The Case of Bonnie and Clyde: A Laurel Private Eye Mystery by Shannon D. Wells

Author:Shannon D. Wells [Wells, Shannon D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pearl Handle Press
Published: 2018-12-02T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

It was just after eight when the jewels of Dallas's night skyline got close enough to feel that we were there. I had slept most of the way, lulled by the growl of the engine and the road noise blocking out any conversations the men were having.

"What's the plan?" I asked, leaning forward to include myself in the group.

"Same plan there always is: go to the one thing we know and find out more." Major Goodall sounded resigned, not irritated. That was a good start.

"So what do we know?" It slipped out before I thought.

"He arrived in Dallas by train, and we know which line, so we know the depot. And it would have been Monday afternoon, so we have a time," Tom answered.

Major Goodall nodded, approving.

This, I realized, was why he had saved our necks. Tom actually wasn't a total blockhead, no matter how annoyed I was with him. Major Goodall directed Tom to the depot we were looking for and then straightened his suit and hat.

"I'm going to start with the porters, Tom you ask the train employees."

"What do I do?"

"Stay in the car, it's too late at night for a respectable woman to be walking around a train station alone. Especially starting conversations with strangers." Major Goodall ducked his head and then was out of the car.

"That's ridiculous, Tom!" I called as he started to get out. He stopped and looked back at me. It struck me how tired he looked already.

"What are you going to say that helps, Larry? He's not going to be here at the train station. There's going to be no shortage of work later. I'd feel better if you stayed in the car."

"I'll stay in the car, but just this once. I'm out every other lead we follow." I thought it was the best way to give him a break.

"Thank you, Larry." He shut the door, and I wrapped myself in my coat and watched through the window.

Tom was right. They didn't seem to have much luck. Though many people were around and about their business—it seemed like quite a few for a weeknight—I kept seeing heads shake no to the questions.

After what seemed like forever but was really just over thirty minutes by my lapel watch, they reconvened in the car.

"Any luck?" Major Goodall asked Tom, who shook his head no.

"Me neither. I think it's a different crew that works weekdays." He sighed, looking beat.

"What about the taxis?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Major Goodall's head swiveled around.

"Well, there's some taxis just waiting over there, maybe they were here on Monday. Or maybe their company would know..." Major Goodall was pounding the dashboard in front of him, and I was unsure if I should continue.

"Damndamndamn. You know I'm tired when I forget about taxis." He rubbed his face and his head, then put his hat back on and turned to me. "Thank you, Laurel, the obvious was a big help."

My mouth fell open, but he was already out of the car, headed to the taxis.

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