Derailed (Windy City Neighbors) by Jackson Neta & Dave Jackson

Author:Jackson Neta & Dave Jackson
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Worthy Publishing
Published: 2013-10-15T21:00:00+00:00

The annoying trill of my iPhone alarm woke me at five. Ack! Oughta change that alarm tone, maybe to a blues riff. Then I realized the train wasn’t moving. The station sign outside my window said Omaha, Nebraska. According to the printed schedule, we’d be here fifteen minutes. Most stops were no more than a few minutes, just enough time for passengers to detrain or board. No time for smokers to satisfy their craving or service dogs to relieve themselves.

“Come on, Corky. You need a walk. Could be your last chance.”

We came out of the compartment and stood in the vestibule. Trying not to appear too independent, I called, “Miss Angelina,” out into the space above her head. She was only a few feet from the door.

“Yes, Mr. Bentley.”

“How long are we going to be stopped? Can I walk my dog?”

She took me to the dog run and promised to make sure I got safely back before the train departed.

Once the train was underway again, I showered and shaved—amazing how much they can tuck into these compartments—and headed off with Corky to hunt for the mule. I thought it’d be easier to make my way through the cars while most people were still asleep.

That was true. Once on the upper level, I didn’t have to negotiate passing people with Corky. But I hadn’t even gotten out of our sleeping car before it struck me: if the mule was traveling in one of the larger sleeping compartments, it might be impossible for Corky to catch the scent of the dope.

A dog’s sense of smell is amazing, ten thousand times more sensitive than humans by some estimates. But smell still travels on air currents, and if the smell’s floating the other way, even a trained dog won’t catch it.

If we didn’t find our mule anywhere else in the train, I might have to think how to access closed compartments. But that posed a prosecution problem. If Corky couldn’t smell it from outside, I would need a warrant to enter the space, and of course there was no way to get one en route.

I pressed the panel of the connecting door to the next car and it wheezed open. We had a lot of train to explore before I needed to worry about closed compartments. When no one was around to see us, Corky and I moved forward with ease, not groping for the vertical handrails to maintain balance as we passed between cars, or trying to find the pressure plate that opened the doors. I tried to watch Corky to see if she picked up anything suspicious.

In the dining car, the waiters were putting the final preparations on the tables for breakfast.

“Sir, sir. We’re not open yet. Come back at six, and it’ll be first come, first served.”

“That’s okay, I’m just going through.”

There were only a half dozen passengers in the observation car. Some were curled up in the seats, obviously having spent some of the night sleeping there. But a couple

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