Holiday Gone: The Hettie and Ro Adventures by Beth Byers & Bettie Jane

Author:Beth Byers & Bettie Jane [Byers, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2019-12-10T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

They’d called for the train security officer while Ribsy had locked the door to the compartment from the outside. He’d taken a seat on a stool nearby to watch the door and prevent anyone else from entering. The train was still stopped on the tracks, but local police officers—the Canadians apparently referred to them as mounties—had arrived on horseback.

There was organized chaos around the compartment, which she and Hettie watched from nearby, given that the Mounties wanted to talk to them both. One of the maids who had been nearby with Ribsy said that they’d heard arguing from inside. They’d also seen a person in a dark cloak that covered their face quickly leave. There was a hint of snow on the cloak, so—at first—the maid had assumed it was a passenger who had ventured off the train, but now—the girl was hysterical that she’d come so close to death herself.

The compartment where Cecil had been found was assigned to Janet and Humphrey Banks, Hettie’s aunt and uncle. Hettie’s entire family secured compartments near to one another. Cecil’s compartment was three down the aisle from Humphrey while Amy and Frederick’s door faced the one where Cecil had been found.

Hettie dreaded the thought that a person Hettie was supposed to love might have killed Cecil.

Jonas Cavanaugh was the first family member to get word of the murder and arrive at the compartment. He took in Hettie’s distraught expression but said nothing, and his face didn’t reveal his thoughts. Before long, Amy and Frederick came teetering down the hall toward their room, clearly inebriated. It seemed they’d been lingering in the dining area, drinking heavily. They didn’t appear to notice the crowd gathered outside their rooms until they were nearly standing on top of them.

“What’s all this?” Amy demanded, glancing between them all. She took in Hettie’s presence and hissed, “Come to your senses?”

“Ah,” Ro said too loudly, “that does seem in particularly poor taste.”

Amy turned to Ro, gaze narrowed, and snarled, “That’s enough out of you. I know what you are, and I don’t like it.”

“What am I?” Ro asked.

“Sister stealer.”

“You lost me all on your own,” Hettie told Amy. “Cecil is dead, and you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Poor Ribsy shuddered at Hettie’s flat tone. “I—I—I found him. Someone—someone clocked—oh dear me—I didn’t mean—” His voice trailed off.

Hettie had to bite down on her bottom lip to prevent the very in-poor-taste laugh. She met Ro’s gaze and saw the same flustered expression that she assumed matched her own. She fixed her gaze on her sister, but inside, she wanted nothing more than to escape the madness and start their journey anew. Without the presence of family, living or dead.

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