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Loco Motive

Page 13

by Mary Daheim


  Judith started to nod off, but kept trying to stay awake. She was almost asleep when Renie’s arrival startled her. “Coz!” Judith gasped, shaking herself. “Good grief, I guess I’m more worn out than I thought.”

  “I don’t doubt it,” Renie said, placing their drinks on the small table. “Pepper, Wayne, and the Cowboy Hats weren’t in the bar or dome cars. Everybody’s milling around, talking about Mr. Beets.” She added ice to the Scotch and handed the drink to Judith. “Did Dr. Chan pay you a call?”

  Judith nodded. “He thought it was stress. I think he’s right.”

  “You’ve been running on fumes too long. Chill.” Renie settled into her chair. “Before I got to the bar, I wanted to view the wreckage, but Jax was by the other sleeper’s door and told me to get back on the train. They were rounding up passengers who were already having a look-see.”

  “Did they arrest the truck driver?”

  “No. I suppose they have to wait for the sheriff or the state patrol.”

  “That could take a while,” Judith said.

  “That’s not all,” Renie said. “We have to replace the front engine. It should come from Havre, but Jax says there’s too much track damage. We’ll switch to another spur, then crawl to Williston, our first stop in North Dakota. Even on schedule, we wouldn’t get there until tonight.”

  “That’s a pain in the butt,” Judith remarked. “Oh, well. At least we’re not stuck sleeping on an airport floor with small children stepping on our heads.”

  “Nor are we dead,” Renie said, “which is what happens when planes crash.”

  “True.” The cousins were silent for a few moments. “Oh,” Judith finally said, “did you find my wool socks when you put the camera away?”

  Renie’s brown eyes widened. “Damn!” She set her drink down and stood up. “We crashed before I could do anything. I landed against the luggage shelves and—” She stopped, frowning. “I rushed up here. Did I still have the camera?”

  “I don’t think so,” Judith said, “but I was muddled.”

  Renie moved to the corridor. “I must’ve dropped the camera between the stairs and the luggage racks. I’ll look for it and get your socks.”

  Judith hoped the expensive camera wasn’t lost. It might belong to a B&B guest. If so, the owner would be upset. Maybe she should ask Joe if there’d been any inquiries. Sipping her drink, she tried not to anticipate trouble. But there wasn’t much activity outside to divert her. Small dark birds hopped among thimble-berry vines. A rusted farm implement lay against a ramshackle split-rail fence. The gray clouds continued to gather. Would rain hinder the accident cleanup? To her knowledge, she’d never seen a sugar beet.

  Judith checked her watch. It was two-thirty, mountain standard time. They’d change to central time in North Dakota, losing another hour. Sipping more Scotch, she heard voices nearby. One belonged to Renie, but she didn’t recognize the others until the Cowboy Hats walked by. The Johnstons, she reminded herself as Renie appeared a moment later looking chagrined.

  “I couldn’t find the camera,” she confessed, handing Judith a pair of dark green wool socks. “I’ll ask Jax if anyone’s turned it in.”

  “Damn,” Judith murmured. “Did you find my camera?”

  “No.” Renie sat down. “I found the socks, but a couple of people from the downstairs roomettes were using the restrooms, and the Cowboy Hats were searching their own luggage. I didn’t have much maneuvering space.”

  “Did you talk to the Johnstons?”

  Renie frowned. “Who? Oh—the Johnstons. Or the Bobbsey Twins. Couples who dress alike look alike. Mrs. Johnston heard we were moving on. She asked if I knew where we’d get another engine. I told her at Williston.”

  “We need a change of scenery,” Judith said. “I’m bored watching birds try to eat thimbleberries that probably dried up a month ago.”

  Renie gazed out the window. “Are those thimbleberries or salmonberries?”

  “I don’t suppose they’d let me off to call Joe and ask if anyone’s lost a camera at the B&B.”

  “I think two of those birds are some kind of warbler.”

  “If we start moving, I’ll have to wait until we get to…Williston?”

  “Not warblers—more like buntings. We rarely see them at home.”

  “I don’t remember if Joe had any appointments today,” Judith said. “He and Bill leave tomorrow, so he may be wrapping up loose ends.”

