Ripe for Murder Page 23

  It seemed like forever that I clung to the side of the car, but the light slowly moved on and I managed a deep breath. In the quiet, I stepped down and considered my options. I was still reeling that I’d actually gotten someone to show up. Now that I had them, I just needed the police to arrive. I couldn’t see my watch, but surely it was near six.

  I’d started to retrace my steps when once again, steps came from the other side. Whoever it was hurried now and reached the caboose as I did. I peered around the corner of the caboose and made out a silhouette in the darkness. Whoever it was stood motionless, waiting as I was, for something to happen. It did.

  “Looking for something, Penny?”

  Thirty-one

  I STARTED to turn but the sharp end of something pierced my sweater in the back.

  “You don’t want to do anything too quickly right now.” My bag was lifted from my shoulder. “I feel a phone in here. Don’t worry, you won’t be needing it. All you need to do is get on the train.”

  I couldn’t recognize the voice through the wind, and turned my head slowly. The jab in my back became a searing heat. “I told you to get on the train. Now you’ve made me tear that nice sweater of yours.”

  I was bleeding. I just knew it. The world started to slant. “I’m bleeding, aren’t I?”

  “It’s nothing. Yet. Now get going.”

  As I turned the corner of the caboose, it was dark. The silhouette I’d seen earlier had vanished. I was propelled forward and grabbed the railing, pulling myself up onto the steps of the platform. There was police tape still across the railing, and an arm reached out, grabbed the tape and pulled it to the ground.

  “You know we wouldn’t be here if you’d only accepted that your friend was a murderer.”

  I knew that voice. I was so close . . .

  “Oh, look, the safety chain is closed.” A soft chuckle as the arm reached around me to click open the lock. “You can’t be too careful with these things.”

  This was the second time I’d heard those words spoken, and from the same person.

  “Jim, what are you doing?” My heart thumped in my ears and my voice was far away. “Why would you kill Tara?”

  “Don’t worry. You want to know everything so damn bad, I’ll make sure you get all your facts straight, right before you can’t do anything with them.”

  “You need to tell me if I’m bleeding. I have to sit down. I can’t do blood.” My throat was tight.

  “What’s the big deal? It’s only a scratch.”

  Keeping the knife in place, he moved to my side and opened the caboose door. “Get going.”

  I moved through the caboose, past the spot where I’d found Chantal unconscious. Pushing open the door, I moved into the next car.

  He stopped in front of the bar. “This is good.” He moved in front of me, dragging the knife across my side and to my abdomen before he pushed my back into a waiting chair.

  “So, where do we start?” He set the knife on the bar and reached for a bottle from the top shelf. “Might as well go for the good stuff.”

  I felt better once I took a seat and my head cleared. It was only a scratch. Only a scratch. A glance at my watch confirmed it was shortly after six. The police must be on their way.

  He broke the seal of the bottle. “I should have known it was your idea to send me that note. Okay, why don’t you tell me what you found, Ms. Detective.”

  As he tipped the bottle for a swig, there was movement behind him. Bill walked slowly toward us from the next car.

  “I didn’t find anything, but I knew the murderer couldn’t take that chance,” I said.

  Bill stopped right behind Jim and picked up the bottle of whiskey.

  Jim laughed. “Not bad. I suppose you’re feeling pretty clever right about now. Or would be, except you’re the one bleeding all over the upholstery.”

  I sat up. There was a small stain on the upholstered chair. I touched my back and when I pulled my hand away, my fingers were sticky.

  My heart started jumping around. “I’m bleeding. I knew it.”

  “I barely nicked you. Relax.” He jutted his chin out and studied me. “Wait a minute. You’ve got a blood phobia. Not a good thing to have if you’re going around butting in where you shouldn’t be.”

  Bill raised the container. I kept my eyes on Jim, not wanting to warn him of what was coming.

  “Yup,” Jim continued. “I suppose you think you had us pretty well cornered.”

  Us? I stared slack-jawed at Bill and moaned as he tipped the container to his lips.

  “What?” Jim pointed to Bill and started laughing. “You think he was going to rescue you or something? That’s rich.”

  “Jim, knock it off. I don’t like this.” Bill wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Oh, come on.” Jim waved an impatient hand. “You knew what was going to happen.”

  “Not here. Not on my train.”

  “Why?” I turned to Bill. “I don’t understand what you hope to gain.”

  “It isn’t what he hopes to gain,” Jim said. “It’s what he was afraid he might lose.”

  “But Tara wanted to invest. She was thrilled to be here.”

  “No. Nope.” Jim took another swig and waved the bottle through the air. “I guess you aren’t as clever as you thought. See, you bought Tara’s murder the same way everyone else did. Only it wasn’t murder.”

  “What do you mean? Someone threw her off the train. I saw her body on the tracks. That much at least I’m sure of.”

  Jim waved away my comment. “The only reason everyone accepted it was murder was because the safety gate was locked when the body was found. I told you that myself.”

