Murder on the Orient Espresso(28)

‘Not as “twisted” as I’d like to be,’ I said, sliding even closer. ‘Bet even Rosemary doesn’t have any wings in her boo—’

‘Have you seen Zoe?’ Prudence was standing at our table now, fingers twisting in the ropes of princess pearls around her neck. ‘Missy is going batshit because she can’t find Larry.’

And these people called themselves mystery writers? The train was four cars long, not counting the locomotives – first and last – so how tough could it be to find someone?

I had a thought. ‘Maybe Larry’s standing in one of the vestibules between cars smoking. I saw him grab the matches when he got up from our table.’

‘Great,’ Prudence said. ‘Markus is done with his soliloquy and we’re all supposed to gather here in the dining car before trooping back to solve the crime. Wait a minute.’ She squinted at Pavlik’s nametag. ‘“Ratchett.” Aren’t you supposed to be dead?’

‘Zoe didn’t give me the—’

‘Well she should have,’ Prudence said, looking more like the imperious Princess Dragomiroff. ‘How are we supposed to view the body in the sleeping car if you’re out here, obviously still alive?’

‘Well, I don’t know. I—’

Raucous laughter erupted from across the way. Grace/Greta was trying to climb up onto the table in a manner not befitting her role. In fact, the blouse and skirt somehow invoked more Naughty School Girl than Swedish Lady.

‘Damn it,’ Prudence said. ‘We need to get some food into these people.’

‘There’s cake,’ I said, watching Grace gain her footing and release her hair from its bun, shaking out the wild curls like Raquel Welch in One Million Years B.C.

‘To be served when the crime is solved, from what I understand,’ Pavlik said. ‘Though maybe if you ask Missy—’

‘Any sign of Laurence?’ It was Missy herself, magically appearing but looking concerned.

‘No, but Zoe went to check the bathroom,’ I said.

‘I’ve already done that.’ Tears were welling up in Missy’s eyes again. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for her. ‘Twice.’

‘OK, let’s look at this logically,’ Pavlik said. ‘He has to be in one of these cars. You’re just missing him because people are milling around.’

A whoop came from the unincorporated mob as Grace slid butt-first off the table.

‘We’re coming to a stop already,’ Missy said as Prudence shook her head in disgust. ‘Now the rear locomotive will pull us back the same direction we came from.’

Since there were no lights outside to judge our speed by, I had to take her word for it.

‘So, are there two engineers, or does the guy in front have to come through the train to get to the other locomotive?’

‘Oh, dear,’ Missy said, putting her hand to her face. ‘There is no interior connection. Our engineer is a lovely older man – retired, in fact, and a bit eccentric. He’ll have to go out in this rain and wind. We didn’t think of that.’

‘Would you like me to go out and check on him?’ Pavlik asked.

‘That’s so kind of you.’ Missy was trying to peer out the window. ‘I’d be afraid, though, that you’d miss him somehow and accidentally be left behind. The Everglades is a dangerous enough place in the daytime. At night, and in this weather?’ She shivered.

I was right there with her. Meaning inside the train was safe and sound, which is where I wanted Pavlik to stay.

But I knew the sheriff wouldn’t be deterred by concern for his own safety, especially when somebody else might be in danger. It wasn’t in his DNA. I wasn’t sure I had that kind of grit myself – to run toward disaster, rather than away – but I was very grateful there were people like Pavlik who did.

So, I tried another tack. ‘You’re right, Missy. We certainly can’t chance losing your main forensics speaker. There would be no one to teach the panels – or workshops – tomorrow.’

Pavlik looked at me.

‘Imagine the disappointment if you didn’t show up,’ I said to him. ‘You know, to teach killing and guns and bullets and such.’

‘Oooh, that reminds me.’ Missy turned away from the window to address Pavlik. ‘Did you bring your own weapons or do you need mine?’

‘You have … weapons?’ I asked.

‘Of course,’ the two of them chorused.

‘I meant Missy.’ When it came to Pavlik, personal experience had taught me that asking Mae West’s come-hither question, ‘Is that a pistol in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?’ wouldn’t get me the answer I’d hoped for.