Murder Train: A Bakery Detectives Cozy Mystery

by Stacey Alabaster

  "I know this is going to sound kind of crazy, but you haven't seen a strange man, have you? You aren't harboring him in your windmill, are you?"

  "Oh, why don't you two girls come in for some homemade cookies and lemonade!" she exclaimed, not quite answering my question. "Oh, I've got plenty to go around. Even though we've got a bit of a full house today, there's plenty of room for you as well!"

  She was friendly, that was for sure. If two strangers had turned up at my door, there was no way I'd be inviting them for cookies and lemonade.

  I looked over at Pippa. What if Julian is waiting in there, ready to jump out and murder us?

  Although that was what we were there for.

  Pippa shrugged. She mouthed something back to me that looked like, "I'm starving."

  I was kind of hungry too. The train restaurant hadn't been open because this was only supposed to be a 'short trip.' Ha.

  "A full house?" I asked. That was interesting.

  Ana nodded. "Yes, my two daughters, and my husband who's just come in from mowing the fields."

  "Oh." I was a little disappointed.

  "And we also had a very strange visitor just drop in," she said, furrowing her brow. "Quite a foreign, exciting sort of man."

  I grinned at Pippa. Julian. That sealed the deal for me. "We'd love to come in for a while, thank you."

  Ana led us down a long, narrow hallway which we only barely managed to squeeze through, even going single file. "I told you it would be hard for a family to live in a windmill," Pippa said.

  "But we manage it!" Ana, who was already ahead of us in the kitchen, sung out.

  We arrived a few seconds after her, to a very full room.

  And an all-too familiar face.

  My heart sunk to my stomach.

  "Geez, you two ladies took your time."

  Great. It was Dan.

  Chapter 5

  It really was a full house. Or was that a full windmill?

  There were Ana's two daughters, both in their teens, both clones of each other as well as younger versions of their mother with long blonde hair, though theirs wasn't turning grey yet. There was Ana's husband, Wayne, who barely looked up from his ham sandwich as we walked in, offering us only a gruff wave.

  And in the corner, with his hands tied behind his back behind a chair, with a droll look on his face, was our wanted man, Julian. "Good afternoon, ladies," he said flatly.

  No one in Ana's family seemed to find his presence particularly troublesome.

  "Don't worry, ladies, I've caught our man for you. You're welcome." Dan had the gumption to jump up and pull a chair out for me. "You look tired. It must have been a long walk for you. Too bad it was all for nothing."

  I didn't want to sit down, but Ana looked at me expectantly. It would have been rude to refuse, if only for her sake, and there wasn't anywhere else to sit in their cramped windmill kitchen anyway.

  But I didn't thank him as I sat down. Hey, I wasn't feeling that cordial.

  Ana poured another glass of lemonade for Dan and he drank it down in one gulp. "Delicious, Ana, thank you."

  "You're such a good boy, Daniel," she said, rubbing him on the shoulder.

  I tried not to roll my eyes.

  She offered a glass to Julian. "My hands are currently a little tied up."

  I was keen to get out of there as soon as humanly possible, but Pippa let out a huge "ooh" when she saw Ana produce her plate of homemade sugar cookies and took five for herself. "These are delicious, Ana," she said, digging in like a horse at a trough.

  When in Rome. I also accepted a few cookies and a glass of lemonade. Both were overloaded with sugar, but I didn't mind the hit—I needed it right then.

  Julian watched us all feasting out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, don't let me stop you," he said flatly. "Though if anyone wants to hand-feed me a biscuit," he said, using the British term, "I wouldn't object."

  I don't think any of us were willing to risk getting our fingers bitten off.

  "We should get back to the train," Pippa said, standing up once her plate was empty. I stood up after her. "Thank you, Ana, it's been lovely."

  Well, I wasn't sure about lovely. It had certainly been weird.

  "Oh, there's no rush," Julian said. "The police have been notified of Dan's fantastic catch and they'll be here as soon as the road is unblocked. Isn't that right, Dan?"

  I sat back down in shock. "The road is blocked?" I asked.