  I thought back. “You did, didn’t you? That morning when I found you and Kim at breakfast, you made a point of saying Tara’s death had to be murder because if it had been an accident, the safety gate wouldn’t have been secured. But it was.”

  He smiled. “Very clever. Now, keep going.”

  I stared at him until the answer came to me. “You locked it? She fell off the train and you locked the safety gate behind her?”

  He clapped his palms together slowly. “I knew you could figure it out. I took a perfectly good accident and turned it into murder.”

  “That’s enough, Jim,” Bill said.

  “Don’t worry. She won’t be repeating any of it,” Jim said.

  “But why would you let him do such a thing?” I turned to Bill.

  Bill raised a fist to his forehead as though trying to push away the memories. “It couldn’t be an accident. I couldn’t afford to have it be an accident.”

  “An accident would have been better than murder!”

  “Not to my insurance. Not to my investors. A murder could happen anywhere, and this way the company wouldn’t be held responsible. I couldn’t afford the negative publicity, the bad press. Worse, the accident was a safety violation. I might have lost the line, and if I didn’t, my insurance would have come after me personally. I’m the one that didn’t secure the gate. It came down to losing everything”—he gestured at Jim—“or this.”

  “Oh, come on, Bill, this hasn’t worked out so bad.” Jim smiled. “Of course, I knew the train had some safety issues. It’s my business. I can look at a train and see deferred maintenance. That morning I just got lucky and saw something else through the caboose window. I saw Tara hit Chantal.”

  “We all just assumed the killer knocked Chantal out,” I said.

  “I know,” Jim said. “It’s been so hard to keep quiet. You thought you were all so clever. After Chantal hit the ground, Tara dug something out of Chantal’s pocket then went back onto the platform to throw it away.”

  “The note telling Chantal to meet someone in the caboose,” I said. “Tara wrote it.”

  “Yep. I got a chance to read it late
r, when things calmed down,” Jim said.

  “How did you get it?”

  “Let me tell it.” He was enjoying this. He took another swig and wiped his mouth. “So, Tara goes out onto the platform to toss the note off the train and drops it instead. Right there, at her feet on the platform. She was drunk from lunch. Remember her husband telling her to lighten up on the booze?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “She should have listened. Anyway, she bent over to pick it up, leaned against the platform gate and whoosh!” Jim slid his palms together. “Right off the back.”

  “What happened then?” A cold sweat dotted my upper lip.

  “Then it was easy,” Jim said. “I ran through the caboose and grabbed the note, slammed the safety gate shut, this time with the safety pin in place, and got back out in no time. I figured that without the note and Chantal lying there, out cold, she’d be the main suspect, and she is.” He shrugged. “See, I wasn’t sure at the time how I could use Tara’s death, but it seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. And if nothing came of it other than a little confusion, then no harm.”

  No harm? He was crazy.

  Bill grabbed a towel from behind the bar and pushed it between my side and the chair. “Let’s go. I don’t want her bleeding all over the train.”

  My mouth went dry. Perfect. I was going to bleed to death. So much for unfounded fears. My face felt clammy and I closed my eyes.

  “Quit talking about blood,” Jim said. “She looks ready to pass out. Would you just relax? We’ve got a couple more minutes.” Jim scratched his chin. “Where was I? Oh, right, the safety brake. I needed Chantal found in the caboose to have her taken seriously as the suspect, so I had to draw someone’s attention to her and Tara lying on the tracks. I pulled the brake, never thinking it would throw those tablecloths and chairs to the floor of the caboose, blocking Chantal in and making her look even guiltier. I think you pointed that out, Penny.” He tipped his head toward me. “Mighty helpful of you.”

  “But why?” I struggled to understand his motive. “What did you gain?”

  Jim sighed. “Don’t you get it, Penny? What I gained was leverage.”

  “Over Bill?”

  “That’s it.” Jim turned to Bill, who stood spinning a coaster on the counter. He saw me watching, and with effort pushed the coaster away.

  “It was all on the line for me, Penny,” Bill said. “After Tara was killed, I wanted everyone to quit talking about the murder. I needed it all to just go away. Let Chantal get accused. Big deal. She had her mother’s money to get her out of it. But you wouldn’t stop bringing it up. To the other guests, to the investors. I wanted you to just shut up. I tried to scare you, first on the bike path, then at the winery, but you wouldn’t leave it.”

  A lump grew in my throat. “So you killed Kim, thinking it was me.”

  Jim laughed. “Try again.” He pointed at Bill. “It was him, all right, but he didn’t kill the wrong person. No, he got that part right, perfectly. All along it was supposed to be Kim.”

  I froze at Jim’s words. “What? This was all about killing your wife? I can’t believe it. You seemed so in love.”

  “Yeah, I’d been laying it on pretty thick this trip, and at one time we were in love; we really were. I’m sure you know she held the purse strings. She never made it a secret, and lately she’s fought me over every nickel I wanted to spend. It was getting old.” He tilted the bottle to his lips. “I had a couple of investments go belly-up. So what. That could have happened to anyone.”

  “So you decided to kill her. It’s as simple as that.”

