by Angie Fox
I slid two onto my plate.
“Six more sleeper cars are in the works. They’ll be adding each of them as they finish restorations, but it’s a small train to start,” Dave said. “They’re smart to be conservative. I think they want to get their feet under them.”
“I think it’s perfect,” Mary Jo said, digging her fork into the slice of cake. “And a wonderful way to meet people.” She nudged her husband.
He put down his book and held out a hand. “Dave Abel.”
“As in Abel Windows and Doors?” I thought he looked familiar. Now that he’d pulled his nose out of the book, I recognized that Jay Leno chin and ready smile from his regional commercials. Foley was only about an hour northeast of Sugarland. Abel did big business, especially in historic home renovations.
“That’s me,” he said. “Are you in the market?”
“Not everyone needs a door, hon,” his wife said as we shook his hand. His grip was strong. In fact, Abel was built like he’d worked a lot of restoration jobs himself. “Mary Jo,” she said, giving a little wave. “Ellis has already told us all about Sugarland and showed us pictures of your pet skunk.” She winked. “Such a cutie.”
I didn’t know how to respond for a moment. Was Ellis the cutie, or was my skunk? I wasn’t sure. And I certainly wasn’t used to people going out of their way to approve of our relationship. “Thanks,” I managed.
If Mary Jo noticed my hesitation, she didn’t make an issue of it. “It’s a small train, so we’ll probably be seeing a lot of you,” she added pleasantly. “We’re in compartment number 1. Number 2 as well,” she added, slightly embarrassed. “They made the two compartments into a double with a separate bedroom.”
Hey, I didn’t blame her a bit if she could afford it. This was obviously a passion trip for them.
“We’re in compartment 9, near the back,” Ellis said, pulling out our tickets. They were exact reproductions of the originals, down to the crisp linen paper, flowing script, and the ornate engraving of a vintage steam engine rushing down the tracks.
“The care taken with this restoration is amazing,” Dave said, leaning over to show Ellis a spread from his book. “This is the part I was trying to find. Now this is the original engine block…”
A cold hand rested on my shoulder, and I felt the wet, ghostly chill straight down my arm.
“I need to speak with you. Most urgently,” a voice rasped, causing goose bumps to erupt over my ear.
Darn it. Frankie hadn’t turned my power off.
I turned and saw a ghost with a white moustache that curled at the ends. A watch chain stretched from the side pocket of his vest. It ended in a bulge between two round shiny buttons at the front. He wore white shirtsleeves and a dark hat with a brim, and I didn’t mean to stare, but it had the words Sugarland Express embroidered across the front.
His pale eyes bored into me. “I know you can see me,” he insisted. “I watched you earlier, talking to those two troublemakers.”
That about summed up Frankie. I still had hope for Molly.
“Excuse me,” I said to Ellis and the nice couple as I slid out of my chair. “I need to take care of something before we go.”
The ghost standing at our table seemed to be a former train conductor. I had no idea what he could possibly want with me, but seeing as I planned to get on the Sugarland Express in less than an hour, it seemed like a good idea to find out.
A flicker of warning touched the back of my mind. I didn’t like going off with strange ghosts. Still, I was curious about what he had to say.
“This way,” I murmured, leading him back to the waiting room turned bar.
We passed underneath the archway, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him pull out a flask and sneak a hearty swig.
I was glad he wasn’t driving our train today.
“We have a problem,” he said, reaching for me.
I pivoted out of his way and wondered if he had control of his faculties. Ghosts never voluntarily touched the living. It was jarring for everyone involved. “What’s wrong?” I asked. Perhaps I could help him, although we were set to board at eight o’clock. That wouldn’t leave much time.
“I can’t take that train out again,” he said, looming over me. “Ever.”
“All right,” I said. Whatever had happened to him, it was over now. “You don’t have to ride the Sugarland Express tonight,” I assured him. “A living conductor has taken charge. Your journey is complete.”
“It is not,” he bit out. “You brought me back.”
Come now. I braved a step closer. “I hardly think it’s my fault.”
“You and everyone getting on that train,” he said, waving his flask.
“Listen—” I began, trying to think of a way to talk him down.
The ghost’s eyes hollowed and his voice drew low. “The Sugarland Express was a fine train. The best. Or so we thought. But she was heavy. On her maiden voyage in ’29, a bridge collapsed under her, and she plunged into the river below, killing everyone on board.”
Stars. “That’s terrible.” That part of Sugarland history had definitely gotten swept under the rug.
The ghost drew closer. “The wreck is still at the bottom of that river today. I stayed with it until every one of my passengers ascended to the light or moved on to haunt a better place. Finally they left me at peace. But now you’ve called me back.” His cold breath iced my cheek and shoulder.
“I think you’re taking this too much to heart.” He should be free. “This is a different train.” The first one was at the bottom of a river.
“The new owner salvaged the original bell,” he said ominously, “and they placed it on the locomotive of your train.”
“Well, that’s just one part,” I said, trying to ease his anxiety.
