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Murder Train: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

Page 8

by Stacey Alabaster


  Eventually, I stopped scrubbing and threw the filthy brush into the sink.

  I couldn't put it off forever. Even if I missed this meeting, there would just be another one scheduled. And if there was no meeting at all...well, that wasn't good either. That just meant that The Pastry Tree would make other arrangements, with or without my cooperation.

  At least this way, I kept some semblance of control.

  "Thanks," I said to Gwen, waving to her as I left. "I'd better get out of here." The rest of the passengers had emptied out and everyone was starting to make the long trek back to where we'd departed the train.

  Just as I was about to leave, Dan walked into the dining room, grabbed a newspaper from the basket at the entryway, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sat down with a satisfied sigh.

  Oh, don't tell me he's just settling in...

  I walked over to him slowly.

  "You'd better drink that coffee quickly if you're going to have time to walk to the train tracks."

  "Hmm?" Dan put his paper down and took a slow sip. "Oh, I'm not in any hurry."

  I tried to keep a lid on it, but inside, I was beginning to seethe.

  "You're not leaving?" I asked through gritted teeth.

  Dan shook his head and took another sip. "Seems to me like there's still a few loose ends to tie up around here. I don't like loose ends when it comes to cases. They're messy. But, maybe I'm just more professional than some other detectives."

  He peered up at me with smug little eyes.

  I folded my arms. "Actually, I am sticking around as well," I said. "As you can see, I'm still here, working. In the kitchen, and on the case."

  "Are you just?"

  "Y—"

  "Rachael!" Pippa screamed. She was standing outside the window, her bag on her arm, waving at me frantically.

  Dan wrinkled his nose. "I think someone wants your attention."

  I gave him a thin smile. "I'll be right back." Don't move a muscle, I wanted to say.

  I sighed and walked over the door.

  "What the heck is taking you so long?" Pippa hurried over to the door, wild with agitation. "You need to come and pack up your stuff. Now."

  "But Dan isn't leaving yet..."

  "So what? We are. Drop it, Rachael. It's over."

  Pippa waited at the cabin door with her hands on her hips. "We'll have to run to make the train. The rest of the group left fifteen minutes ago."

  "There'll be another train."

  "Not one that gets us to our meeting on time. What's taking so long anyway? It's not as if we planned ahead and brought overnight bags. You've just got your handbag, right?"

  "Right. I just can't find it," I muttered, spinning around. It was nowhere to be found. I stood with my hands on my hips. "Oh, you don't think Garry has stolen it, do you?"

  Pippa's eyebrows shot up. "I do actually..." She was momentarily distracted from her anger at me, now that she had it trained on Garry. "I mean, I did see him looking through Eden's bags. Maybe he really is a thief."

  I stood up. "Maybe we need to stay behind, tell the cops about it."

  "Maybe we do...no, wait!" Pippa threw her hands up into the air. "We're done with this, remember."

  "It's my bag!" What, was I supposed to just leave without it?

  Then I saw it, purple and shiny, on the floor, sticking out from underneath a grubby looking knapsack.

  Dan's.

  "Great. He's chucked his bag on top of mine. Of course he has," I grumbled as I bent down to lift up his knapsack so that I could get to my own bag stuck underneath it.

  As I moved Dan's bag—not very carefully, I have to admit—something dropped out of it.

  What the heck...

  I knelt down and picked up the piece of paper. "What is this?" I said out loud. It was a map of the area, with a line drawn from Ana's windmill right to the spot where the train had stopped.

  "Pippa...come and look at this..."

  She groaned. "Not another distraction, Rachael..."

  "I am being serious. Come and look at this," She must have heard the worry in my voice because she finally stopped arguing and came to look at the map I was holding.

  "What the..."

  "I know," I said with a heavy gulp. "Why does Dan have this?"

  Pippa took it off me with shaking hands. "It's a map from the train to the windmill. What, did he print this off after Eden was killed and the train stopped?"

