Left to Lapse (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce (book club suggestions txt) 📗
- Author: Blake Pierce
Book online «Left to Lapse (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce (book club suggestions txt) 📗». Author Blake Pierce
They all stayed low, hunkered down as the train movedthrough the tunnel and then burst out the other side.
And like that, they were amidst the trees and sunlitforests, and Adele could breathe a bit easier. She sat up slowly, feeling thewind brush across them, and pointed toward the hatch in the top of one of thecars.
John and Leoni both nodded. The Italian agent was stillwincing, and John was massaging the crook of his elbow. Together, the three ofthem moved along toward the hatch, which John opened.
First Leoni, then John, and Adele, at last, dropped downinto the compartment through the hatch.
Her feet on solid ground once more, the sound of the windsuddenly shut out by the insulation of the cabin walls, Adele could hear herown breathing, coming heavy. The other two gasped raggedly, and Leoni winced,stepping delicately on his ankle. John continued to massage his arm, shakinghis head and muttering, “That was fun, wasn’t it?”
They stood in the compartment that looked to bemid-remodel. There was no furniture and the walls themselves were bare as ifthey were simply in a moving steel box. Adele stared towards a lump in themiddle of the room, beneath a white sheet.
“John,” she said, hesitantly.
Renee glanced over, frowning, then spotted the source ofher attention. He muttered to himself but moved forward, and with his footnudged the edge of the fabric. A cold hand jutted out from beneath the sheet.
“I think that’s our body,” Adele said, shivering. Normally,corpses were removed before she reached the scene, or if they were still there,the coroner would be as well. But in this case, with a moving crime scene, thepolice hadn’t managed to reach the train yet. No access roads. Hence the stuntwith the helicopter. Which meant that no one had touched the body—at least notyet. No one except the killer.
Adele glanced around the bare compartment, toward the glowof light coming through the reflective glass divider at the back. Through it,she could see faces peering into the car where they had landed.
She glanced at the Italian agent and muttered, “Are youokay?”
Leoni winced and tested his leg, pressing it against theground and hissing through his lips. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered. “Thanks,” headded, glancing at John.
“Whatever,” Renee muttered. “You’re fine—I got your back,just try not to screw anything else up.” Then he turned promptly away from theItalian and began to march across the compartment toward the glass divider withthe faces peering into the car.
“This should be interesting,” Leoni muttered to Adele, hiseyes tracking the lanky Frenchman.
Adele sighed and shrugged, but then winced sympathetically.“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Leoni hesitated. “I should be fine.”
“Need a hand? You could balance on my shoulder.”
John looked back from where he’d paused in front of thedivider, frowning. Agent Leoni noticed this and just said, “No, I should befine, thank you.”
Adele nodded, watching as the Italian began to limp alongafter John toward the divider between the cars. She regarded the lump beneaththe thin sheet for a moment, frowning in thought. And then, with a sigh, shefollowed after the two men. The killer was still stuck on the train with them.One of the faces staring out at them, perhaps? Someone hiding? The train wasabout an hour away from the nearest station. An hour to solve this. An hourbefore the German authorities got involved. An hour before the passengers wereallowed to disperse, or escape.
***
Theman with kind eyes peered over the shoulders of the other gawkers at the threenew arrivals on the train. He’d heard the helicopter, glimpsed it through thewindow. Now, he spotted three new passengers, all of them with the physiquesand intense scowls that might accompany law enforcement.
Hadthey really rappelled in?
Hecursed to himself. He’d intended to disembark at the next station, making goodhis getaway in the crowd. Already, he’d planned out three routes of exit incase the authorities tried to sequester the train. But now, on the move in the wilderness?A much harder feat.
Thekind-eyed man listened to the murmurs and mutterings of the passengers aroundhim. He tried to look sufficiently surprised himself.
“Whodo you think they are?” one was saying.
“Ithink I heard a plane earlier,” another replied.
“No,they’re maintenance. They came from the service hatch. Probably just here totake care of the body,” another said.
“Thatwoman,” a third added. “I think I recognize her from the papers. Isn’t she theone who landed that plane on the autobahn?”
Achorus of conversation followed this final comment, accompanied by themurmurings like a bunch of clucking hens.
Thekind-eyed man resisted the urge to grab one of the chickens and wring theirnecks right there. No, he needed to keep a low profile, to blend in. Threewolves had wandered into the chicken coop, but he was in sheep’s clothing—he’davoided capture so far. He refused to feel afraid. Not for these newarrivals—feds by the look of them. Not for the passengers around him. Not foranyone. Fear was for the uninitiated.
Heglanced through the window at the passing terrain—the train had slowed now.Could he possibly leap from the locomotive? Get a running start?
No.Not yet. Too conspicuous. It would be like sending a flare declaring his guilt.Besides, it wasn’t like they knew. How could they? He’d beencareful—covered his tracks. Moved from train line to line, country to country.Careful, planned, inconspicuous.
No,they were simply ruffling feathers. Trying to spook him to scamper. But he knewbetter. He wouldn’t bite.
Andso he stood shoulder to shoulder with the sheep in the first class, watchingthrough the divider into the second compartment as the three new arrivals movedtoward the door.
Hecould just faintly hear the helicopter now in the distance, disappearing. For amoment, one of the figures stopped in the compartment. An attractive woman,with shoulder-length blonde hair and a runner’s physique. Her eyes… though.Something about her eyes reminded him of himself. A fire there. A vengeance.
Thoseeyes settled on him for a moment, staring at him through the window of thedivider, it seemed. And then she looked away, gesturing at the two men tofollow as they approached the first-class car, leaving the body beneath thetarp on the cold floor behind them.
CHAPTER
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