“It’s the soul of the train,” he snapped. “And the name: the Sugarland Express. They named it after my train. They made it look like my train. They’ve resurrected the spirit of the Sugarland Express.” He scrubbed his forehead with his hand. “That’s not all. We had a…distressed soul on board. If the Sugarland Express pulls out of the station this evening, I may not be the only one returning.”
That didn’t sound good. “Okay, well, help me, then. Tell me what to do about it.” There was no sense tempting fate.
“Destroy the new Sugarland Express,” he ordered, with the fervor of an old preacher. “Melt down the bell.”
“Um…” I didn’t see how I could pull that off.
I mean, I’d just gotten ahead financially after my last adventure. Destroying a multimillion-dollar train would definitely put me back in the red.
“Do it,” the ghost insisted. “Otherwise, it might be you at the bottom of that river.”
I studied the desperate warning in his eyes, the sheer terror written over his features. He’d suffered greatly. He was still dealing with the aftermath of the wreck.
Still, I didn’t see how a tragedy from 1929 could possibly affect a state-of-the-art train today. Yes, the new Sugarland Express had the name and the bell of the old one, but it also had all the latest equipment and conveniences. The bridge today would be inspected and maintained.
And as far as souls coming back, there was nothing I could do if another ghost from the past chose to haunt the new train. With any luck, I wouldn’t even see him…or her. I meant it when I said I’d decided to take a vacation from Frankie and his power. As soon as he unhooked me, I was done seeing ghosts on this trip.
Still, it hurt me to see this ghost suffer.
“Maybe it’s time to let it go,” I said as gently as I could. He needed to stop torturing himself. The wreck was tragic, but it was over and done.
His face fell, as if the battle were already lost, which I supposed it was. We couldn’t change the past.
“That last journey was tragedy from the beginning.” He closed his eyes briefly, all the fight draining out of him. “I should have turned back after the murder.”
Hold on. “Murder?” I
asked.
He gave a small nod, his focus drifting to the window. “We never caught the killer, and it was a heinous crime.” He cleared his throat. “Less than a day into the journey, the train got stuck in the mountains in a freak snowstorm.” He gazed at me with a haunted look in his eye. “While the train was stopped, a killer struck. A woman was found stabbed to death in her locked compartment. She looked a lot like you.”
This was getting worse and worse. “Now you’re just trying to scare me.”
“I wish I was.” The conductor removed his hat. “But it’s true. The killer was never found.”
“Well, at least we won’t be having any snowstorms on this trip.” In fact, I hoped the train had a good air conditioner.
The ghost eyed me warily. “The woman was killed while everyone on board was in the dining room. Everyone had an alibi.”
“It’s over now.” The killer was long dead.
Only I knew firsthand that death didn’t necessarily stop a person bent on justice…or vengeance.
“We never found any prints in the snow or evidence anyone had come inside.” He folded his hands behind his back. “We couldn’t get a signal out. The police department never got to investigate. I tried,” he added, his expression pained. “But there was nothing. No one. I’m responsible for the safety of the passengers under my care. I let them down,” he added quietly.
“There was nothing you could do.” It had been a tragedy, no doubt. But it was over now. The old Sugarland Express didn’t exist anymore. It was part of history, a forgotten one at that.
“You can still keep the train from going out again,” he said, getting agitated. “You can keep the passengers from boarding.”
I couldn’t stop a train. “You’re giving me too much credit.” I couldn’t tell people to avoid a vacation because of a murder and a wreck that had happened to a different train in a different age. Most of the hauntings I’d investigated had to do with ghosts clinging to real places and objects from their pasts. The original Sugarland Express lay rotting at the bottom of a river. “This isn’t even your train, not really.”
He drew so near I could feel the chill of him in the air. “Then why was I called back?”
The corner of his mouth tipped up as I drew a harsh breath.
His eyes narrowed. “There’s no getting around it. Set foot on the Sugarland Express and you’ll be boarding the ghost train as well. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I drew my shoulders tight and forced myself to calm. “It will be all right.”
“Tonight the cursed bell will ring again…”
I’d make Frankie turn his energy off. “We’ll get through this.” If anything happened, they needed Ellis and me on board.
Not that there was anything to investigate.
I’d lose my mind if I opened myself up to every past tragedy and every sad ghost.
He ignored my distress. “If you insist on going out, if you’re determined to begin the journey again, then know this.” He closed in. “It began with the killing. If you can stop that, maybe you can change the rest. Help me protect the passengers in the murder car,” he ordered. “We cannot allow tragedy to strike again in compartment 9.”
I stared at him.
“Promise,” he insisted.
I wanted to. I desperately wished I could make that vow and stick to it. Ellis and I were in compartment 9.
Chapter 4
I stood rigid by the vintage suitcases I’d found so charming only a short time ago. No wonder the compartment had been available. The owners had probably booked all the other ones first. Even people who didn’t have ghosts interrupting their appetizers could sense the paranormal. It was that prickling feeling on the back of your neck when you knew you were not alone, or the odd sense to avoid a darkened set of stairs. Most people learned to trust their instincts, and mine were telling me to stay far, far away from compartment 9.
I hurried back to the table and whispered the whole story to Ellis. And him being the man he was, he took immediate action. His call to the tour company was short and direct. When he hung up, he turned to me.