  "With what?" I asked. "Unless he has a portable printer in here!" I riffled through his knapsack just to make sure. "No," I said, shaking my head. "He got onto that train with that map already in his pocket. He knew he was going to need to travel from the stopped train to the windmill." Ice ran up my spine.

  Pippa's voice tremble. "But how did Dan know that the train was going to stop there? How did he know Eden was going to be killed?"

  "Because, Pippa. Dan is the one who killed Eden."

  I looked down at the map.

  "And even stranger—Dan knew Ana before any of this happened."

  Chapter 11

  "What are you doing, looking through that bag?"

  I dropped the map and stood up, expecting Dan to be there, thinking I was caught in the act.

  I was, but it wasn't Dan standing there. It was Garry.

  "I was just grabbing my purse," I mumbled. "We're leaving now, getting on the train."

  Garry grabbed my arm, stopping me as I tried to get out the door. "I don't believe you," he said.

  "Let go of me!" I shouted, pushing him off me. I ran out the door before he could grab me again, Pippa chasing after me.

  "Where are you going?" she called out.

  "I'm trying to find Officer Green," I said, looking around for her police car. "She must still be here somewhere."

  I spotted the police car and began to run toward it. "Officer Green!" I called as she walked out of her room.

  "What is it?" she asked wearily. "I've only got enough room in my car for one passenger and it's already taken." She nodded toward Garry. "So you'll have to walk, I'm afraid."

  "That's not what I'm here for..."

  Garry smiled at me and climbed into the passenger seat of Officer Green's car.

  "Make it quick, Rachael."

  "I have new information about the case."

  "I appreciate it, Rachael, but there's no need for it now. The case is closed."

  Closed?

  "Wait!" I said to Officer Green before she got into her car. "Why didn't you ever question me and Pippa about what we knew?" I asked, shaking my head. "You pulled Garry out of his room last night, but we never got questioned? Why are you letting us all go?"

  Green sighed. "Not that it's any of your business, but new information has come to light, and we are done here, Miss Robinson. Thank you for your patience and your... 'information' on the case." She climbed into the car and slammed the door shut, driving off with Garry.

  "Great," Pippa said, walking up behind me. "That was our last chance of making it on time. I hope she's safe in that car with Garry."

  We watched them practically speed out of the parking lot and out onto the gravelly track that would take them back to the station.

  "Of course she is," I grumbled. "They are in love or something, probably driving off to a lovers’ getaway, not even the train station. I can't believe she wouldn't listen to what I had to say though..." I glanced over my shoulder at the dining hall. "And now we are stuck here with a killer."

  "Yeah, well, love makes you stupid," Pippa said, sighing. "So what are we going to do now?"

  We were the last of the passengers left at the campsite. "Just you, me, and Dan makes three," I said. "I guess we’re going to have to catch the killer all on our own."

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper, reading over the map again. It gave me the shivers. "Why did Dan have this?" I asked again, shaking my head, while Pippa looked at it over my shoulder.

  "Maybe he's just really into windmills?" Pippa asked. "Maybe
he wanted to see one up close?"

  I just looked at her, biting my tongue. This really wasn't the time to tell her that was the stupidest theory of all time, especially after our fight the night before. "There are windmills everywhere, though," I said.

  "Yeah, but not windmills that people live in," Pippa said. "Maybe this one was..." She took the map from me and shrugged. "I don't know. A tourist destination? Historically interesting or something? Maybe it's famous."

  I slowly pulled the map from her, a slow burning feeling of realization coming over me. I looked at the map again.

  Windmills.

  A famous windmill...

  Why was this ringing a bell, somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind?

  I looked up at Pippa. "Dan is really into historical stuff, remember?"

  "Well, historical murders," Pippa replied.

  "Do you have any internet reception on your phone?" I started to ask her.

  There was a buzzing in my pocket. Kenneth had finally replied to the text I'd sent him last night.

