Murder on the Sugarland Express

by Angie Fox

  Virginia had reproduced the doomed train down to the last cup, glass, table, chair, and cursed bell. Even the bottles behind the bar lined up.

  What should have been a triumph made my stomach sink.

  This was where the passengers of the ill-fated train had laughed and drank and toasted their journey to death.

  The ghostly conductor hovered at the far end of the car. “Hurry,” he pressed.

  “Of course,” I said, but as I pressed forward, the hollow thunk of a bottle hitting the floor stopped me in my tracks.

  My gaze shot to the bar, where all of the bottles appeared to be in place.

  Then I heard the rhythmic thunk-thunk-thunk of a bottle rolling and saw it advancing down the center aisle, directly toward me. I held my breath as it stopped cold at my feet.

  At least it was real.

  I blew out a breath and picked it up. It felt icy against my hand. Perhaps it was merely a chilled bottle of white wine that had become dislodged in the commotion.

  I could set it right and be on my way.

  “Miss Verity,” the conductor urged.

  I forced myself to remain calm. “Coming,” I said.

  With shaky hands, I placed the bottle on the bar. Then, with a nod to the ghost, I pretended it was perfectly normal when the door between the cars slid open on its own.

  I followed the glow of the conductor as he guided me through the dark space between the cars.

  The emptiness of the train pressed at me, and even though I knew there were people stranded in the dining car and that Ellis and others must be up ahead, I felt very much alone.

  The ghost jolted, as if he’d seen something or heard something.

  “Hurry,” he pressed. He doubled his speed, and I struggled to keep up, following the light of the ghost as he sped through a domed observation car. Where modern trains simply had seats, this car featured plush couches in rows, with wide windows that curved up over the seats to form a clear glass roof. The night sky glinted above us.

  He was moving too fast.

  I slammed out of a passenger car and into the void between. A shadow rose up out of the blackness and grabbed me.

  “Help!” I screamed as an iron grip drew me closer.

  I knew better than to run headlong through the dark after a ghost, especially with a potential saboteur on board.

  “What are you doing?” the stranger demanded. It took me a second to recognize it was Virginia.

  I was almost happy to see her.

  “Someone broke into the radio room,” I said, grabbing hold of her arms. “They’re tearing it apart. Where’s Ellis?”

  “With the conductor. There’s a problem on the tracks.” She pulled away from me and bent down, coming back up with her cell phone light on full glare. “You made me drop this. We’re lucky it didn’t break.” She shone it on me. I held my hand up and blinked against the sudden brightness. “How do you know there’s trouble in the radio room?” she asked, as if I were under interrogation.

  “A ghost told me,” I snapped, ready for her to dismiss me.

  “Let’s go,” she said, thrusting the door open behind her. “Three cars up. It’s a communications station now. I have the key.”

  “Let’s hope we need it,” I said, pushing ahead of her.

  I had to give her this: Virginia was pragmatic. I, on the other hand, seemed to have learned nothing from my vast experience running headlong through haunted places.

  We passed through the library car, Virginia’s light bouncing off hardwood bookshelves as well as a large picture window. A pair of plush reading chairs flanked a table topped with a bust of Edgar Allan Poe. I had to come back here.

  From there, I hesitated before a narrow hallway with no windows on either side. “Crew compartments,” Virginia said, her voice hushed. “We’re almost there.”

  We pressed on.

  We had our saboteur directly ahead of us. Trapped.

  Unless he’d already gotten off the train.

  “Here,” Virginia hissed, pushing open a small door to our left. I held up my tray, ready to defend us. Virginia shone her light inside and gasped.

  A laptop computer lay crushed on the floor. Next to it, several smashed black boxes bled green processing boards and tangled wiring. An antique hardwood desk, built into the wall, bore scratch marks from the destruction.

  Virginia uttered a curse I’d never heard her use before. “That was our state-of-the-art communications system.” Her hand shook as she shone her light over the destruction. “I can’t believe this.”

  I bent down to inspect the damage closer, careful not to disturb it. “Do you have any idea who could have done this?”

  “No,” she shot back.

  The room was so small I could have spread my arms and touched both sides. There was nowhere for the perpetrator to hide.

  He had escaped. Or perhaps he hadn’t been flesh and blood to begin with.

  The overhead lights snapped back on, startling us both.

  I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the brightness.

  Virginia drew a hand to her chest. “It’s impossible to count on cell phones or other wireless technology this far into the mountains, so we installed our own hotspot, along with a backup radio,” she said, locating it with her toe among the rubble. “We had our entire comms system in this old radio room.”

  And now it lay smashed on the floor.

  “Is there any other way to contact the outside world?”

  She gave a shaky nod. “Of course. The conductor keeps a radio in the control room.” She stiffened and then dashed from the doorway of the radio room. I was right on her heels.

  We ran past the conductor’s sleeping quarters and into the control room of the locomotive.

  The ghost conductor stood next to the main panel at the front. “You’re too late,” he said, as if it were my fault, as if I could have prevented any of this.

  I saw what I assumed had been the radio receiver torn from the panel.

