Death by Denim

Author:Linda Gerber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin USA, Inc.

He was right; the station wasn’t far at all. Just down the road, past the hay fields and over a gentle rise. In the early morning light and with the mist left from the rain, the farmland we were hiking through looked like a pastoral painting. But I was much too angry to enjoy the scenery. He lied to me. He was lying to me. My mom was right; you can’t trust anyone.

We’d only been walking for maybe fifteen minutes before I could see the tracks curve ahead and not long after that, the hipped roof of the station.

I did a lot of thinking in those fifteen minutes, and although I ended up with more questions than answers, one thing I knew for sure was that there was no way I was going to Milan. Not with the remaining threat against Seth and his family. I could only assume Ryan had been talking to the Agency, and no matter what they said, I wasn’t going to abandon the Mulos.

How I was going to escape from Ryan was another matter. He wasn’t going to let me just walk away. I thought of how he’d chased me the night before and I knew I wasn’t going to outrun him, either. He’d said I needed to work on my evasion technique. Fine. That’s exactly what I’d do.

As Ryan bought our tickets, I studied the schedule on the wall. It was six twenty-two. The train to Milan headed south from track four in six minutes. The train we should be taking curved north to Porto Ceresio, stopping in Varese. It left in twelve minutes. What made him think I would be stupid enough not to know the difference? Because I trusted him? Wrong.

I pretended not to notice the destination clearly posted next to the door and allowed him to lead me onto the deception train.

We found two empty seats together and Ryan stepped aside so I could take the one by the window. Or, more likely, so that he could box me in. I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the seat.

“You still tired?” Ryan asked.

“Sì.” I answered, without looking at him. Tired of being lied to.

Soon, the voice on the train’s intercom announced our imminent departure. I stood. “Excuse me,” I said.

Ryan glanced up, startled. “Where are you going?”

I gave him a pained look. “I need to . . . you know.” I jerked my head toward the restrooms at the end of the car.

“Oh.”

I climbed over him and hurried down the aisle, feeling his eyes on my back the entire time. I glanced at my watch. The train should leave in less than a minute. I reached the doors to the bathroom. Thirty seconds. Paused. Twenty seconds. I kept walking to the vestibule. Ten seconds. Ryan bolted out of his chair and started charging down the aisle toward me. The chime sounded overhead. Five seconds. I slipped out the doors just before they closed.

Standing on the platform, I watched as the train sighed and shuddered forward.

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