  He seemed surprised by what I'd told him. "Garry from the town hall meeting is there???" He'd texted back with three question marks.

  "Yes. Well, he was. He's escaped now. Run off with his new love interest, some lady officer he's having an affair with."

  I put the phone back into my pocket without thinking about it, but it buzzed again right away.

  I pulled it back out. "Really? I thought Garry had a boyfriend?"

  What? I took a few seconds to text back. "How do you know that?"

  I waited. Pippa was still looking over the map. Neither of us had our eyes on Dan.

  Come on, I thought, tapping my nails against my phone. I started to open the browser so I could Google, but it was taking forever to load with the poor internet reception. And it was taking ages for Kenneth's text to come through. Or maybe he just didn't know what he was talking about like I suspected.

  The browser window on my phone was spinning, unable to load. Pippa called out to me. "I have no reception again! But I think there's a computer in the lodge check-in area."

  I nodded and followed her, passing the dining hall. I was so preoccupied staring at my phone that I didn't notice if Dan was still in the dining hall or not.

  Finally, a text came through from Kenneth, right as we reached the lodge lobby.

  "Because I know the people who live in our town, Rach. Clearly better than you do, lol. He has a boyfriend, some tall guy. British Really sarcastic."

  I was still trying to process this while I sat down slowly behind Pippa, who'd already paid the receptionist for an hour's worth of internet time and was now trying to load an ancient PC that sat in the office.

  "So what is it you wanted to look at?" Pippa asked once the screen had finally loaded.

  "Huh?" I asked.

  "What's wrong with you? You wanted to look up something online."

  "Ah, right." I put my phone back in my pocket and tried not to think about it for a minute. "Umm, look up windmills in the area."

  "Okay." She turned back to the screen but after about thirty seconds of loading time, all we had was a map with little red pins all over it, showing us the location of every windmill in the greater Belldale region.

  I took my phone out of my pocket again. Garry and Julian were in a relationship? Were still in a relationship?

  "Okay, so what do we do now?" Pippa asked.

  I stared at the screen, trying to concentrate. "Right. Umm..." I pushed Pippa out of the way and apologized when I shoved too hard and she crashed into the wall.

  I stared at all the little dots. "None of these look notable," I said, squinting at them and trying to find the one where Ana and her family lived.

  I backed away. Pippa still had her hands over the keyboard.

  "Try...windmill...murder?"

  "What?" Pippa made a face like I was crazy.

  I shrugged a little. "I don't know. Just try it."

  "Okay," she said slowly, typing in "windmill" and "murder."

  The only thing that came up was an ancient crime film from the 1940s. "Try adding the area...Belldale," I said slowly.

  Pippa groaned loudly when the screen took forever to load again and eventually an error message saying no connectivity popped up.

  "I thought I paid for an hour?" Pippa called out to the receptionist.

  The lady flipped though a magazine. "No, you paid for five minutes."

  "Are you kidding me?" Pippa asked, fishing for coins through her pockets. "Five dollars for five minutes of internet time? What is this, the nineties?"

  While she was trying to find the cash, I checked my phone. "Hold up, I've got a bar!" I called out. "Save your cash, Pippa!"

  She snatched the five dollars back. "Total rip off, by the way," she said to the receptionist before she backed away.

  I typed the info into my phone's browser. "Belldale. Windmill. Murder." And waited.

  "What is that?" Pippa asked, looking at it over my shoulder and pointing at the screen.

  "If you moved your hand, I might be able to see."

  "Oh...my..." I opened the first link while the receptionist dropped her magazine and became very interested in our conversation.

  "There was a murder, almost thirty years ago." I scrolled down on the small screen, trying to get all the info before the internet bottomed out again. "An elderly couple were killed in a windmill..." I gasped and looked up at Pippa. "It's Ana's windmill."

  "Who is Ana?" the receptionist asked, leaning forward.

  Pippa and I both looked at her. "Let's get out of here."

