Murder on the Sugarland Express by Angie Fox

Author:Angie Fox
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781939661463
Publisher: Moose Island Books LLC

* * *

I made it back over the walkway to the main part of the train because I didn’t have a choice. When I entered the rear passenger car, I found Manning standing outside compartment 9, looking a bit green in the gills.

“Morning,” I said, leaving off the “good” part, fully expecting him to question my business at the back of the train.

He merely nodded as I passed. “We’re lucky to have Mr. Wydell on board,” he said, and I knew exactly which brother he meant.

“We are,” I agreed, stopping at the door to compartment 8. “I’m just going to check on—” With the stress of the morning, I’d completely blanked on the reporter’s name. “Her,” I finished, with a genteel lift of my chin.

Much trust and goodwill could be gained by proper behavior, even if one still wore a robe minus slippers.

I knocked and the door cracked open. The redheaded woman from last night answered the door in a simple T-shirt and jeans, her short hair pulled back in a multicolor bandana. “Yes?”

“Hi.” I gave her my biggest, brightest smile. “My name is Verity Long. From compartment 10. I wonder if I might come in and speak to you for a moment.” I nodded toward the conductor, as if he approved of this meeting and so should she.

She followed my gaze and seemed relieved to see someone else in the hallway. “Is there something going on?” she asked, stepping back to let me enter.

“Yes,” I said, not bothering to sugarcoat it, “I apologize for my dress.” Or lack thereof. My grandmother would need a fan and a pinch of smelling salts if she saw me out like this. My mother would blame herself. “But after the tragic events of this morning, I’m not at my best.”

She gave a quick nod. “Eileen Powers,” she said, holding out a hand for me to shake. “I heard you in the hallway when they found her.” She gestured toward a velvet couch just like the one in my room and moved a few file folders so I could sit. “How awful,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

I forgave her casual concern. Perhaps she hadn’t known Stephanie well, although she certainly had enjoyed some familiarity. I’d watched Beau’s girlfriend visit this compartment last night.

“It is a tragedy,” I said, watching for her reaction and getting none. We faced each other on the couch, with me nearer the window and the scattered stack of file folders on the table. I bumped my ankle on the lamp she’d relocated to the floor. “It appears she was killed overnight or in the early morning hours. My boyfriend and I are light sleepers, but we didn’t hear a thing. Did you?”

She snorted out a laugh. “I heard plenty earlier.”

“Ah. That.” I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“If they were dogs, I’d have gotten out the hose.” She rubbed a hand along her jaw, amused at her own joke.

I felt the flush creep up my neck.

“My,” I managed, embarrassed for them and for me.

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