by Molly Fitz
“It is romantic,” I said, cuddling into my jacket and scooching around in my seat until I found the most comfortable position.
We both watched the rain for some time, and beyond that, the rolling hillside of whichever state we were steaming through now. Probably still Maine, or perhaps we’d made it to New Hampshire or even Massachusetts by now. I’d almost drifted to sleep when Octo-Cat hopped up onto the seat beside me and then climbed onto my lap, a rare move from him, indeed.
“Are you worried about meeting your family for the first time?” he asked as he padded my lap with his front paws to increase the comfiness before settling down to relax. He almost never asked how I was feeling. Normally he just told me—yes, told me how I was feeling. I decided not to point that out and just enjoy his concern. After all, I really did need someone to talk to about this.
“It’s weird,” I admitted, pensively stroking the fur at his neck. “I always thought I knew who I was and where I came from, and then suddenly it’s all wrong. And the weirdest part is that I never would have known if Pringle wasn’t such a sticky-fingered snoop.”
As much as the raccoon irritated me, I would forever have him to thank for finding and revealing the truth about my mother’s—and consequently, my—heritage.
Octo-Cat purred in a way that told me he could only be thinking of his new lady love. He still appeared to be paying at least some of his attention to me, too, so I asked, “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”
“Shoes?” He huffed at the suggestion. “You’re such a human.”
I couldn’t tell whether or not this was intended as an insult, so I kept mum. I was incredibly human, after all.
He stopped purring and crossed his forelegs in front of him. “It’s different for cats. It doesn’t really matter where you came from. Only that you turned out right.”
Such a simple thought, but a nice one. Sometimes I really liked his way of looking at things.
“Cats don’t see their families again after we’re taken away. I mean, I guess strays and alley cats might.” He stopped to shudder at the thought. “But what happened with Nan and your mom, that’s really normal for cats. We are born to our cat family but then taken away by our human family, and that’s where we stay.”
“So what are you saying?”
“Nan is your human, and she’s a good one. Things could have been much worse.”
He was right about that. Sometimes my cat was so smart, and other times he stared at the wall for no apparent reason. He was weird, all right, but luckily our weirds matched just perfectly.
And with that thought, I drifted off to the sound of his purrs.
Chapter Five
The continuous song of the rain and the unexpected bliss of kitty cuddles lulled me to sleep right where I sat. I dreamed I was Anne of Green Gables taking that first fated train ride that would deliver her to the Cuthberts. A nice dream, considering Anne was one of my all-time favorite heroines.
The lovely dream came to an abrupt end, however, when a horrible shriek rent the air and four sets of claws dug deep into my lap.
“Ouch, careful!” I cried, shooting to my feet so fast that Octo-Cat fell to the ground.
He immediately popped back to all four feet and stood with his tail drooping toward the ground and his neck stretching toward the roof. “It’s my Grizabella!” he said, his ears twitching like satellite receptors. “She is in trouble. We must go to her.”
The shriek shattered the night once more, and I realized then the scream was, in fact, feline and not human. That didn’t make it less frightening, but it probably meant that most other passengers would choose to ignore it.
“It’s this way,” Octo-Cat cried, pouncing toward the door that led the opposite direction from whence we’d come. I assumed this led to the fancy sleeper cars, the ones we couldn’t quite afford but that I had no doubt Rhonda Lou Ella Smith could.
My cat was too worked up now to stuff him back in his carrier, so I grabbed it and ran after him.
He stopped at the door and shouted, “I’m coming, my darling! I’m coming!”
The shriek sounded again. This time it was accompanied by the words, “Hurry!”
I had no idea what we were walking—or rather running—into, but it definitely sounded urgent. We passed through two sleeper cars, then opened the door to the third. When we entered, we found the wailing Himalayan pacing the hall.
She ran straight up to us and nuzzled Octo-Cat’s face. “Thank you for coming so fast. My mistress… She—Oh, gosh. It’s too horrible to even say!”
Octo-Cat appeared momentarily tongue-tied, so I took the lead.
“Can you show us?” I asked, holding my hand out to show her I meant no harm.
Grizabella took a quick sniff and then turned, her poofy tail held high while the rest of her quivered with fright.
The tabby and I followed her into one of the private rooms. The door was already cracked open, and inside our new friend Rhonda lay in a creeping puddle of blood, her flawless cream suit stained almost beyond recognition.
I brought both hands over my mouth to keep from crying aloud when I noticed one of the steak knives from the dining car sticking straight out of her stomach, where she had apparently been stabbed multiple times. But why hadn’t she cried out? Surely, she would have screamed loud enough to awaken me from my dreams.
On shaky feet, I tiptoed across the soiled carpet, careful to avoid the encroaching red stain, and bent down to feel for a pulse. When I couldn’t find one on Rhonda’s wrist, I tried her neck, hoping beyond hope…
Her lovely pearl necklace with the gold pendant was gone. Had the murderer taken it? Did they kill this poor, kind woman just so they could rob her? The thought made me blindingly mad.
I shook my head as I turned back toward the cats. “I’m so sorry,” I told the distraught Himalayan.