  Back in the parking lot, I pressed the back button on my browser, trying to find another link for more information.

  Pippa grabbed my arm. "Where is Dan?" she asked slowly.

  I spun around to look inside the dining room. It looked empty. "Shoot," I said, racing to the window to check.

  I ran back to our room and almost cursed when I saw that Dan's filthy knapsack was missing from the floor.

  "He's gone," I said to Pippa. "What the heck do we do now?"

  The receptionist, whose name turned out to be Lisa, looked at us warily. "It'll be five dollars per mile to take one of the trucks out for the day. We keep them locked up out in the shed."

  "Five dollars per mile?" Pippa cried. "Are you kidding me? You've got to be kidding, right? Does that even include gas?"

  Lisa shook her head. "Gas is on top."

  Pippa thumped the counter. "That's insane. No, then, we can't hire one."

  I grabbed her arm to stop her from thumping it again. "How else are we going to get out of here? Find Dan? Get to the train in time?"

  "Oh, you won't be able to leave one of our trucks at the station," Lisa cut in. "Someone will have to drop it back here."

  I dug into my purse and fetched my credit card. "Just take this, Lisa. And get us a truck. A car. A bike. Anything. Just something with wheels."

  Pippa was the only one of us who could drive a stick shift, so the responsibility of navigating the truck out of the parking lot fell to her.

  "Remember, we'll stick to the roads until we're out of Lisa's sticky gaze, then we'll hit the fields," I said to Pippa, who had a horrified look as she turned the two-ton truck onto the road.

  "I don't think you've thought this plan through, Rachael," Pippa said to me, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. "How are we going to return this thing? How are we even going to drive it and stay alive?"

  "We've got to find Dan, that's all I know," I said, craning my neck to try and see as far across the fields as I could. "You're doing great, by the way. Just keep two hands on the wheel."

  "I don't understand any of this," Pippa murmured.

  I grabbed my phone, hoping for a bar. "Yes!" I screamed before I opened the browser again. "Well, from the look of this ancient article, thirty years ago there was a killing at Ana's windmill," I said, reading.

  "Well, so?" Pippa asked.

  "Pippa, the crime was never solved." Oh shoot,
I'd forgotten to put on my seat belt and we were nearing a bend. The tires screeched—so did Pippa—as we rounded the curve and I clung on for dear life.

  "Okay, forget the road," I said breathlessly. "Go off road. It's time to hit the field."

  Pippa closed her eyes as she turned the wheel left and I almost slapped her. "Don't close your eyes!"

  "Sorry! I was just too scared to look."

  But we'd made it off the bumpy road and the fields, with their short cropped grass, were far easier to drive on.

  Pippa started to regain her composure a little. "Okay, so the crime was never solved? Ever?"

  I shook my head. "And who do we know that loves solving these so-called cold cases?" I asked. "Our little friend Dan."

  I clicked on a link a little further down the page of results. "Look at this," I said, before remembering she was driving a truck. "Well, maybe don't look. Listen to this. Because of the mysterious nature of the crime—and the weird family stuff involved in it—it's become sort of like folk lore. And it's one of the most investigated and talked about crimes in the online cold case community." The link I had clicked on took me straight to a forum for internet sleuths and a very long—over a hundred page long—post about the infamous Windmill murders.

  "So a person with the username ‘Danstheman’," I said, rolling my eyes a little, "has posted in the thread recently, saying that he is taking a trip this way and is going to check it out." I put my phone down. "Claiming he is going to make it his next big solve."

  "But the windmill isn't anywhere near any train station—it's isolated."

  "One of the other reasons for the interest in the case," I said. "The isolated location. But remember Dan's map? He always knew the train was going to stop there. Giving him easy access to the windmill."

  "Oh my gosh," Pippa said, trying to navigate the fields. I just hoped we were going in the right direction. There weren't exactly any sign posts to point us in the direction of the windmill. "So, what do you think happened on the train, exactly?"

 

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