Birds of Prey by J.A. Jance

Author:J.A. Jance [Jance, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Avon, William Morrow, 9780380716548
ISBN: 0380716542
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

There were occasions when the switchbacks were so tight that

we could see the front of the train rounding a curve long

before the back of the train ever reached it. Down in the steep

ravines far below us, where dregs of fog still drifted here and

198

J. A. JANCE

there, we sometimes caught sight of waterfalls sending tor-

rents of water hundreds of feet off rockbound cliffs. It was

spectacularly beautiful—breathtakingly beautiful. Despite

my natural reserve and my cop’s detached if not blasé atti-

tude, I was becoming more and more impressed.

Then, just as we neared the top of the grade, the door at

the far end of our car swished open, and Marc Alley came

marching down the aisle. I nodded to him, thinking that per-

haps he had come looking for me in order to bury the hatchet.

No such luck. With an oversized camera bobbing around his

neck, Marc hurried right past me and out onto the back of the

train, where Lars and Mike Conyers stood leaning against the

rail. No alarms sounded when he went out, either.

I saw Marc position himself right in the middle of the

observation deck. With his feet spread to maintain his bal-

ance, his elbows extended on either side of his head as he

focused his camera. Then, as the door at the front of the car

swished open once more, the car was plunged into total dark-

ness as the train entered what I would later learn was called

Tunnel Mountain.

As the train roared into the tunnel, I caught one final

glimpse of Marc Alley, standing there with his attention

focused entirely on his camera. I heard the door to the obser-

vation platform swish open and closed once more. In the dark-

ness, I hoped that meant Marc was coming inside. Just then, I

saw a flash go off, not once but twice. Worried that someone

else had come down the aisle and bumped into Marc without

seeing him, I started out of my seat to go check. Just then I

heard the observation platform door swish open one more

time. As I stepped into the aisle, someone crashed into me

Birds of Prey

199

with enough force that it knocked the wind out of me and sent

me sprawling back into my seat.

Struggling to regain my breath, I heard a long, piercing

scream. The sound ended abruptly as the observation plat-

form door slid shut once again. Heart pounding, I staggered

back to my feet and charged down the aisle. I reached the

observation platform just as the train burst out of the far side

of the tunnel and into blinding sunlight.

Out on the platform, Marc Alley was on his hands and

knees, scrambling to regain his footing and his camera. He

crawled over to the rail and pulled himself unsteadily to his

feet. Lars, clinging to the guardrail, was holding Mike Con-

yers’ coat and pointing back through the tunnel. As for Mike

Conyers? He was nowhere to be seen.

“What happened?” I shouted, over the clatter of iron

wheels on the track.

“Someone hit me,” Marc shouted back at me. “They hit

me from behind. And when I fell . . . Oh, my God!” The

dawning horror of realization washed over Marc’s face.

“Where is he?” he demanded.

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