“Oh, why? Why?” she ground out. “Why musts humans only have one life? And why must Rhonda’s have come to an end so suddenly?”
Oct-Cat pushed his face against hers, and the kindly nuzzle did appear to offer some comfort. Poor, poor Grizabella.
Even though she was still shrieking and asking various permutations of the question Why? I knew I needed to find out what she’d seen and if she had any idea who could have done this… and yes, why.
“C’mon. Let’s go out into the hall,” I said, not wanting to hang out around a dead body any longer than we had to. I made sure the door wasn’t locked, and then shut it gently behind us. “Grizabella, did you see what happened?”
She shook her head and squeezed her blue eyes shut tight. “Only after. Not during.”
“Where were you when she was attacked?” I pressed, already seeing she would be a difficult witness to question. It was to be expected for a cat, especially one in the throes of an emotional meltdown.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she sniffed.
Well, that direct refusal raised more than one red flag. I’d investigated cats as possible suspects before. Would Grizabella prove to be the culprit in her owner’s murder, too?
“Please,” Octo-Cat chimed in, finding his voice acting the role of my partner once more. “We’re here to get justice for your human, not to judge.”
“Promise not to tell anyone?” Grizabella asked with a sad sniff.
“Of course we won’t tell,” I assured her, and not just because anyone else I talked to about this case would immediately dismiss me as a quack if I started sharing the cat’s alibi.
“I was in the little kitty’s room, using my box. I heard someone enter and speak with Mistress just as I was in the middle of… Well, you know. The sounds were muffled, I didn’t know what she said. I waited in the other room until I heard the stranger leave, not wanting to have to play nice with any other humans for the night. No offense, but you were already more than enough for one evening.” She turned toward me and crinkled her nose. Ugh, cats were so rude sometimes.
“Go on,” Octo-Cat urged with a
tenderness he never assumed when speaking with me. “What happened next?”
Grizabella gasped, remembering. “When I came out, Mistress was covered in blood and her skin had already started to turn cold.”
I briefly wondered if I should pet the Himalayan to try to calm her down, but that didn’t seem like the best idea, considering she’d barely tolerated her beloved human’s touch.
“Wow, that’s a lot to take in,” I said instead. “If you don’t mind, let me ask a few follow-up questions. First, didn’t you hear Rhonda—I mean, Mistress—scream?”
“No, she did not scream or even sound upset.” The set of her jaw and the firmness in her eyes told me she had no doubt about this.
“Okay. You referred to the stranger as a she. Does that mean the person who entered was a woman?”
“Oh, darling, I don’t know. All humans look and sound the same to me.” At least I’d been upgraded to darling, although I suspect she might use the same pet name for the help as well—well, if she could. She did seem to understand that I wanted to help and had begun to cooperate a bit better.
“That’s what I always said, too,” Octo-Cat said with a hum. “Until I got to know them a bit better.”
“Yes, I did notice your human can talk,” Grizabella said gracefully lowering herself into a sitting position. “Why is that? And don’t you think it’s just a tad suspicious?”
He shook his head, immediately coming to my defense. “She’s here to help. We both are. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help us figure out what happened to your human?”
“Well, I know what happened. She’s dead.”
Great. We had a dead body that so far only I had discovered, and the only witness was a spoiled purebred who couldn’t really tell us anything, anyway. This case would be almost impossible to solve before the train arrived at the next station and the proper authorities had a chance to take over. Should I still try, or should I quietly alert the staff and do my best to secure the scene until help arrived onboard?
Our train passed through a tunnel, turning the night sky even darker than before. I caught sight of heavy stone walls from the hall window and shuddered. It felt like we were passing through a tomb.
How fitting.
I pulled out my phone to check the time. Just past four in the morning. We didn’t have any stops scheduled until seven thirty. Could we make it three and a half hours with a fresh corpse on board? And who should I tell given that the entire train seemed to be fast asleep?
The light flickered overhead and then blinked off with a startling pop. Oh, great, electrical problems were exactly what we needed now. Well, at least things couldn’t get much worse, right?
This was always a bad question, whether or not I asked it aloud.
Because at that exact moment, the train grinded to a stop right in the middle of that dark, tomb-like tunnel. We were stuck in the countryside with a murderer—a violent murderer—on the loose, and I couldn’t even see the hand in front of my face.
How very perfect.
Chapter Six
I pulled out my phone to activate the flashlight. Sixteen percent battery life remained. I really needed to invest in one of those portable chargers in case I ever again found myself trapped on a dark train with a violent killer in the future.
You know, providing I survived this time…
A giant shudder racked my body as my phone chimed merrily into the silence. It’s ringing!
Fumbling, I answered the call and raised the phone to my ear with shaking fingers. My mother’s voice burst through the speaker.
“Angie! Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Mom,” I cried. Normally, I was pretty cool under pressure, but this time I couldn’t help it. Seeing Rhonda’s butchered body up close and now being trapped in the dark right outside the door that led to her corpse, it was too much for me. It would be too much for anybody.
This wasn’t my hometown. In fact, I didn’t even know where we were on our journey from Maine to Georgia. I didn’t know the other passengers and had no idea which of them might be a killer. There was no one to trust.
