Page 37 of With a Vengeance

Reggie spends a moment trying to process all of this, looking not at Anna but at the bar in the corner of the car. “Could—” His voice is a harsh scratch. He swallows, licks his lips, and tries again. “Could I trouble someone for a drink?”

Sal lets loose with an inappropriate laugh. “Trust me, pal. That’s the last thing you want.”

“Why?”

“Because his drink was poisoned,” Anna says. “That much we do know.”

“But not by me,” Sal says.

“Or me,” Lapsford is quick to add.

Reggie looks again to the bar, which Dante currently leans against as if he works there. “What about him?”

“I’m just an innocent bystander like you,” Dante says.

“A bystander? Yes.” Anna pauses, narrowing her eyes at Dante. “Innocent? Not at all.”

“But someone here killed him?” Reggie says.

“Correct. And now that you know the situation, you can understand why it’s impossible to let you return to coach. Since you know a murderer is aboard this train, it’s vital that you stay with us. For your own protection.”

Exhaustion nudges Anna from all sides. She’s now responsible for keeping this stranger alive for the rest of the trip. For keeping all of them alive. A burden she never considered when planning this night. The realization makes her so tired she’s forced to leave the doorway and sink into the nearest chair, hoping Reggie doesn’t again try to make a run for it. She doesn’t possess the energy to chase after him if he does.

She’s relieved when, instead of retreating, Reggie moves deeper into the lounge. He looks again at the body of Judd Dodge. This time, it’s not a fleeting glance but a full-on stare.

“Is it possible he could have done it himself?”

“Impossible,” Herb Pulaski says, piping up for the first time since being searched. “Judd would never poison himself.”

“Never?” Reggie looks to Anna. “These people who framed your father. You said this train’s taking them straight into the hands of the FBI, right?”

“It is,” Anna says, wondering where he’s going with this. Wherever it is, she’s perked up considerably. Her earlier exhaustion is gone, replaced with throbbing curiosity.

“So, he knew that once this train reaches Chicago, he’ll likely be going to prison.”

“That’s where they’re all headed,” Anna says, reminding the four remaining conspirators in their midst.

“When faced with the prospect of spending the rest of his life behind bars, what if he chose to die instead?”

Anna studies Reggie, still wondering if he is indeed who he claims to be. His suggestion seems too shrewd for someone foolish enough to not know he’d boarded the wrong train. Then again, maybe he’s simply read a lot of mystery novels and watched too many detective movies. Anna herself is the same way. One of the reasons they’re aboard this train is because she was inspired by all the films she’d seen that were set on one.Strangers on a Train. The Narrow Margin. The Lady Vanishes.

Now that she finds herself trapped in a real-life murder mystery, Anna understands she must think and act like the characters in those movies. Which normally would mean not trusting the seemingly innocent stranger who just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yet there’s undeniable logic behind Reggie’s suggestion. Anna thinks about Judd’s location when he died. Standing alone. Distanced from the others. That relative isolation is the main reason she’s struggled to identify the person who poisoned him. No one was near him once he took his drink from the bar. Taking all of that into consideration, it becomes more and more likely that Judd Dodge poisoned himself.

And Anna can think of only one way to find out for certain.

“We should search him, too,” she says. “If Mr. Davis iscorrect and Judd did poison himself, the proof would be in his pockets.”

She approaches the corpse, followed closely by Seamus. The others move in as well, surrounding Judd’s body while maintaining a respectful distance. Only Reggie stays at the other end of the car, as if he now regrets bringing up the possibility that it was suicide instead of murder. Still, he makes no move to exit the lounge and run back to coach. A sign to Anna that he’s as invested in this as the rest of them.

Anna hesitates before lifting the tablecloth, daunted by the task at hand. She’s about to search a dead man, and there’s not a single thing she can do to make it seem less terrible than it is.

“I can do it,” Seamus says as he kneels on the other side of the body. “After all, I searched the others.”

Not all of them,Anna thinks, shamed by the memory of her hands around Edith’s neck, of the way she squeezed her throat, blind with rage. It dawns on her that Seamus is likely thinking about it, too, and that his offer has less to do with her hesitation and more with her flash of violence.

“Be my guest,” Anna says.

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