Loco Motive (28 page)

Pepper wasn't interested in the recital. “I don't give a rat's ass how the pictures were taken. Tell me who wanted them and why.” She moved closer to Maddie and Tiff. “Unless you want to be put permanently out of action, cough up a better name than John Smith.”

“We can't,” Tiff said miserably. “It was the name he used as a private eye. He said he'd be on the same train going east Sunday. All we had to do was leave the camera and the pictures in a duffel bag on the luggage rack in this sleeper.” Tiff stopped to catch her breath. “When we got to Williston there'd be a locker at the station with twenty grand in cash as our payment. He gave us the key.”

Pepper was incredulous. “This crook is on the train? Have you seen him?”

Maddie shook her head. “No. I mean, I thought I did, but it was from a distance. When I saw the guy closer up, I knew it wasn't him.” She looked at Judith. “She's the one who got us all messed up in the first place. She tricked us.”

Judith was taken aback. “You mean because I took out the film…or…because,” she went on as the light dawned, “you dropped your camera when you fled the backyard and had to come back later that night. Where did you find the camera you thought was yours?”

“By the side of the house,” Tiff said, finally finding her voice. “Not where the hedge is, but by the driveway. At least it looked like ours. But the more Maddie and I looked at it, the more we realized the model numbers were different.”

Judith turned to Pepper. “Did Wayne ever find his camera?”

“No.” She sucked in her breath. “I don't get it. If you've got Wayne's camera with the pictures he took in it, I want it back.”

“I don't have it,” Judith said. “You'll have to ask Emily. I think she swiped Wayne's camera from that duffel bag on the luggage rack. She likes to collect cameras, among other things.”

“That kid!” Pepper briefly closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Never mind that for now.” She leaned even closer to Maddie and Tiff, her face contorted with malice. “Describe John Smith. Now!”

Maddie and Tiff shuddered. “He was maybe forty?” Maddie said, talking fast. “Brown hair, five-ten, nice-looking, but no stud. Denim jacket, jeans, dark shirt.” She glanced at Tiff. “Can you remember anything else?”

Tiff was unresponsive for so long that Judith thought Pepper was ready to pounce. “Yes,” she finally said. “He had sideburns.”

T
iff's detail didn't seem to mean anything to Pepper. “Sideburns?” She threw her hands in the air. “I surrender. You two aren't just stupid and greedy, but utterly worthless. I'm turning you over to the conductor. He'll know what to do. Unless,” she went on, looking at Judith, “you have a better idea.”

Judith had some ideas, but she wasn't going to air them. “Go ahead. I'll press charges. Keep me posted. Let's go, coz. I'm beat—in more ways than one.”

“Take it easy,” Renie said, standing up first. “Here, grab my hand.”

Getting to her feet, Judith definitely felt wobbly. “Thanks.” She turned to Pepper. “Are you still suing me for thirty million dollars?”

Pepper stared at Judith. “Thirty million…are you kidding? If I sued you, I wouldn't ask that much.”

Judith opened her purse and took out the legal papers. “See for yourself.”

As she flipped through the pages, Pepper's jaw dropped. “I don't get it. I didn't do this. How could I?”

Judith snatched the document from Pepper. “We'll sort that out later. Shall we tell Wayne to get Mr. Peterson down here?”

Pepper didn't answer right away. She seemed genuinely flummoxed. “What? Oh—yes. ASAP.”

Wayne was leaning next to the door. He looked half asleep. “Is Pepper okay?” he asked as the cousins closed the door behind them.

“Pepper's fine,” Judith said. “She's one tough woman. Get the conductor to deal with the double-trouble pair.”

“Poor Pepper.” Wayne sighed as he turned to open the compartment door.

Neither of the cousins spoke until they reached the stairwell. “One at a time,” Renie cautioned. “You've been through the mill.”

Judith saved her breath until she'd collapsed on the lower bunk in their room. “I wonder what would've happened if the outside door hadn't been locked or you hadn't come along with a sockful of horse chestnuts.”

“They come in handy if I'm attacked by aggressive squirrels. I sensed you were in trouble even before I heard you scream.”

“Thank God for your intuition, coz.”

Renie curled up at the foot of the bunk. “You'd do the same.”

“True.” Judith was quiet for a few moments, trying to recover both physically and mentally. “Have I misjudged Pepper?”

“That's not like you, but it's possible. As Wayne said, she's a no-nonsense type. I've no idea what's going on with the lawsuit and her denial of being part of it. I almost believe her. The only thing I'm sure of is that she makes one heck of a bodyguard. If I needed one, I'd hire her. I wonder if she'd take a bullet for me?”

Judith regarded Renie curiously. “That's interesting.”

“What? That somebody might want to shoot me?”

“No. I mean, I don't think anybody would want to shoot you. At least not anybody who—” She stopped, fumbling for words.

“Quit while you're ahead,” Renie said drily.

