Dead Man's Tunnel
Page 26
“Thanks for the help, Eddie.”
“And, just so you know, the board’s decided you had no business giving away railroad property without permission. It will be coming out of your paycheck.”
“What the hell was I supposed to do, Eddie?”
“And that yodel out of Ash Fork dropped his assault case against you.”
“Hoffer?”
“He couldn’t get his lawyer paid. Just be thankful you didn’t get another Brownie out of this, Runyon. Hadn’t been for me, you’d be sleeping under a bridge.”
* * *
With gas can in hand, Hook swung off the work train at Yampai siding. He waved it off and walked over to the popcar. The desert morning crackled with sunshine, and the smell of creosote rose up from the steeping ties. The cuts on his neck tightened when he lifted the gas can, and the sounds of Edgeworth running into that tunnel came rushing back to him.
He set the cap and cranked over the engine. Blue smoke drifted off as she choked down. He cranked again, and she struggled back to life.
After pushing the car out onto the main line, he secured the switch and climbed aboard. He’d checked for clearance and had plenty of time before the Super Chief came through on its run west.
Mixer had taken off yet again that night, and Hook hoped to call him in at the trestle. Leaning back, he watched the scenery slide by. Riding a popcar into the desert came as close to freedom as a man could expect in this life.
When the tunnel opened up in front of him, he idled back. The clack of his wheels resounded in the darkness as he moved into the mountain. As he rounded the midtunnel curve, his scalp crawled. In that place, he’d come as close to death as he cared to remember.
The sun fell warm on his face as he emerged from the tunnel and brought the popcar to a stop just short of the trestle. From there he could see a staff car parked at the bottom of the guardhouse steps.
* * *
Lieutenant Capron came to the door. Her copper hair lit in the sunlight, and her smile broadened when she recognized him.
“Hook,” she said. “Come in. I’m in the process of closing out the guardhouse.”
Hook stepped in past the lieutenant, her perfume lingering after him.
“Thought it might be you,” he said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk that night,” she said. “There were calls and things that had to be done, as you can imagine.”
Hook sat down at the table. “What happens now?” he asked.
“I’m being transferred to Command,” she said.
“So, it’s the army for you, is it?”
She shrugged. “It fits me, you know, and things will be changing, for women I mean. I’d like to be part of that.”
Hook ran his hand through his hair. “How’s the foot?”
“Oh,” she said, turning her ankle. “Better.”
“About Ballard’s engine?”
“The program has been suspended,” she said.
“Because of the risks?”
“No. Something about the weight and tractive-force ratio not working. I don’t really understand.”
“And what about Edgeworth, Ballard, Captain Folsom?”
Allison walked to the window and looked down on the canyon.
“Captain Folsom died in the line of duty like so many others have. Ballard, according to the coroner, suffered heart failure back in Schenectady. And, as you know, Edgeworth is just a name stolen from a dead man.”
Hook rose from the table. He studied the lieutenant against the morning light. “And the bo?” he asked.
“He couldn’t be identified,” she said.
“Then none of this ever happened?”
She turned. “No. It never happened. And what about you? Where do you go from here?”
Hook lit a cigarette. “I’ve a dog to chase down and then Eddie has something doing in Albuquerque.”
She came across the room. “Maybe someday I’ll take you up on one of those book hunts.”
“I know just the place,” he said.
* * *
Hook sounded off his best whistle, and it wasn’t long before Mixer came bounding out of the canyon.
“I ought to make you walk,” Hook said.
Mixer wagged his tail, piled onto the popcar, and flopped down for the ride.
Hook cranked up and moved out onto the trestle. He looked back to see the lieutenant standing on the guardhouse porch watching him.
He throttled up for the run home. There were lots of things in his life he would like to pretend never happened. This wasn’t one.
ALSO BY SHELDON RUSSELL
Dreams to Dust
Empire
Requiem at Dawn
The Savage Trail
Hook Runyon Mysteries
The Yard Dog
The Insane Train
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DEAD MAN’S TUNNEL. Copyright © 2012 by Sheldon Russell. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover photographs: tunnel © Sura Nualpradid/Shutterstock.com; railroad © Martin Horsky/Shutterstock.com; town © ilolab/Shutterstock.com; soldier © TJ Scott; dog © Ann Clarke Images/Getty Images
ISBN 978-1-250-00100-9 (hardcover)
ISBN 9781250010582 (e-book)
First Edition: June 2012