting me into this.' Zoe tried to laugh, but it didn't come off.

‘Missy saved my life,' I said woodenly. ‘Instead of running – and maybe escaping – she stayed there and killed the snake that would have killed me.'

‘Run to where?' Zoe demanded. ‘We're in the middle of the Everglades. Besides, you knew she killed Larry Potter. Missy would have been hunted down and tried for murder.'

‘If the snake had finished me, no one would have known,' I said stubbornly. ‘Missy knew that.'

‘Apparently I have more faith in the sheriff's ability than you do,' Zoe said, sounding a bit more like her obnoxious self.

‘I have plenty of faith in him, but we'd … well, I guess if I was dead,
he'd
be leaving for Wisconsin.' And in mourning, I hoped. ‘Not staying here to investigate.'

Zoe's head dropped back on her shoulders and she seemed to study the ceiling of the train. ‘I just don't know.'

‘Know what?'

When Zoe met my eyes, there were tears in hers. ‘I don't know if Missy could have lived with what she'd done. She was such a persnickety girl – that's what made her so good. What made her valuable to someone like me, of the more scattered type. In Missy's world, everything had to be just so and, given what had happened …'

‘Nothing could be right again. Ever.'

Zoe nodded.

I couldn't argue with that. In fact, everything I'd witnessed today, everything Missy had told me, bore that out. The girl had tried her best to please, but it hadn't been enough. At least, not enough for her.

I looked down at the glittery shoes, clutched so tightly my knuckles were white.

Poor, lost little murderer.

It was nearly four in the afternoon when we heard the whistle of a train.

Piling out, we raced around our locomotive to see another engine chugging up the track toward us. Pulling a single car, it stopped on the opposite side of the water-filled breach.

I pushed my way to the front of our little group of castaways just as Pavlik hopped out. He was followed by Boyce and about a dozen men and women in all kinds of uniforms.

Forgetting the dangers of the Everglades – or maybe feeling I'd already faced the worst of them – I splashed through the shallow water to the sheriff and threw my arms around him.

Pavlik kissed me hard. ‘Told you I'd be back. Is everything OK here?'

I looked down at the two glittery shoes I'd carried with me.

‘You'd best sit down,' I said, pointing toward the doorway of our rescue train. And then I quoted the killer who'd saved my life: ‘It's a long story.'