  "Oh, I'm surprised you didn't already know," Dan said, sitting his glass down after his third lemonade. I ignored his smart aleck tone. "The bridge up a hundred miles ahead had a tree fall on it. One of those huge thousand-year-old oaks. The bridge is completely blocked. Until it can be lifted, no one can get up this way. Nor out of it." He let out a laugh. "Except via train. But we know how well that worked out."

  I tried to swallow my rage at Dan knowing yet another thing before I did.

  "I did know that actually. I just forgot."

  "Sure you did," Dan replied. "How did you know that again?"

  I chose to ignore the question and took another cookie.

  I walked over to Julian. I supposed there really was no rush to leave then, so I may as well try and get some info out of him. "Why did you do it?" I asked him, leaning down. "Why did you kill Eden, if you loved her?"

  He rolled his eyes. "I was after her money," he said drolly, his English accent becoming even more exaggerated. "Why else?"

  I stood up. "Did you love her?" I asked.

  He stared at me for a long time. "Very much."

  "How long were you in a relationship with her?"

  "Hmm, well, it started in February last year, and it ended about two hours ago when I killed her."

  I sighed. I didn't think I was going to get an earnest answer out of him in that windmill, let alone an honest one.

  "Even if it's not moving any time soon, shouldn't we at least get back to the train?" Pippa asked. "So at least the conductor knows where we are. And we can keep Julian..." She looked over at our British friend while he raised his eyebrows drolly, waiting for her to continue her sentence. "Contained."

  "Allow me," Dan said, stepping up to untie Julian. "I'll lead him back to the train."

  "No," Pippa said firmly. "I'll lead Julian back to the train." They were fighting over him like a toy.

  "If I'm going to be manhandled, I choose the lady," Julian said, standing up.

  That was settled then.

  Pippa having to drag a thin, but still tall, 160-pound Englishman behind us meant that Dan and I ended up walking together, side by side, through the fields.

  Great. I had no idea what kind of small talk to make with the guy. But luckily—or unluckily—Dan didn't have a problem talking.

  "Nice theory checking under the train," Dan mused.

  Oh great. So he had seen that little folly.

  "Of course I thought of that myself," Dan said. "Only I knew how impossible it would be for Julian to hide under there without anyone seeing him. He's got to have known that was the first place any amateur would check."

  I gritted my teeth.

  "Yes, well, Pippa and I don't discount any good leads as 'impossible'," I said. "We check them all out, thoroughly."

  "It certainly worked out well for me," he said, a smile curling over his lips. "While you were thoroughly checking, I was able to make my way to the windmill."

  He gave me a little pat on the shoulder which made me jump. "Don't worry, Rachael," he said. "At least we've caught the killer. That's the main thing, right?"

  I shook my head. He was still jumping to a massive conclusion without any evidence. I knew from experience how dangerous that could be. "We don't know that he is the killer. Not for certain."

  "He confessed," Dan said, as though I was the crazy one. He stopped for a moment and Pippa and Julian started to gain on us.

  "I'm not even sure he was being serious," I said. "It's hard to tell with British people."

  Dan started walking agai
n, slower than before. Either I was imagining it, or what I'd said had actually gotten to him.

  "Either way, I guess the police will take it from here," Dan finally said with a little sigh of resignation.

  "You're not happy about that?" I was surprised.

  He shrugged a little and buried his hands in his windbreaker. "Just a little sad it's all over, that's all," he said, dragging his feet along though the field. "I never actually investigated a murder before. Well, not in real life, at least." Right, the online forums.

  But I was shocked he was admitting that his previous victory hadn't really been all that real. "Well, yes, this one involved helping out real people."

  Dan nodded. "I like the feeling of being...well, as you put it, helpful, I suppose. I don't get to experience that feeling very often." He let out another long sigh. "I always seem to do the opposite. Put my foot in it. Rub people the wrong way."

  No, you don't say. "Oh, I'm sure that's not true," I tried to say as sincerely as possible.