“They’re trying to switch us to a different sleeping compartment. We’ll know before the train leaves in a half hour.” He checked his watch. “Speaking of such, we’d better get going.” The Abels had already vacated the table next to us.
“Sounds good,” I said, winding my hand in his.
Not every guy would be so sweet about his girlfriend changing vacation plans based on a ghost sighting.
He touched my shoulder. “You okay?”
He really was handsome with his brow knit like that. I appreciated his care and the effort. Still, I couldn’t hide a wince. “We bought the last tickets available. It’s a full train.” He walked me through the open doors and into the main lobby. “I don’t know if there’s anywhere else they can put us.”
He gave a sharp nod. “We’ve done all we can. Let’s try not to worry about it.”
“I’ll do my best,” I said, letting him walk me past the long waiting benches. This was his treat, our chance to get away from it all. I’d already brought ghosts along. I hoped he realized how grateful and touched I was that he’d planned this getaway for us. We’d figure out a way to handle the issue with our sleeping arrangements.
I mean, the murdered ghost hadn’t come back to haunt the train. Well, as far as we knew.
Ellis opened the door for me, and we left the Last Stop Grill.
The new, modern train station stood just down the street. Ellis ferried us down and left me with the luggage while he returned the truck he’d rented for our one-way drive. Ironically, he’d rented the same type of Chevy pickup he drove at home. That was Ellis. He knew what he liked.
I took a seat on the metal bench out front and resisted the urge to call my sister, Melody. When she wasn’t at the diner, she worked part-time at the Sugarland library. Melody had all sorts of half-finished college degrees and was a whiz at research. If anybody could tell me the history of the doomed train, she could.
But I wasn’t going to get involved.
Still, I hadn’t met a ghost yet who’d appeared to me without a good reason. The old conductor had seemed genuinely worried, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that we might be headed for trouble.
It wouldn’t hurt to know what had happened.
I pulled the phone from my purse and dialed my sister’s number. She answered on the first ring, because that was Melody.
“Why are you calling me?” she asked by way of greeting. “You should be way too busy wining and dining.”
We weren’t on the train yet. “I want to run something by you…” I told her about my encounter with the ghost.
“Excuse me,” she said to whatever library patron she’d been helping. I heard a bump and a rattle, then the click of her heels as she walked. “Listen to me, Verity, and listen good. It doesn’t matter what happened on some train a hundred years ago. You are going to have fun. You are going to have romance. You will have the freaking time of your life, and that’s an order.”
“We are. I mean, we’ve already started.” Except for the issue with the ghost.
“You don’t need to get involved. You’re on vacation. Tell Frankie not to show you any more spirits.”
“I’m trying to avoid it,” I assured her, “but it won’t hurt to know what we’re up against.” I waited for her response and got none. “So can you look into the murder on that train? I’d also like to know more about the accident that killed all those people.”
“Oh, all right.” She sighed. “As soon as I finish helping Mrs. Porter with her genealogy project,” she added, the lilt returning to her voice. “It seems her great-grandfather, the pastor, had a secret family.”
“It’s always something.” History was rarely as neat as most people made it out to be.
We said our goodbyes, and I was about to tuck my phone back into my purse when I heard voices coming from the cobblestone alley between the train station
and the diner next door.
“Don’t you walk away from me,” a man threatened.
“I have my needs,” a woman snapped. “You have to let it go.”
I kept hold of my phone, ready to dial 911 for the woman as I peeked around the corner.
A blonde in a blue dress and sky-high black heels faced off against a guy who had the body of a quarterback and the snarl of a gangster.
Believe me, I knew. I’d seen plenty.
He loomed over her and curled a hand over her bare shoulder, a little too close to her neck. “You and I both know it’s not over. He can’t give you what you want.”
She looked at him for a long moment, refusing to back down or even flinch. “Are you saying you can do better, Ron?”
A vein bulged on his neck. “I’ll fix it.” He jerked back his hand and walked away, toward the street on the other side.
The woman exhaled and shook her hair from her shoulders. She was cooler under pressure than anyone I’d ever seen.
She’d stood up to a man twice her size. She’d come back at him while he’d had her cornered. And she wore heels on cobblestone. Talk about a force of nature.
I drew back before she saw me, and stood beside my luggage as she strode out of the alley and toward the Last Stop Grill. I kept an eye on her until she made it safely inside.
“Hey,” a voice said right next to me. I jumped. “It’s just me,” Ellis said, with a steadying touch on my arm. “Did you just see a ghost?”
It was a reasonable assumption, but, “No.”
“I got a call back from the tour organizers. We’ve been switched to compartment 10,” Ellis announced, pressing a tip into the hand of a young, skinny porter who began gathering our luggage.
“Fantastic,” I said. Ellis had come through again. I shouldn’t be surprised. Relieved was more like it.
“Compartment 10 is smaller,” he conceded, “and the bathroom a bit tighter. I’m sure the other couple will be pleased with their upgrade.”
I stiffened. “Other couple?” They were putting someone else in the hazardous compartment? Of course they were.