Destination Murder by Jessica Fletcher & Donald Bain

Author:Jessica Fletcher & Donald Bain [Fletcher, Jessica & Bain, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9780451210487
Publisher: Signet
Published: 2002-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

“Enjoy your evening at the ranch?” Detective Marshall asked as I boarded the Whistler Northwind for the final portion of our three-day journey, the longest leg that would culminate at Prince George.

“Yes,” I said, “especially the horse-whispering demonstration this morning.”

“And what is that?” he asked.

“Did you see the film The Horse Whisperer?”

“Afraid I didn’t.”

I explained how a young female ranch hand at Hills Ranch had demonstrated that morning how she controlled her horse through body language and the movements of a small whip she carried, never touching the horse with it but cueing the animal by the various positions in which she held it, aided by subtle verbal sounds.

“Would it work on people?” he asked, a glint in his eye.

“I doubt it.”

I watched him go up the aisle and disappear into the bar car. Junior Pinckney, his baseball hat on backwards, had already taken his position at the half-open door in the vestibule when I wandered through on my way into the dining car. I wanted some time to think undisturbed and the dining car was usually empty, likely the reason Winston Rendell conducted his telephone calls in there.

Rendell wasn’t there, but Benjamin was just leaving. He glared at me. “I hope you’re satisfied.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Blevin. The cops say he was poisoned. Now they’re harassing my mother.”

“I’m sorry about your mother, Benjamin, but I’m not to blame for the truth of your stepfather’s death.”

“Yeah, right.” He stomped past me, nearly knocking me over.

In the dining car, Jenna and Karl were setting the tables, distributing the fresh flowers that graced every meal. I sat at a table and moved my seat back so as not to disturb the tableware they had so carefully arranged. “Am I all right over here?” I asked.

“You’re just fine,” Jenna called out as she carried an empty tray from the car.

“Good morning, Mrs. Fletcher,” Karl said, placing a small vase of baby carnations on the table. He was dressed in his kitchen whites, his black hair pulled into a ponytail, white kerchief tied in back, riding low on his brow. Another kerchief, this one red, was tied around his neck.

I stared at him, and he smiled. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Good morning, Karl. Please excuse my rudeness. For a moment there, you looked familiar to me, but I can’t place where I may have seen you before.”

“No apologies necessary,” he said, pushing up his wire-rimmed spectacles where they had slid down the bridge of his narrow nose. “I must have that kind of face. People have told me that before.”

I noticed he wasn’t quite as young as I’d first supposed. His tanned face was unlined, but his neck and hands were those of an older man. Kitchen work takes quite a toll, I thought wryly. Aloud, I said: “Can you spare a moment to talk with me?”

“Certainly. How may I be of assistance? Would you like some coffee, a snack?”

“No, thank you. I was hoping to ask you about Alvin Blevin.”

A dark look passed over his face and then his features relaxed back into the bland expression he always wore.

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