  Renie’s nose was all but pressed against the glass. “Or some kind of thrush? It has to be a bird that doesn’t go south for—”

  Both cousins jumped as someone shouted, “All aboard!” Judith stared into the empty corridor. “Where’d that come from?”

  “Ah!” Renie pointed to the intercom. “The PA system works.” She poked a button to lower the sound. “We’re moving.” She waved good-bye to the birds.

  Judith sank back in her chair. “I wonder if Roy will ever be found.”

  “Work on it,” Renie coaxed. “You don’t want to disappoint Jax.”

  “I can’t do what I can’t do,” Judith said, and paused. “I suppose I could start by talking to other members of the crew, such as the conductor. We don’t know anyone else except Mr. Peterson and Jax.”

  “You know the waiters,” Renie reminded her.

  Judith looked uncertain. “The one who served us lunch was Earl, but I don’t remember the other names. He’s the only one I’ve actually talked to.”

  “Earl seems nice,” Renie said.

  “Yes, he does. Since we’re going slow, it’d be a good time to visit the dining car. The waiters are between sittings.”

  “They’re getting ready for dinner or taking a break,” Renie said. “Why don’t you play Log? Want to go for our kids’ record? It was nine minutes and…” She frowned. “I forget.”

  “Just as well,” Judith said wryly.

  “Williston, here we come. Leave the light on, but don’t wait up.”

  Judith opened the novel she’d brought along, a mystery set in Victorian England. The book had been recommended by a former coworker from Judith’s day job at the Thurlow Public Library. Before leaving on the trip she’d tried to get into the story, but Prince Albert as a time-traveling sleuth seemed implausible.

  She got to page 46 and started yawning. Renie looked up from her Roosevelt saga. “Are you going to sleep again?”

  Judith sat up straight. “I hope not. Prince Albert just ran into Charlemagne at a local convenience store in Scappoose, Oregon.”

  “No kidding. Let me know if FDR and Eleanor show up, especially if they’re wearing togas.” Renie went back to her own book.

  Judith was trying to figure out how the time travel novel had gotten published in the first place when Jax poked her head into the doorway. “Everything okay?” she inquired.

  “Just ducky,” Renie said. “How long will it take us to get to Williston?”

  “There’s been a change in plans,” Jax said, stepping inside the roomette. “We’re only going as far as Scuttle, twenty miles west of Malta. It’s not a regular stop, but the new engine is being brought from Williston because it can go much faster than we can. We shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours behind schedule once we’re under way. We’ll reach Chicago in plenty of time for your connection.”

  “Say,” Judith said, “did anyone turn in a camera?”

  Jax looked puzzled. “Not that I know of. Did you lose yours?”

  “It’s not mine,” Judith explained. “I packed it by mistake. It got lost in the luggage area downstairs when we collided with the truck.”

  “I’ll ask around,” Jax said, and hesitated. “Any ideas about Roy?”

  Judith shook her head. “Not so far. Was he married?”

  “Divorced,” Jax said. “He married very young. It didn’t last long and there were no kids. Roy went to work for Amtrak after the split-up. He wanted to get away. His father and grandfather both worked for the railroads, though Roy never intended to make a career of
it. But once he started, he discovered he liked it.” Jax looked sad. “I can’t understand what happened to him. Mr. Peterson says it’s as if Roy vanished into thin air.”

  Feeling guilty for not following through on what had happened to Roy, Judith changed the subject. “Has the man who caused the wreck been arrested?”

  Jax seemed uneasy. “Not yet, but Amtrak’s police have been notified.”

  “I know trains have police,” Judith said, “but do they ride along?”

  “Not as a rule,” Jax replied. “On this route, both Amtrak and Burlington Northern Santa Fe have their own law enforcement officers.”

  Judith indicated the wide, empty vista. “They’re not based nearby?”

  “No,” Jax said, “but they reach trouble spots quickly to start investigating the collision. Local authorities will take the driver into custody and charge him.”

  Renie shot Jax a sharp look. “You mean the lunatic’s still on the loose?”

  Jax smiled wanly. “I think the troopers were chasing him earlier.”

  “I don’t get it,” Judith said. “You mean he was left on his own?” Looking pained, Jax stepped inside and lowered her voice.