  “Now we are in trouble,” Virginia said, her voice stark.

  All right. I blew out a breath. Think.

  The headlamps on the locomotive shone out ahead of us, where Ellis and two other men worked together to push a small boulder off the tracks.

  “Is that what stopped us?” I asked.

  “Rocks fall onto the tracks. It’s rare, but it happens,” Virginia said, without relish. “The driver saw it and was able to stop.”

  “We stopped too.” The ghostly conductor looked out the window to the men on the tracks. “It didn’t keep us safe for long.”

  That was enough. At least for me. I didn’t know what was unfolding here, but it wasn’t worth risking our lives. “We need to head back,” I said, “put this engine in reverse and get out of here.” We were less than a day into the trip. Kingstree was a lovely town. I wanted to get back there as soon as possible.

  Virginia glared at me. “You’re out of your mind.”

  No, I was scared. Virginia had cursed our journey with her obsessive historical preservation, although I didn’t think she’d want to hear that, especially from me. “Our comms system is down. I’m sure the passengers would understand.”

  “That we quit our maiden voyage?” Virginia snapped. “I think not.” She leaned close. “You need to learn the value of tenacity, my dear. It does apply to more than your shameless pursuit of my son.”

  I wasn’t going to dignify that with a debate.

  Instead, I forced a brittle smile. “Ask Ellis if he minds,” I said, slipping out of the cab and down onto the tracks.

  “Get back here,” she hollered. “We need to guard the radio room.”

  I’d leave that in her very capable hands. Besides, there was nothing left to smash. I needed to see what we were up against.

  It didn’t take the men long to notice me hobbling along the rock-strewn rail bed in heels.

  “She’s injured,” Ellis’s stout companion declared, his eyes catching my stained dress.

  “
It’s just red wine,” I called out.

  The air was hot and filled with swarms of tiny insects drawn by the lights.

  Ellis reached me first. “You should get back on board. This isn’t safe.”

  “Well, it’s not so safe on board, either,” I said, not as long as someone was desperate enough to sabotage our trip. Ellis gave me a quizzical look as a second man reached us. He was in his mid-forties, fit, with a short brown beard shot through with gray. “Verity Long,” I said, holding out a hand.

  He took it. “I’m your conductor, Eric Manning.”

  Yes. I’d seen him earlier when he made his lovely toast to our trip. “There’s something you need to know.” The third man, whom Ellis introduced as the engineer, joined us, and I told them about the willful destruction of the communications system, leaving out any mention of the ghost. I’d tell Ellis that part later.

  “Whoever did it must still be on board the train,” Conductor Manning said. “There isn’t a road or town around for miles.”

  “They could be hiding anywhere out here,” Ellis said, eyeing the woods near the tracks. “I hate to say it, but this might not have been an accidental rockfall. You said yourself the boulders could have been placed there. For all we know, our vandal had transportation out of here.”

  “I didn’t hear any motors,” Manning said.

  Ellis sighed. “I didn’t, either.”

  The driver scratched his chin. “If a vandal wanted to do damage, he’d have placed the rocks on that bend up there. With the boulders on the straightaway like they were, I was able to see them and stop.”

  “Besides, why would someone sabotage a passenger train?” Manning added, looking from Ellis to me.

  That was the million-dollar question.

  “We should head back to Kingstree,” I told them. “I said the same thing to Virginia.” I didn’t mention she’d disagreed. She would make her position clear enough. I had a feeling she’d only stayed back to keep an eye on her locomotive, but it wasn’t like I could keep her out of the discussion for long.

  “I’ll make that decision,” Conductor Manning said.

  Yes, well, I hoped he made the right one.

  The engineer nodded, deferring to Manning. “I’ll get underneath and double-check the brakes,” he said, “and make sure we didn’t damage them on the stop.”

  “Good.” Manning looked back at the cleared tracks. “Care to walk ahead with me?” he asked Ellis. “Make sure everything looks good? Maybe check out some of the areas around the track.”

  Ellis nodded, his hand absently going to the gun he kept tucked in a back holster. “Climb on board,” he urged me, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  “Sure,” I said. I’d just join his mother again. No doubt she’d be thrilled to see me.

  I retreated toward the train, realizing I’d also ruined Melody’s heels in the rocks. Thank goodness I had an understanding sister, although I would replace both the dress and the shoes, even if my bank account wouldn’t appreciate it.

  Dull light shone from under the bottom of the locomotive as the engineer began his safety check. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Ellis’s and Manning’s flashlights drawing farther down the tracks. The line of vision was good here. We had been lucky. I turned and walked backward, watching them.

  “Verity,” said a voice behind me, causing me to trip for a moment over my own feet.

  The heels didn’t help, either.

  I turned and saw Molly just off my right shoulder.

  “You scared me.” She should know better than to sneak up on me like that. That was her boyfriend’s job.

  She’d arranged her hair into a stylish twist, with a few stray wisps floating in an unseen breeze. “Frankie’s going to kill me for telling you this, but I was heading back from the powder room when I saw something suspicious.” She led me back toward the train. The lights of the locomotive caught her silvery form, almost obliterating her from sight.

