Left to Lapse (An Adele Sharp Mystery—Book Seven) by Blake Pierce (book club suggestions txt) 📗

Renee into her voice. That quieted themboth and they stared like deer in headlights. “Tell me again, what happened?”

“Oh,it was horrible,” the woman in the scarf said; she’d given her name as Bella. “Well,”she said, drawling, “Richard and I were quite close to Margaret. Though she wasa frightful gossip, mind you.”

Richard,the handsome hunk, nodded along, smiling benignly.

“I’mreally quite upset by the whole ordeal—a death on the train. And you’re here,”Bella continued. “Which means…” she raised her eyebrows and leaned in a bit,her mink scarf shifting. “Murder?”

“Ican’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” said Adele, testily. She leanedback in the stitched leather padding of the rear-facing seat. A slow blur ofgreens and browns passed by outside her window as the train continued totrundle along, heading in the direction of the nearest station where theauthorities would be waiting.

“Well…Margaret was our friend. So if anything did happen to here, I feel likeI have a right to know!”

“Ican’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

“Oh,bother,” snapped Bella. “What good are you, then?” She slumped back, crossingher arms and jutting her lips in a pout. Seeing this, Richard leaned in andkissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, and Bella glanced toward Adele’s earsand gave a quick smirk.

“Allright,” Adele said, clearing her throat. “Maybe I wasn’t clear. I’m not here totalk to you. I need you to talk to me. What happened last you saw Margaret?”

Bella,though, pretended like she hadn’t heard, staring petulantly out the window.Richard, the quieter of the two, but seeming the more intelligent—or at least,more aware of impending danger—saw the lowering of Adele’s brow and the formingof her fist and quickly said, “Not much, she just left to go powder her nose,if you know what I mean.”

Bella,as if unable to avoid this line of speech, added, “We think she was going toget a drink. She was a frightful drinker, wasn’t she, Richard?”

“Quiteso.”

“Soshe went to get a drink, or to the bathroom?”

“Shewent through there,” Richard said, waving a hand airily toward the compartmentwhere the body still lay. “We heard a shout and got up to go check.”

“PoorMargaret,” Bella said slowly. “Imagine how her parents will react when theyhear the news. Killed on a train—so young. Probably drunk, I’d guess. And I’musually right about those sorts of things, aren’t I, Richard?”

“Yes,dear, yes, very.”

“Thedoctor on board didn’t mention any scent of alcohol,” Adele continued. “Did yousee anything else? Anything that might matter?”

Margaretand Richard shared a look, glanced back at her, and both shrugged. They beganto nuzzle again, with Adele still across from them, and Adele resisted the urgeto grab a nearby cup of ice from one of the server’s trolleys and toss it intheir direction. Instead, she reached out, snagged a water bottle, and tippedit back.

“Umm,sorry,” said a hesitant voice. “Excuse me, but those are for passengers only.”

Ayoung valet was frowning at her, wearing a red staff uniform and shaking hishead. An older man was watching the entire exchange from a window seat acrossthe aisle, seemingly trying to hide a smirk.

“Sorry,”Adele muttered, placing the bottle back on the cart. “Did either of you seeanything… useful,” she added, emphasizing the word.

Theold man was still smiling, and the young valet frowned at the sullied waterbottle, now placed among the other, unopened ones. Delicately, as if lifting asoiled napkin, he reached out with two fingers, plucked the bottle, and handedit back to her. “I suppose it’s all right just this once,” he muttered. “Justdon’t tell my boss—he’ll have my job.” This last part was muttered beneath theyoung valet’s breath.

“Oh—he’sa hard boss, is he?”

“He’sfine,” said the valet quickly, glancing sharply over his shoulder. Then theyoung man leaned in, whispering. “The woman you’re talking about, I saw her.She left the car, that way—” He pointed in the direction of the glass dividerseparating first class from the remodeled car with the body. “Towards therestrooms. Then I heard something break.”

“No,no,” the old man interrupted, shaking his head. “It was a scream. And I heardit too.”

“Youboth heard a scream?”

Thevalet hesitated, glanced at the old man, then shrugged. “I heard something.Those of us in earshot went to investigate, and found Margaret—that’s her name,right? We found her on the ground…”

Theold man was no longer smiling and he shook his head, staring out the windownow. “A true pity, that,” he murmured. “She was so young, so full of life.”

Thevalet, who couldn’t have been much older than twenty, nodded as well, shootinga look toward where Bella was now making out with Richard. His cheeks reddenedand he hastened quickly away, leaving Adele and her purloined water bottlesitting across the table from the two lovebirds.

Asbest as she could muster, Adele concealed her look of disgust, rose to her feet,and moved back through the compartment in the direction of the restrooms. Shepassed the body, pausing for a moment, alone in the still car and staring downat the unfortunate soul now turned a pile of cold sinew and flesh. She sighed,standing beneath the hatch they’d used to enter the train.

“Sorry,”she murmured, quietly, staring at the body of Margaret. “I’ll find him. Ipromise.”

Thenshe turned, heading in the direction the valet had mentioned—the restrooms. Shepushed through the door to the women’s, on the far side of the second car, justwithin the divider. She scanned about, but the restroom was clean and smelledfaintly of cinnamon apple candles, which were tastefully arranged around thesink.

Sheglanced behind the toilet bowl, in the sink, along the walls. No bloodsplatter—nothing illicit. No clue.

Adelefrowned, crossing her arms as she stood alone in the bathroom, its slightshaking responding to the motion of the train on the tracks.

Noone saw anything—one of them heard a loud crash, another heard a shout. Nophysical evidence on the body she’d been able to see. And the sense of forebodingwas now claustrophobic, practically smothering her like a blanket made of wetwool.

Shewas missing something… she had to be.

Butwhat?

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Johnmassaged the bridge of his nose, regretting his decision to switch with Limpythe Italian. The back of the train was where the staff hung out on break, andwhile John was glad he’d never learned German, he was beginning to wish he’dnever picked up