  “The pickup wasn’t damaged. It was on the clear side of the tracks, so the driver kept going. There is something odd, though.”

  “Isn’t the collision odd enough?” Renie remarked drily.

  Jax bit her lip. “I shouldn’t discuss this with passengers, but I can’t keep my mouth shut around you two.”

  “A common problem with my cousin,” Renie said, nodding at Judith. “Don’t fuss. She knows when to keep her mouth shut.”

  Jax looked relieved. “It’s like I’ve always known you,” she said to Judith. “You do have special powers.”

  “Not at all,” Judith said. “I’m not overly self-centered. I like people. I like to listen to them.” She smiled encouragingly.

  “What’s so odd?”

  “A crew member from this area said sugar beets are harvested in October, but he couldn’t think why a load of them would show up here. They’re grown around Missoula in western Montana, then shipped to Idaho refineries.”

  “That is odd,” Judith agreed. “I have a logical mind that has to make two and two equal four. When that doesn’t happen, I ask why.”

  “I know. Things should make sense.” Jax turned to leave. “My beeper went off. Somebody needs me.” She hurried into the corridor.

  “This is the real Wild West,” Judith said. “Or am I off base?” Renie smiled. “We live farther west, but I don’t equate our region with popular Wild West concepts. Maybe it’s our temperate climate. Or that the pioneers and the natives got along okay.” She shrugged. “Or the seafood.”

  “What?”

  “You know—the fish and crabs and clams and oysters. Our Native Americans didn’t struggle to find food. Neither did the early settlers. Who wants to kick the crap out of somebody else when you’re eating Dungeness crab or rainbow trout? And don’t forget our state motto, ‘Alki,’ Chinook jargon for ‘by and by’ or ‘don’t bother me while I eat these oysters.’”

  “You have the most peculiar ways of interpreting—” Judith stopped. “What was that?” she said, getting up.

  “That what?” Renie asked.

  Judith was already at the door, peering out into the corridor just in time to see Jax and Matt Chan hurry down the stairs.

  “Come here,” she said to Renie. “Somebody needs a doctor. Go see who and why.”

  “I’m your lackey?” Renie snapped. “I like my book, though I still can’t believe the DAR wouldn’t allow Marian Anderson to sing at Constitution Hall. I want to cheer every time I read how Eleanor Roosevelt arranged for Anderson to sing at the Lincoln Memorial. My God, the greatest contralto of the era—”

  “Stop!” Judith cried. “Something’s happening downstairs. Please—could you find out? I’d go, but I don’t dare.”

  “Okay.” Renie sighed, closed her book, got up, and exited. Judith went into the corridor to wait by the stairs. She could hear nothing further from below. Moments later, Laurie emerged from her roomette. “Any news?” she asked.

  “Renie’s checking,” Judith said. “Who’s got the medical crisis?”

  “Matt’s hero, Wee Willie Whoever,” Laurie replied. “The red-head who’s with him insisted someone tried to kill him earlier in the week.”

  “Oh, no!” Judith turned away from Laurie to hide her dismay.

  “Are you all right?” Laurie asked, sounding alarmed.

  Judith quickly composed herself. “I’m still rattled after passing out.”

  “Tell Matt,” Laurie suggested. “Maybe there’s a clinic nearby.” Judith was aghast.

  “I’m sure Matt’s right that it’s just stress.” And more stress, she thought, staring down at the empty stairs.

  “Where’s my cousin?”

  “I’ll check,” Laurie volunteered, but paused on the first step. “I didn’t mean for you. I meant if Mr. Superhero needs to be checked more thoroughly.”

  “Oh.” Judith watched Laurie disappear from view. Faint voices floated up the stairs, but none of them belonged to Renie. A woman sounded upset, though her words were inaudible. Whoever had been talking stopped. Judith decided to tackle the stairs. On the second step she was startled by a voice behind her.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Flynn,” the conductor said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you waiting for someone?”

  “My cousin,” Judith replied. “She went downstairs to find out what was happening to Mr. Weevil.”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” Mr. Peterson said grimly. “We’re lucky to have a doctor on board. And don’t mention the word ‘jinx.’ It’s already crossed my mind.” He forced a thin smile before hurrying downstairs.

  Judith knew the feeling.