  “Was it a live person damaging the train?” I asked, leaping over the side of the tracks, following her.

  “Worse,” she said grimly. “I saw a dark, menacing shadow,” she warned, “entering compartment 9.”

  Chapter 9

  I made my way back through the train, glad for the lights this time. There was no one in the library car or the observation car or anywhere else up front at the moment.

  The place felt strangely empty, but at least I wasn’t jumping at every shadow.

  “This is not the same train as before,” I reminded myself.

  Only I could see the eerie ghostly overlay of the doomed train, so similar to the new one. It glowed stark and clear in the dark. Which was probably why I liked the lights so much.

  Keep it together.

  There was no tragedy attached to this trip, no murder on board, nothing to suggest tonight’s incident was anything other than a close call triggered by someone who might not have Virginia Wydell’s best interests at heart.

  The list would be long on that one.

  I mean, if we were going to suspect anyone with a grudge against the queen bee of Sugarland social projects, we’d have to add about ten more cars to the train to fit them all on board.

  I entered the bar and found it occupied. A balding bartender in a smart navy jacket poured a Manhattan through a cocktail strainer while a waiter loaded a glass of red wine onto his tray.

  The two appeared startled to see me. I was rather a mess.

  “Goodness. Have you been up there all alone?” the bartender asked, placing a skewer with three dark cherries on top of the drink.

  “You look like you’ve been through the wringer.” The waiter handed me a towel from the bar. As if that would scrub red wine out of silk.

  “Thanks,” I said, appreciating the effort. I made a few dabs for show. “Virginia Wydell needed me,” I added, not going into details. But I did have a question. “Have you seen anyone else come through here since the lights came back on?”

  “Just you,” the waiter said.

  “As soon as we had power back, Beau Wydell sent us up here,” the bartender added, accepting the towel back from me. “He figured the passengers could use some liquid courage,” he added, holding up a glass to me.

  I liked that offer better than the towel, but I had work to do.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” I said, on my way again. “I have to go.”

  I passed into the darkened area between the cars and nearly jumped out of my skin when Molly’s head popped out of the door leading to the dining car.

  Her skin glowed white. Her eyes burned with excitement. “We need to hurry if we’re going to save the girl in compartment 9!”

  “All right,” I told her. “No need to jump out at me like that.” Frankie made a habit of it, and I’d had enough heart palpitations. “We need to keep our wits about us. That shady-looking ghost you saw might be an official occupant of compartment 9.” It wasn’t like the dead woman could claim sole ownership. There could be plenty of spirits on board, and it never paid to assume anything about a ghost you didn’t know. I’d learned that the hard way. If Frankie were here, he’d tell her the same thing. “Where is Frankie, anyway?”

  Molly waved off my concern as she glided ahead of me down the hallway. “He thinks he can distract me with some big romantic surprise in our room.” She skimmed a hand along the nape of her neck and sent her dark hair flying. “I’m not allowed in right now.”

  No wonder she’d been wandering.

  “Where are you two staying?” I asked, passing the galley. They’d closed the door and hopefully cleaned up the knives.

  “He’s turned the caboose into quite a love nest,” she said, with a wriggle to her hips.

  It had to be better than Frankie’s last attempt. “We’ll call him if we need him,” I said, giving pause at a flurry of agitated voices from the dining room.

  The discourse rose in pitch and volume as I stepped out into the chaos.

  The f
loors had been cleared of dishes and debris, but the tables were still a mess of half-eaten plates and toppled stemware. Passengers huddled around tables and in groups, talking and clutching stiff drinks.

  “There you are!” Beau said, standing up from a chair near the front. “What happened? Where is my mother? And Ellis?” he asked, looking past me. “You left me to deal with this alone.”

  “It’s not my train,” I said, navigating through the tense seating area. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

  “What happened up there?” Beau pressed, sticking close to me.

  “There was a rockfall on the tracks,” I said, raising my voice so the other passengers could hear. “We stopped just in time. The train is fine. In fact, the brakes worked perfectly,” I added, watching my fellow passengers relax at the news.

  They didn’t need to know we had no communications system anymore.

  “Thank God,” Beau said as I located Molly at the back of the car and headed for her. He sidestepped a chair to keep pace with me. “Will you look at me for a second?”

  “I have to keep moving,” I said. “I’m following a ghost.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “At a time like this?”

  “Tell me about it,” I said. As if I could explain about the trouble in compartment 9 to him of all people. Then again, this was as good a time as any to tell him the truth. I drew him to a private spot near our ruined table and kept my voice low. “A woman was murdered in your room back in 1929, shortly before the original Sugarland Express crashed.”

  He held up a hand. “It’s a different—”

  “The bell is the same. The spirit is the same. The ghosts are in a tizzy,” I told him. “You gotta trust me on this one.”

  Beau broke out into a grin. “Is this the kind of crazy stuff you tell my brother?”

  He wasn’t listening. “I’m trying to warn you. It’s why Ellis and I switched cars.”

  His smile faded. “I shouldn’t have let you on the train. I hated seeing you with him at dinner tonight.”