  “I wouldn’t say it was all that simple, but, for the most part, that’s about it. I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment. A time when I’d have a foolproof alibi, and that took some planning on my part.” Jim raised both palms. “I mean, how could I have been the one to kill her? I was playing bocce ball with Connor when she died, remember? I have a hotel full of eyewitnesses that will swear I didn’t go anywhere near the spa. ’Course, I got lucky too. I mean, there I am on the train, the only passenger able to actually see all the safety violations, and lucky me a drunk passenger takes a spill off the back of the caboose. I couldn’t have asked for a better opportunity.”

  I turned to Bill. “Somehow they’ll figure out it was you who killed Kim.”

  Bill started pacing, but Jim laughed. “How? Bill had no reason to kill Kim. None whatsoever.”

  Bill grabbed the bottle and tipped it back. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Keep them talking. Just keep them talking. I shook my head at Jim. “I’m so glad she went without knowing you were responsible. Her own husband.”

  “Hey, I wouldn’t have needed to kill her if she’d been more reasonable.”

  Bill moved behind me and pushed me forward. “Damn. You’re making a mess.”

  “How bad am I bleeding?” I felt lightheaded.

  “Enough.” Bill pulled me to my feet, and I leaned against the bar. “It’s time to move her. I mean it.” He pointed to the cushion. “How am I supposed to get that out?”

  Jim gave a dismissive wave. “So get rid of the chair.”

  “The police better not find any trace of her being here.” Bill paced between the chair and the bar. His voice was tight, and his hand was shaking as he wiped the bandanna across his forehead.

  “It doesn’t matter to Jim what happens to you or this train,” I said. “He’s done with you. Now you’re just as much of a problem as I am.”

  Bill stopped and turned his eyes to Jim. “You know, if I even thought for one minute . . .”

  “Don’t let her get to you,” Jim said. “She’s just spouting off.”

  “Think about it,” I said. “You’re the only one besides me that knows the whole story. Sure, you killed Kim, but Jim is the one who benefits. He’s the one that planned this. Maybe he decides it’s cleaner if neither one of us is around.”

  “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Let’s go. The sooner we shut her up, the better.”

  Bill massaged the back of his neck. “Now that you’re not the one talking, you want to get going? Maybe I want to hear what she has to say.”

  Jim pushed himself away from the bar and started to stand. “And I say it’s time to wrap this up.”

  “You sit back there and relax. I need to think about what I want to do next.”

  “Or else what?” Jim gave Bill a quizzical look, one eyebrow raised.

  “Or else I might be rethinking my next move. If the police do find anything that leads back here, whatever I go through, I won’t be going through it alone.”

  Jim dismissed Bill with a wave of his hand. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make threats. See, there’s only one person on this train who’s actually killed anyone, and it isn’t me.”

  “But I think she’s onto something,” Bill said. “I think she’s right. Maybe I did kill Kim, but you’re the only one that gained from it. And in reality, Tara falling off the train really was an accident, right?” He looked at me for a response.

  I nodded my head.

  “So maybe I could say I was coerced by you. Maybe the only thing that will happen to me is that I lose the train. I mean, sure, at first I was willing to go along, but this isn’t what I thought it was going to be. If I tell them everything, they’ll listen.”

  Again, he looked at me, his eyes pleading for me to agree. “I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration, right?”

  I nodded. Sure. That and the fact that he was out of his tree.

  “Well, isn’t that something,” Jim said. “Now you’re going to bare your soul and hope the police believe you. It’ll be your word against mine, I guess.”

  “No. Penny heard everything you said too.”

  “Well, then, I guess Penny can’t be around to back you up.” It took a moment to grasp the meaning of his wor
ds, long enough for him to grab the knife and step toward me. I tried to back away and instead landed in the same chair I’d been in earlier. Jim raised the knife over his head.

  “No!” Bill grabbed the whiskey and swung it, catching Jim in the center of his back. The bottle shattered. Glass and whiskey rained down on me, and I covered my eyes. I froze, afraid to look, then heard heavy breathing and realized it was me. Biting my lip, I peered around my fingers. Jim was sprawled at my feet. He was facedown and completely still.

  Bill calmly reached up and grabbed another bottle from the shelf. As he broke the seal, he prodded Jim with the tip of his work boot.

  “I think he’s dead.” I sounded pretty calm, all things considered. “You should roll him over and see.”

  With a sigh, Bill grabbed Jim by the arm and rolled him over. Jim’s head lolled to the side.

  “He fell on it. You saw it too,” Bill said.

  The knife was firmly lodged in the center of Jim’s chest. The dark stain spread.

  “Not on my train. I told him I didn’t want any blood on my train.”

  The world tilted to the side, and everything went black.

  Thirty-two

  SOMEONE slapped the side of my face.

  “Stop that. It hurts.”

  “She’s coming around now.” I recognized Antonia’s voice and opened my eyes.

  I was in the same chair I’d passed out in. Antonia held a cloth to the back of my neck, and Connor spoke with Chief Harding on the other side of the car. I turned my head slowly to one side and looked down. Jim was under a sheet.