  Indistinct voices again floated out of the stairwell. Thankful that the train was moving at a crawl, Judith took her time going down the steps. The lower level was deserted. The doors to both of the larger bedrooms were closed, as were the four roomettes between the luggage shelves and the accessible bedroom. Without checking each of the Vacant/Occupied signs, Judith couldn’t tell if anyone was using the shower and toilet facilities.

  “Coz?” Judith called in a low voice. “Coz?”

  She heard a noise in the corridor, but wasn’t sure where it came from. A moment later, she heard another sound, human and high-pitched. Whoever it was must be in one of the restrooms. As she moved closer, the last of the doors opened, and a little girl emerged. She was entangled in a roll of toilet paper that trailed behind her as she struggled to the family room.

  Renie staggered out of the same restroom. “Serves you right, Emily,” she yelled. “When you learn to read, your first word should be OCCUPIED.”

  Emily glared. “Shubbub!” A curly-haired young woman opened the door and grabbed the tot. “Bab lady!” Emily said, with a final dirty look for Renie.

  Judith turned to Renie. “Which of you took the best two out of three?”

  “It was a draw. The kid’s quick on her feet. I almost got caught listening outside the accessible bedroom, so I ducked into one of the stalls. Then someone banged on the door. I hadn’t shoved the latch all the way closed, so in comes Emily, who had to wee-wee. She managed that but had problems with the fifty yards of toilet paper she’d unrolled.” Renie gestured toward the family room. “Now I suppose her parents will finger me as a pervert.”

  Judith tried to look sympathetic. “I doubt it.”

  “No? My own kids reported me to CPS after I booked all of us into a motel with only two stars. They insisted it was cruel and unusual punishment. How could I help it if there wasn’t another motel within a hundred-mile radius? Then they argued that Bill was an unfit father for not driving three more hours to a motel that had at least four stars.”

  “The more I hear about your family vacations…” Judith shook her head. “Never mind. Did you hear anything about Willie?”

  “How? I was
trapped in the bathroom with a two-year-old virago.”

  “Maybe Emily’s on the case,” Judith murmured, studying the area. The stairs were in the middle of the car and the luggage rack was next to an outside door. Her suitcase and foldover were on top of several others on the middle shelf. Two facing roomettes flanked the accessible bedroom. The family room was at the opposite end. “Have we met any of the passengers from the other rooms down here?”

  “Don’t ask me,” Renie said. “You’re the social animal.”

  Judith moved closer to the stairs. “I shouldn’t be down here. I keep expecting Pepper to fly out of their compartment and hand me a subpoena.” She paused, tapping a finger against her cheek.

  “Do you know who’s in their room?”

  “Willie, Pepper, Wayne, Jax, the Chans, Mr. Peterson, and Mrs. Hat.”

  “Mrs. Hat?”

  Renie nodded. “She’s a nurse. I think she was checking her luggage when Matt was called. Now what?”

  Judith stared at the accessible bedroom’s door. “It’s not my fault Willie’s in bad shape. He’s spent a lifetime damaging his body with crazy stunts. I begged him not to jump out the front window and Joe tried to stop him when he was on the roof. Willie wouldn’t listen.”

  Renie looked annoyed. “Are you really feeling guilty?”

  Judith grimaced. “I shouldn’t, but Pepper could still sue me.” She checked her watch. “It’s three-twenty. Going this slow, it’ll take a half hour to reach Malta—or is it Scuttle?”

  “That’s where we get the new engine,” Renie said, turning toward the stairs. “Let’s go. I’m tired of standing here.”

  Before the cousins could move, the door to Willie’s room opened. Mr. Peterson came out first, followed by Jax and Laurie Chan.

  Judith realized she’d been holding her breath. Her shoulders slumped as the grim-faced trio approached. “What is it?” she asked.

  The conductor cleared his throat. “Mr. Weevil is ill, so an ambulance is meeting us at Scuttle. Phillips County Hospital is in Malta, just minutes away.”

  “What a shame,” Judith murmured. “Did he have complications?”

  “I’ve no idea,” the conductor replied, sounding faintly surprised. “Excuse me—I have to use the stairs.” With a heavy step, Mr. Peterson made his way to the upper level. A subdued Jax followed him.

 

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