  Dan sighed. "I did a body language course once, when I was in college," he said. "It was supposed to teach students how to use their body language to make themselves more likable, more popular with people, by showing us what body language people use when they like someone or they don't like them."

  "And did it work?"

  Dan shook his head. "All it made me realize was how much people don't like me."

  "Oh. Gosh."

  Maybe Dan wasn't so bad after all.

  Geez, was I starting to feel sorry for the guy?

  "Well..." I said, trying to cheer him up. "Julian hasn't actually been found guilty yet, you know. Not by the cops, not by a judge....and not even by us." I shrugged. "Maybe we missed something. Maybe there's more to this case? Maybe when we get back to the train, and the bridge still hasn't been cleared, we'll have a bit more time to investigate, before the police arrive."

  Was I actually suggesting that Dan and I work together?

  "Come on, Julian definitely did it." Dan stopped and stared at me condescendingly and I suddenly felt a lot less sorry for him. I wondered what my body language was telling him right then. "He had the opportunity, the motive, and he confessed." Dan shook his head. "I wish it was more complicated than that, Rachael. You know, I really do. But it isn't."

  "Fine," I said. But I thought maybe Dan was wrong. We just had one very sarcastic Englishman being dragged through a field. We didn't have real proof.

  One thing we did have, though: a murder scene, in the middle of nowhere, with no help on the way, at least not yet. We still had time.

  Maybe I could still out-wit Dan.

  "Where do you think they've put him?" Pippa asked quietly. She started to riffle through her bag, muttering something about old almonds she might have stashed in there somewhere. Didn't she just stuff her face with cookies at Ana's house? I mean, Ana's windmill?

  I leaned into the aisle. In vain, of course. Julian was back in first class, as far as I knew, under the watchful eye of conductor Garry until the police arrived.

  "Hmmm. I know on a ship they would have put him in the brig. But I'm not sure what the train equivalent is."

  "I'm not sure there is a train equivalent."

  On this point, she was probably right. I'd never heard of a train jail before.

  "I just don't like being trapped out here, with a killer," Pippa said, coming up empty handed. No almonds then.

  "I'm sure he is secured," I said. "Besides, he's not a crazed maniac on the loose. He killed Eden for her money. You and I don't have any of that." I laughed a little and settled back in my seat and closed my eyes. If we were going to be stuck on this thing, I could at least try and get some sleep.

  "And what do you think they've done with Eden?" Pippa whispered. "I mean, her body? Do you think it's still laying on the ground?”

  "Yes. Garry wouldn't tamper with a crime scene."

  "Yeah, but it just seems so gruesome to think of her just laying there." Pippa shivered.

  "Pippa, can you stop worrying about all these things and try to get some sleep?"

  She leaned back in her seat but she didn't close her eyes. "I can't. Not with a dead body and a killer less than a dozen feet away. And I'm not sure how you can."

  "It's at least a hundred feet," I corrected her. "Anyway, I'm used to this kind of thing now." I caught the sight of Dan pacing in the aisle from the corner of my eye. "Unlike some people, who are a little more green."

  Pippa shook her head. "You two either need to make out, or you need to call a truce."

  "Pippa, that’s gross. Stop it."

  "What is? Calling a truce?"

  "I'm serious. Stop it!"

  "I'm gonna go for a walk," Pippa said suddenly. "I'm feeling a little queasy. No chance of any fresh air, but I can at least stretch my legs."

  I must have drifted off because I awoke to the feeling of being violently shaken from side to side like a rag doll.

  "Oh, Pippa, I'd finally gotten to sleep! What is it?" I sat up. "Are the police finally here?"

  She shook her head. "I just caught our good friend, Conductor Garry, going through Eden's bags."

  Chapter 6

  I really needed a drink of water. I'd consumed too much sugar at Ana's house for one thing. And any time I am suddenly woken from a nap, I am always desperately dehydrated.

  I grabbed a bottle of water from my bag and glugged it down.

  "Did you here me?"

  "Yes," I said. "But Garry isn't a suspect anymore. We thought he was keeping us trapped here on purpose by refusing to call the police, but now we know that they're not here because there's a tree blocking the bridge."

