Page 3 of With a Vengeance

“You can start by telling me where all the damn porters went.”

With that comment, Anna knows with certainty that the man is Lapsford. The entitled cretin.

She locks the door, this time also using the dead bolt. Sheneeds to be extra cautious now that she knows everyone is onboard. When she returns to the center of the room, her legs remain unsteady. This time, the culprit is Jack Lapsford’s voice. Hearing it reminds Anna of the enormity of this journey. What she intends to do. What sheneedsto do. How, after so much planning, it is now underway.

Anna picks up the manifest sitting atop the bed, reviewing the names and assigned room numbers of the six passengers invited onboard.

Sal Lawrence, Car 12, Room A

Lt. Col. Jack Lapsford, Car 12, Room B

Kenneth Wentworth, Car 12, Room C

Herb Pulaski, Car 13, Room A

Edith Gerhardt, Car 13, Room B

Judd Dodge, Car 13, Room C

Each name ignites a flare of rage in Anna’s chest. These people—these six rotten, repulsive,evilpeople—are on this train at this very moment. If she wanted to, Anna could go down the line, moving from door to door, killing them all one by one.

And she very much wants to.

Which is why she and Seamus occupy Rooms A and B in the train’s eleventh car, leaving the third room there vacant. It serves as a buffer of sorts, protecting everyone from her worst instincts.

Anna drops the page and looks to the window, surprised to realize they’re out of the tunnel and moving steadily away from the city. For so long, she’d thought this night would never come. Now that it has, it seems to be going by faster than she ever expected.

The lights in the room flicker out for a moment. Not an uncommon occurrence on the Phoenix, which requires more power than most trains because of its luxurious trappings. Still, themoment of darkness is a concern, especially when it provides Anna with a clearer view out the window. The train now moves under a dark sky punctuated by large flecks of snow.

Anna had followed the weather reports and knew they’d likely be encountering snow. She just didn’t expect it to be so early, assuming instead that the first flakes wouldn’t be seen until the train was halfway across Pennsylvania. Now she worries about how large a storm awaits them as they move west—and if it will be enough to stop the Phoenix.

Because under no circumstances can the train stop.

To do so, even for thirty seconds, could completely ruin Anna’s plan.

The lights flash back on, obscuring the view out the window. Forcing her legs into motion, Anna dresses quickly, assembling the look she’d worked so hard to cultivate.

Red dress.

Demure yet curve-hugging. Tailored to fit her like a suit of armor but with just enough give that she can run in it, if it comes to that. She suspects it might.

Red mules.

A necessary evil. The advantage is that the heels make her look taller, more formidable. The downside is that they could become a problem if she does need to start running.

Red lipstick.

Just because.

Blond hair pinned into a vaguely unflattering bun, a choice made with function and not fashion in mind. Anna doesn’t want her shoulder-length hair getting in the way. It’s the same with her jewelry. That means no necklaces, bracelets, or anything else that someone could latch onto. Other than diamond studs in her ears, the only accessory she wears is a single lapel pin that belonged to her father.

A tiny silver train engine pinned at her bodice, closest to her heart.

Then there’s the knife. Flat-handled and boasting a four-inch blade, it’s hidden beneath her dress, slid into a sheath strapped to her upper thigh. Anna thought it necessary, just in case she reaches a point when running isn’t even an option.

As she studies her ensemble in the bathroom mirror, Aunt Retta’s voice rings through her thoughts, bright with satisfaction.

Now that, my darling, is how you dress for revenge.

---