Murder on the Orient Espresso(72)

The space was empty, of course. Once I checked that one, though, I felt like I had to do the others, just to be sure. I went down one side of the car and into both shower rooms, my still-damp sandals echoing on the tiles. Then I worked my way back up to the space where Potter’s body lay.

I slid open the door and, holding my breath, stepped over the two frosting smudges and into the room. Potter was on the bunk, of course, faced away from me like he was still just napping.

I tiptoed nearer, still trying not to breathe, and—

‘Maggy?’

I jumped back and turned, raising the gun, which was now moving in sync with my shaking hand. ‘Holy shit, Missy! You scared me to death. What are you doing in here?’

Missy looked hurt. ‘Well, I knocked on the door to give you this, but I didn’t hear any answer.’

She was holding out an e-reader. ‘I’ve got a ton of books loaded on it and I figured it would help you pass the time. Oh, and I also put a “Keep Out” sign on the other side of the door.’

My heart-rate descended toward quasi-normality. ‘Thanks, Missy – that’s very nice of you.’ I took the reader. ‘And I’m sorry I yelled. And, well, almost shot you. I must have been at the other end of the car checking the showers when you knocked.’

‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry,’ Missy said, her eyes welling up. ‘But when you didn’t answer, I was worried.’

‘I appreciate that. I was just making sure everything was secure.’

She glanced over at the bunk, her nose wrinkling and her next words a little strangled. ‘Can we get out of here?’

‘With pleasure.’ I let her precede me out the door. ‘And thank you again.’ I held up the e-reader.

Missy smiled. ‘You’re welcome. Come to the door and call out if you need anything.’

‘I will. Thanks.’ As she turned away, I couldn’t resist saying, ‘I noticed you talking with Pete. He seems like a nice guy.’ Unlike Danny. ‘And really good-looking.’

‘I suppose, but too young. And a waiter.’

My, my, but the younger generation was picky. ‘Everyone has to start somewhere.’

Missy sniffed. ‘His real name is Brandon. I saw him at the restaurant last week and asked if he’d like to earn some extra money.’

‘That was smart.’

‘You’re telling me. You know how much it costs to hire a professional bartender? And I bought all the liquor at Costco.’

You had to give the woman credit. She knew how to stretch a dollar. I hoped it wouldn’t come back to bite her in the form of lawsuits by the passengers on the train and even the train company itself.

Which was another reason I’d wanted out of event planning: the liability if something went awry. At least I’d been bonded and had a corporation standing behind me. If I were Missy, I wouldn’t expect a whole lot of support from Zoe.

After the young woman left, I settled onto the floor. Propping the gun against my right thigh, I picked up her e-reader.

She wasn’t kidding about the books. A ton of them and, in the mix, some of Rosemary Darlington’s.

Including … I scrolled down. Yes, Breaking and Entering.

Leaning my back against the wall, I punched up the book cover. Steamy, in itself. A woman in red leather, a dog collar around her neck and a whip in her hand. A man’s naked body was half-hidden in shadows, the glass of a broken window on the floor nearby.

I looked around guiltily, like I was twelve and reading the early scene in Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, where Sonny and the bridesmaid … well, you know. I clicked to the next page. These e-readers were great – convenience, discretion, and they couldn’t accidentally fall open to the spicy pages you’ve read. And reread.

The first chapter was a lot of set-up. I yawned, resisting the urge to peek ahead.

Kat opened the door, knowing what she wanted but not if she had the nerve to take it. He was lying on the bed facing the window, his skin glistening in the moonlight. The edge of the white sheet revealed his firm, naked glutes. Kat wanted – she desperately needed – to run her fingers along the curve of them.

As Kat reached out, the man roused. Stepping back, she watched from the shadows as he rolled onto his back, sending the sheet slipping to the floor.

Kat nearly gasped aloud. She moved forward, waiting for him to settle before she let her nails barely touch, tracing his mustache and lips. The curve of the neck cords to his throat.

Thud-thud, thud-thud, thud …

The pulse suddenly stopped under her fingertips.

Panicked, Kat laid her hand flat against his chest. She was praying now, to feel something, anything inside.