No one except my cat and my parents.
“What’s wrong? Tell me how to get to you,” my mom shouted into the phone, instantly sensing something was wrong and thankfully not forcing me to say anything more until she could first make sure I was safe.
“Past the dining car. Past the viewing car. In one of the private coaches. Hurry.” I didn’t have to tell her to bring Dad, because I knew she automatically would. Maybe between the three of us, we could straighten this mess out. Of course, there would be no way to save poor Rhonda Lou Ella Smith. Not anymore.
I sank to the ground against the wall and hugged my knees while waiting for my parents to make their way back to us. I’d be the calm, rational detective later. Right now, though, I needed a few minutes to feel my emotions so that I could work through them and let them go.
Something furry brushed against my arm in the darkness.
“Why are you crying?” Octo-Cat asked me curiously. “You don’t cry.”
“It’s the dark. I think it’s making everything so much worse,” I sobbed while groping for him. As soon as my hand made contact with his fur, a bit of my bravery returned. We’d been through all kinds of dangerous scrapes before, but we’d always made it through. Together.
“The dark isn’t so much different than light. Right?” He moved away, and I shivered from the sudden absence of his warmth.
“Maybe for a cat. Humans don’t have night vision like you do.” While I explained this, I was struck with an idea. The two cats were the only ones on the train who could see without the assistance of a flashlight, which meant they were the only two who could sneak around without attracting attention.
“Octavius, Grizabella,” I called to them, not sure how close either was to me at the moment. “Can you two explore the train a little? See if you can find anyone suspicious?”
“What makes a human suspicious?” the Himalayan asked in her soft, melodic voice from across the dark car.
This was good. Focusing on the investigation helped to push the fear aside. Worry would only throw me off my game, and I needed all my wits about me, considering one of my senses had already been all but disabled.
“If they have blood on them for one. This person might also be sneaking around or searching for something. We still have no idea why someone would kill Rhonda, so until we figure that out, we need to look for general clues. Got it?”
“We can handle that,” Octo-Cat assured me, his voice a bit deeper than normal, which I assumed was some part of his misguided flirtation efforts. “The only problem is we need a human to open the doors between cars.”
Oh, right.
Just then, as if on cue, the door to our car opened, and my parents rushed in, their path illuminated by the sweeping of their twin phone lights.
“Turn one of those off,” I hissed. “We need to conserve battery power. We have no idea how long we’ll be stuck out here in the dark.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you, too,” my mom scoffed.
I forced myself to my feet, keeping one hand on the wall to steady myself. “Mom, Dad. There’s been a murder.”
“What? When?” my dad demanded, surging forward and lowering himself to inspect me.
“Right before the lights went off and the train stopped.”
My mom dropped to the floor, too, and hugged my head to her chest. “Oh, Angie. It’s not safe for you to be back here on your own.”
“Well, now you’re here, so I’m fine. See?” I forced a smile, but Mom’s light was focused elsewhere.
“I can’t see much of anything at all,” she grumbled.
I untangled myself from her arms and sat up higher. “Listen, Dad. Can you go find someone who works for the train company? Let them know we have a dead body back here and that it was definitely a murder. Call Mom if they need more details. My phone is almost dead.”
“Sur
e,” he answered, his voice sure, unafraid. “But what will you two do?”
“Do you even have to ask?” Mom said, and I could picture her with one hand on her hip and her eyes narrowed even though she still sat on the floor beside me.
“Solving the murder,” he responded with a knowing chuckle. “Got it. Just be careful.”
Mom pushed herself to her feet, leaving her light on the ground beside me. “You, too. I love you too much to lose you.” After my mom said this, a sticky smacking noise filled the car. Of course.
“That goes double for you two,” my dad answered before switching his phone light back on and leaving me and my mom behind to take care of business.
“Wait!” I called just before the door latched closed behind him. “Follow him,” I told the cats. “Dad, take it slow at the doors. The cats are going to follow you to see if they can find anyone acting suspiciously.”
“Roger that.” My dad probably saluted, but I couldn’t quite see due to the angle of his light. My mother had told him about my strange ability long ago, but he’d never worked with me and Octo-Cat on a case before. I liked how he agreed to my request without arguing or questioning it.
“When he comes back, you two come back, too. Okay?” I told my cat.
Octo-Cat’s brown-striped body moved into my dad’s spotlight, and he turned back to regard me with a frown. “Angela, please,” he hissed. “I’ve got this. Ladies first, Grizabella.”
The Himalayan walked ahead confidently, tail and nose both held high. The door whooshed shut behind them, and they were gone.
“Show me the crime scene,” Mom said, not wasting even a single second. I may be the family P.I., but she was an ace reporter who loved solving mysteries, too. We’d only worked together a little before, but I sure was happy to have her on my side now.
The last of my tears having spilled, I pulled myself to my feet and directed Mom’s hands—and thus her phone light—toward Rhonda’s door. “In there,” I whispered.
I kept my hand on hers, and we pushed the door open together. This time, I knew what we would find, which made it a bit easier to head back inside despite the pitch black that enveloped everything.