“I've been thinking about Pepper's devotion to Willie—or not-Willie,” Judith said. “What inspires that kind of dedication?”

“Admiration? Money? A need to be needed?”

Judith shook her head. “I don't think so. How about love?” Renie wrinkled her nose. “Wayne insisted there was no romance.”

“I'm not referring to that kind of love,” Judith said. “I'm mean the more visceral kind—as in parent and child.”

Renie gaped at her cousin. “Father and daughter?”

“Do you remember what Wee Willie Weevil looked like?”

Renie took her time responding. “I didn't pay attention to him. Neither did our kids. I saw news photos and TV clips, but he often wore a helmet in close-ups or it was a long shot of a crazy stunt. Willie might as well have been wearing a suit of armor—not a bad idea, really. Bill had seen one of his movies and said the guy couldn't act his way out of a paper sack. Willie never changed expressions, not even an occasional smile. But his fans saw him in person. They'd recognize an impostor.”

Judith stifled a yawn. “Willie hasn't made a movie recently. Whoever was at the B&B looked like Willie, but older. According to Justin and Wayne, the original bodyguard was also Willie's stand-in, so they must've had a resemblance. Justin said the guy doubled for some of Willie's stunts in his last movie.”

Renie nodded. “Did Willie die five years ago while his last film was in production? When that Hollywood crew stayed at the B&B, Bill told us about insurance for movie stars. If a lead actor can't complete his scenes, the company collects big-time. Imagine what insurance for a guy like Willie would be worth.”

Judith was suddenly wide-eyed and alert. “Thirty mil? The beneficiary was a company called WWF. Wee Willie Films?”

“Maybe,” Renie replied. “What doesn't make sense is that if Willie died during filming, why didn't the company collect?”

“Good point,” Judith said. “That is strange.”

“The only reason I—” Renie held up a hand. “Shhh. Somebody's in the corridor.” She got up to take a peek.

“What's happening?” Judith asked after Renie moved back to the bed.

“Wayne and Mr. Peterson went downstairs. It's going on midnight. I hope the cops are waiting for Maddie and Tiff in Wolf Point.”

“Good riddance,” Judith murmured. “Now, if we could only figure out if John Smith and Jack Johnston are one and the same—or two different people, with and without sideburns.” She leaned back and sighed. “It's so frustrating not having resources other than our fellow passengers. How many are involved, how many are who they say they are, and how many are lying through their teeth?”

“It's too bad Wayne hasn't worked longer for Willie—or should I say Pepper? How would he know if Willie wasn't Willie?”

“He wouldn't. How will Wayne react if he learns he's been duped?”

“He's probably out of a job,” Renie said.

“Not just that. I think Wayne's in love with Pepper.”

“I wondered,” Renie conceded. “I can't tell if she returns the feeling.”

“No. Her emotions are focused on Willie or whoever the dead man is.”

A knock on the door startled both cousins. Renie got up. “Yes?”

“It's Wayne. Can I talk to Mrs. Flynn?”

Renie glanced at Judith, who nodded. “Sure,” Renie said, opening the door. “Has Mr. Peterson got everything under control?”

“Yes,” Wayne replied, entering the compartment. “The state troopers are meeting the train at Wolf Point. Are you pressing charges?” he asked Judith.

“Probably. I should speak with the police first.”

“I'll mention it to them,” Wayne said. “Ironic, isn't it? Maddie and Tiff will be taken off the train along with Willie's body.” He shook his head. “What a mess. I don't know how Pepper copes. She keeps her feelings under wraps.”

“Yes,” Judith agreed. “But suppressing emotions can be self-destructive.”

Wayne looked defensive. “She's upset, of course, but…” He paused. “People are hard to understand.”

“True,” Judith said. “Thanks for telling us about Maddie and Tiff.”

“There's one other thing.” Wayne seemed embarrassed.

“Pepper would like copies of those pictures. Could you make some for her?”

“I'll do it when I get back home,” Judith said. “It'll be almost two weeks. Where do I send them?”

“There's a PO box in Kalispell,” Wayne said. “I'll get it for you. But there's one other thing.” He paused again.

“Yes?” Judith encouraged him. “What is it?”

“By any chance, did you find a gold wedding ring at your B&B?” Judith did her best to sound casual. “Yes, I did. Is it yours?”

“No. It belongs to Pepper.”

Judith feigned surprise. “It does? I didn't know she was married.”

“She isn't,” Wayne said. “Never has been, as far as I know. But it's a family keepsake.”

“Oh.” Judith took the gold band from her pocket. “Someone found this,” she explained. “I put it in my slacks and forgot to take it out. I couldn't fit the initials to any recent guests, but I assumed whoever lost it would contact me eventually.” She handed the ring to Wayne. “See what I mean?”

“
RK
and
JG,
” Wayne murmured. “Pepper's last name is Gundy. If it's for an anniversary, the 1990 date might be for her parents, but I think they're dead.”

