Page 12 of With a Vengeance

Lapsford scoffs. “So youdoknow why all of us are here.”

“I know why,” Dante says.

This finally gets their attention. All eyes turn to Dante, who reacts with a satisfied nod. Nowthatis what he’s accustomed to.

The others recognize him as well, of course, and most of them seem surprised by his presence. Apparently, they also expected his father.

“Dante Wentworth,” Sally Lawrence says. “Is this your father’s doing?”

“I’m afraid not.” He continues deeper into the car, passing the others on his way to the piano. There, he sits and starts aimlessly tickling the ivories. “But I know whoisbehind it.”

Jack Lapsford steps toward him, impatient. “Then what’s this all about? If you know who brought us here, tell us.”

“This is the work,” Dante says as he bangs out a fanfare on the piano, “of someone none of us—especially me—thought we’d ever see again.”

What Dante doesn’t say is that, other than himself, no one is going to enjoy seeing Anna Matheson again. This, he’s certain, won’t be a happy reunion.

8 p.m.

Twelve Hours toChicago

Eight

Anna waits inher room, watching the clock, her muscles coiled in both anticipation and dread. For the thousandth time, she tells herself she’s doing the right thing, that nothing will go wrong, that in twelve hours this will all be worth it. But then a nagging, negative part of her brain tells her—also for the thousandth time—that she’s not, that something will, that there’s no guarantee justice awaits at the end of the line.

But then Seamus knocks on her door and Anna stops thinking altogether. Instinct takes over.

“It’s time,” Seamus announces when she opens the door.

“Is everyone else off the train?”

Anna knew none of the invitees would willingly board an empty train, so she arranged for the crew members she’d paid off to act like they were going about their business until a minute before departure. As for the passengers, they were friends and family members of the crew. Anna made a point of throwing a little money their way as well.

“They are,” Seamus says. “I swept the train from front to back myself. It’s just you, me, and the six people in the lounge.”

Anna smooths her dress before doing the same to her hair. Asshe lifts the briefcase from the chair by the window, she says, “What about the wrinkle?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

The interior lights of the train flicker again as they leave the room, spilling into a corridor that alternates between darkness and light. Anna spends each millisecond of darkness to monitor the snowfall outside. Slow, but steady.

“Everything will be fine,” Seamus says. When the lights return to full brightness, he adds, “See?”

The first-class lounge is the car directly in front of theirs. So close that Anna can hear a murmur of voices and the unexpected sound of the piano. Knowing all six of them are inside, mere feet away, makes her suddenly queasy. When the train sways, she moves with it, practically swooning.

“You okay?” Seamus asks as he takes the briefcase from her hands.

Anna shakes her head. “Not in the least.”

But she needs to be. She can’t let nerves get the best of her. Not now. Not after so much planning and so much expense. Still outside the lounge, Anna pauses and closes her eyes, not yet ready to see the others through the circular window in the door.

In that darkness, she can only think of her father, her mother, Tommy. She even spares a thought for Aunt Retta, her father’s only sister, who’d loved him so much his fate had driven her insane.

They’re gone now.

All because of the six people on the other side of that door.

Anna inhales, exhales, opens her eyes. Through the window, she sees five of the six. Three have their backs turned to her. The other two are in profile. The sixth remains hidden behind them, seated at the piano, playing an inappropriately jaunty tune.

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