Page 41

Only these don’t pass by his door.
They stop there.
Soon there’s a quiet knock on the door, followed closely by the voice of Anna Matheson. “Mr. Davis? May I speak with you a moment?”
Reggie goes to the door, opening it just a crack. “Can I help you with something?”
“I just wanted to thank you.” Anna pauses to look up and downthe car. Satisfied there’s no one else around who can hear her, she adds, “For not mentioning the—”
“Yes,” Reggie says, cutting her off. “Of course.”
Anna bites her bottom lip, the obvious question hovering between them. Why didn’t he mention she had a knife? Again, Reggie doesn’t force her to say it.
“I thought it was a good idea to keep quiet,” he says. “Considering the circumstances, you have every reason to want to protect yourself.”
Anna exhales, relieved. “Yes, that’s exactly why I have it. And I appreciate your discretion.”
“Your secret’s safe with me,” Reggie says. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”
“Just that, despite the rather tense situation you’ve been thrust into, I assure you that Seamus and I won’t let anything happen to you. Just lock your door and stay in your room. If you do that, you should be perfectly safe.”
Reggie acknowledges the advice with a nod. “Thank you. I’ll do exactly that. Hopefully, you won’t see or hear me again until we reach Chicago.”
After Anna leaves, he follows orders and locks the door. As for Anna’s other piece of advice—staying put—well, that one will go unheeded. Because Reggie will need to leave his room very shortly.
Back at his overnight case, he removes a red pen and presses its tip to the first name on the list.
Judd Dodge.
Then he drags the pen across the page, crossing out the name in a single, quick stroke.
When that’s done, he reaches back into the suitcase, running his hand beneath the extra shirt until his fingers touch cold steel.
There it is.
The biggest tool of his trade.
Reggie isn’t sure if he’ll take it with him when he leaves the room. On one hand, it’s better to be safe than sorry. On the other, it’s more exciting to go without it. He decides to play it by ear, depending on his mood. For the moment, he’s content simply knowing it’s there if he needs it.
And that there’s now another gun on this train.
Sixteen
Outside Room Cof the train’s thirteenth car, the sconce with the loose bulb continues to flicker and hum, casting an intermittent glow over the corpse of Judd Dodge. Still shrouded beneath a tablecloth, the body is carried by Seamus and Dante. Neither man wants to be doing it, but they have little choice. They can’t just leave him on the floor of the lounge.
Anna follows them, watching from the doorway as Seamus and Dante place the body onto the mattress and swap the tablecloth that covers it for a sheet. It feels more reverent that way.
“Does anyone want to say anything?” Dante asks.
“Only that I’m sorry he didn’t suffer more,” Anna says before walking away.
She returns to her own room, leaving the door unlocked for Seamus, who she knows will join her there soon. Until he arrives, she stretches out on the bed. God, she’s exhausted, and it’s not even midnight. She’ll be positively catatonic by the time the train reaches Chicago.
Her eyes refuse to stay open, so Anna doesn’t fight them. She simply lies there, eyelids shut tight, even as Seamus enters the room, his presence as familiar as her own.
“We failed,” she says.
“I know.”