  Pippa looked at me in disbelief. "Rachael, innocent men don't riffle through dead women's bags!"

  I shrugged. "Maybe he was fetching an item for her."

  "Rachael. She's dead. What items does she need?"

  "Good point."

  Pippa groaned when she checked her phone again. "Great. If we're not out of here in half an hour, we're gonna miss the meeting."

  I wasn't sure there was much chance of that happening. I also wasn't sure how much I cared. I ALSO hadn't told Pippa that my phone had better reception than hers did and had a fairly constant bar in the corner of the screen. I'd seen it when I'd grabbed the water, but pushed it out of view.

  We both jumped when a few rows behind us we heard a scream. "When are we getting off this darn train!"

  The voice was so loud and piercing that I had to cover my ears. It came from a blonde, curvy woman a few rows back who was red from distress.

  Pippa and I looked at each other. We'd been so caught up in everything that I supposed it was easy to forget that the other train passengers wanted to get the heck out of there as much as we did. And the other passengers hadn't had the luxury of being invited into a windmill for refreshments.

  The scream must have carried all the way to first class, because Conductor Garry walked back into our carriage while Pippa side-eyed me. "Keep an eye on him."

  I still wasn't entirely convinced by her theory. Why would he want to deal with a dead body on his shift if he didn't absolutely have to?

  He waddled over to the blonde lady who'd screamed. "Please, ma'am, you'll need to try your best to stay calm. Our foremost concern is the happiness and safety of our passengers."

  "One of your passengers was killed two hours ago," Pippa called out, leaning into the aisle so that Garry would hear.

  I elbowed her. "Stop it."

  The woman slunk back down into her seat and then said in a whiney voice, "But I am starving! There isn't even a snack cart on this train! What are we supposed to do!" Her voice was becoming shrill and frantic again. "I have blood sugar issues, you know!"

  "So do I!" another voice called out, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a cardigan. "You can't keep us trapped on here with no food!"

  I crossed them both out as suspects, in that case. There was no way either of them would want the trip delayed. They wanted their foo
d.

  Garry looked a little overwhelmed. Maybe he knew what to do with a dead body and a suspected killer, but he seemed totally ill-equipped to deal with a train full of hungry passengers who would probably rip his arm off and eat it if he didn't supply a reasonable alternative. "I've got half a bag of Cheetos back in my cab."

  "Well, that's not going to go very far."

  Other passengers started to pipe up now.

  "We need food!"

  "This isn't fair!"

  "I am going to pass out!"

  "I have diabetes!"

  "Maybe we will all turn to cannibalism if the train doesn't get moving soon," Pippa murmured. "I thought we only had to worry about Julian. I think any one of these people would chew the meat off our bones if we fall asleep again."

  "Let me see what you've got in the restaurant car!" I said, calling out to Garry as I jumped out of my seat.

  He looked me up and down. "Oh, right. You're a cook or something, aren't you?"

  "Baker," I said. "Well, that's my specialty. But when you go to culinary school, you have to generalize in all fields of cooking before you specialize. So I'm sure I can throw something together."

  In between second and first class, behind a steel gate of a door that required Garry to unlock it, was located a cute—if dusty—little restaurant. There was a microwave in the corner and a teeny tiny stove next to it.

  Garry surveyed the ghostly carcass of the train restaurant. "It usually only gets used on interstate journeys," he said. "So it's probably been a while. This is one of the oldest trains we have, which is the only reason it even has this old dinosaur of a restaurant on it."

  "I know," I mused. "From nineteen-eighty-eight."

  Garry nodded. "I'm surprised you know that."

  "A friend told me," I sighed. "Anyway, let's see what we are working with here."

  Garry looked through the pantry and the tiny bar fridge.

  "Looks like all we've got is flour, butter, and some old powered milk...and some sugar."

  "We can do something with that." I called out for Pippa to join us. "Come on, we've got to get to work."

  Garry shook his head. "Good luck. I really hope you can make something work. Things are getting pretty hairy out there."