Page 40 of With a Vengeance
Reggie raises his hands, as if it’s he and not Seamus who’s supposed to be frisked next. “Then I don’t want any part of this. I’m going to go back to coach and sit there until we reach Chicago. In the meantime, you can kill each other for all I care. Just leave me out of it.”
“I already told you why that’s not an option,” Anna says. “You’re a part of this now, whether you like it or not.”
“Can you guarantee my safety?”
Anna can’t, so she doesn’t even try. “I can promise you that Seamus and I will do everything in our power to keep you safe. Seamus will take you to your room now. Lock the door and stay inside until we reach Chicago. Seamus and I will check on you every so often, just to make sure you’re fine.”
Reggie’s hesitation makes it clear he still doesn’t like the idea. Neither does Anna. Her preference would be to not have him on this train at all. But since she can’t stop the train and let Reggieoff, the next best option is to put him in an empty first-class room and hope he stays there.
“Go on,” Anna says gently, even though she wants to say something else.
Why didn’t you tell the others about the knife? Are you really who you say you are?And, most pressing of all,Are you also hiding something?
Fifteen
From the momentReggie’s hand passed over Anna’s thigh, he knew she was hiding a knife. He also understood why she had it, which is why he remained silent. If he were her, he’d want a weapon, too, in a crowd like this.
But a knife is different than a gun. Sure, knives can kill, but not as easily. To hurt someone with a blade, you need to get close to the person you’re attacking. Close enough to know who they are. A bullet needs no such thing. It can strike from a distance, hitting anyone unlucky enough to be in its path.
Following Seamus down the corridor of the next car, Reggie wonders how much experience he has with guns. Probably plenty, from the looks of him. Reggie estimates he’s about thirty-five, give or take a couple of years. Old enough to have likely seen combat during the war. Seamus has the same gruff weariness as other veterans Reggie has come into contact with. Men who saw too much horror to forget about it.
Seamus stops at the last room in the car and throws open the door. “Here it is.”
Reggie peers inside like an animal facing a cage. “Are you sure I’ll be safe in here?”
“If you do what Anna says, you should have no problem.”
“And is she safe?” Reggie asks.
Seamus nods. “Yeah. As long as I’m around.”
“Have you thought about what might happen if that’s no longer the case?”
He means no offense by the question, and Seamus seems not to take any. Both men know it’s entirely possible that whoever killed Judd Dodge might try it again. And that Seamus, thanks to the gun, is a prime target.
“I’ll be fine,” Seamus says before lumbering back the way they came.
Alone in the room, Reggie takes a long, wide look at the space. It’s bigger than he expected. Fancy, too. Far nicer than what he’s used to. Hell, there’s even a bed. He’s never had a room on a train with a bed that doesn’t fold up into the wall.
He sits on the edge of the mattress, testing its firmness. Soft as a feather. It’s a shame he’s not going to be able to use it to get a little shut-eye. He needs to be awake and alert for the entire trip.
Boss’s orders.
Reggie stands and examines the room’s other surprise amenity—the bathroom. Although smaller than a broom closet, it’s better than those stinking, shared lavatories in coach. He crinkles his nose at the memory of hiding in the one located in the second coach car, flinging himself inside the moment he heard people stomping through the sleeper car. He barely made it, closing the door behind him just as the others entered the car. Pressed against it, he listened to the group make their way to the front of the train, wondering which of them were on the list of names he’d been given. All of them, from the sound of it.
He stayed locked in the lavatory for what felt like an hour before the group passed by again. Just to be safe, he waited an additional hour before deciding to join them in the back half of the train.
Now he’s here, in a place he never, ever expected to be.
Reggie reaches for his overnight case. He didn’t pack much. There wasn’t time to add anything more than a shaving kit, an extra shirt, and a ham sandwich wrapped in wax paper in case he got hungry. Although the sight of the sandwich makes his empty stomach rumble, eating will have to wait a few more minutes. There’s another task he must do first.
From an inside pocket of his suit coat, Reggie removes the wallet he’d told Anna was in his suitcase and the ticket he’d quickly purchased to lend credence to his lie about boarding the wrong train. Philly to Baltimore. The cheapest one available. He drops both into the small suitcase and pushes them aside along with the shirt and sandwich, reaching for something else.
A list of six names in alphabetical order, last name first.
He looks it over, matching the names to the people on the train. All present and accounted for except for one—Kenneth Wentworth. A possible transcription error, considering the presence of Wentworth’s son.
Outside his door, Reggie hears footsteps in the hallway. The others making their way to their own rooms. He waits until they pass, still listening closely once they’re gone. There could be a straggler coming by. Or, worse, a lurker who doesn’t want to be heard. Sure enough, after five minutes of intense listening, Reggie hears a single set of footsteps.