“Yes,” Judith said, and wished she hadn't.

Wayne seemed perplexed. “Oh? Did she talk to you about them?”

“Uh…no, it was just an impression.” Judith smiled. “Maybe she'll tell you when she gets the ring back.”

“Maybe.” Wayne sounded dubious. “Hey—we're slowing
down. We must be in Wolf Point. I have to help Pepper and Mr. Peterson with those two crooks.”

After Wayne left, Renie looked sternly at Judith. “Don't you dare.”

“I'm gone,” Judith said, grabbing her purse and zipping up her jacket.

“Oh, hell!” Renie threw on her coat. “What's the plan?” she asked.

“To get off,” Judith said, starting down the steps ahead of Renie.

On the lower level, an unnatural silence struck Judith. The only sign of life was Mr. Peterson, hands clasped behind his back, standing near the door to the accessible bedroom. He took a few steps forward when he saw the cousins.

“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked.

Judith spoke just as the train's whistle blew and the signal crossing bells clanged.

“How long will we be in Wolf Point?”

“I'm not sure,” the conductor replied. “Two passengers are boarding, three are getting off. Those young women will be taken into custody and”—he paused delicately—“the removal of Mr. Weevil.”

“I see,” Judith said. “Is the station open?”

“Yes.” While the train slowed to a crawl, Mr. Peterson went to the door. “We'll be here at least fifteen minutes, but we can make good time before the Williston stop. Excuse me. I have to get off.”

“So do we,” Judith said. “Promise you won't leave without us?” The conductor didn't seem to hear. He was opening the door as the train stopped. Setting the footstep on the platform, he hurried to the station.

“Go,” Judith ordered Renie. “And give me a hand.”

On the ground, the cousins moved briskly to the blue and white building. A state patrol car, a city police vehicle, and a hearse were parked nearby.

“See the wolf statue?” Renie murmured. “It's a reminder of the trappers' heyday. Fur is good. Why did I toss out my fox-lined raincoat?”

“Keep moving. It should be warm inside.”

Mr. Peterson had entered the station, but came back out as the cousins reached the door. “You're right,” he said grimly. “The Gundys aren't on the train. Their great-grandson's waiting for them. He's worried. We're checking with Scuttle to see if they got stranded.”

“Don't forget the
Z
s,” Judith said, hugging herself to keep warm.

Mr. Peterson looked chagrined. “We assumed they were in the club or dome cars. After long delays, passengers tend to party and lose track of time.” He looked to his left.

“Excuse me. Here come the men from the funeral home.”

Judith glimpsed the newcomers, but Renie tugged at her arm. “Stop gawking,” she said. “You've never seen funeral directors in parkas before? It's not snowing, but it feels way below freezing.”

An anxious-looking young man with longish blond hair and a scraggly beard opened the door for the cousins. “Thanks,” Judith said—and stopped in her tracks. “Are you waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Gundy?”

“Yes,” the young man said. “Do you know where they are?”

“No,” Judith replied, noticing the plump, dark-haired woman eyeing them from behind the service counter. “They got off at Scuttle.”

“Scuttle?” The young man was incredulous. “Why?”

“I don't know. I'm Mrs. Flynn and this is Mrs. Jones. Are you the Gundys' great-grandson?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled shyly. “I'm Randy. I know the train got into a wreck. Did they get hurt in the crash?”

“No,” Judith replied. “A younger couple was with them. Their first names are Dick and Jane. Do you know them?”

Randy looked dubious. “You putting me on?”

It took a moment for Judith to realize what the young man meant. “You're too young to have read the Dick and Jane primers. They were dropped by most schools' curriculum before you were born.”

“My granny helped raise me,” Randy said. “She saved some of her old schoolbooks. When I was a kid, I'd look at them. Kind of old-fashioned, but I liked that dog, Spot.” He shrugged diffidently. “So The Greats are okay?”

“Yes, I think so. You're certain you don't know Dick and Jane?” Randy wrinkled his nose. “Maybe. What's their last name?” Judith took a chance. “Weevil.”

“Oh!” He looked embarrassed. “Sure. My grandpa worked for his dad. You know—Wee Willie Weevil. Willie's coming to town. He helps plan our rodeo. Come summer, it's a big deal around here.”

“So I've heard,” Judith said. “You must've seen Willie at last year's rodeo.”

Randy shifted from one booted foot to the other. “No. I dropped out of school. Been working at East Glacier the last few years. Got my GED in June, but my girlfriend and I broke up.” He fidgeted with the silver chain around his neck. “Better track down the old folks. Thanks.” He started to turn away, but stopped. “Oh—got anything to write on? I should leave my number with the train dude.”

Judith reached into her pocket. “I may have…”

The plump woman at the counter spoke up. “I'll take care of it, Randy.”

“Thanks, Marsha,” he said. “Here.” He scribbled something on a tablet she'd put in front of him. “Want me to write my name on it?”