My brother gives a sold blink to his blushing bride. “Who’s humiliating Bizzy?”
“Never mind,” I say as I spot the man with dark hair and a comely face from the night of the murder. “A tiger just stepped into our midst.”
Tiger Caldwell stands tall in a long coat with tails, a ruffled shirt, and an elongated top hat with a silver ribbon trimming the bottom.
“Last call to all of my fellow revelers,” he shouts at the top of his lungs. “It’s time to step onto the Ironwork Express for a night filled with illusion, delusion, and collusion in a trip that travels both backward and forward in time. Feel free to indulge in bawdy behavior and skullduggery as D.J. Cutthroat rocks the caboose!”
Georgie and Juni lift their frocks enough to keep from tripping. Georgie has donned a navy number with zippers located in places zippers should never be, and Juni is wearing a dress that amounts to a ball gown solely comprised of leather.
Juni eyes the train from over my shoulder. “Wish me luck, ladies. I’m certain my Mr. Right is on that steam engine somewhere.”
“What about the doctor with the Bentley?” Jasper asks.
“Or Bobbie’s brother, Buck?” I add.
Juni averts her eyes. “Everyone knows the third time’s a charm.”
“Good thinking,” Georgie says, linking her arm through her daughter’s. “I’ll let two strangers buy me a drink before I find a man to take me to the dance next week. Here’s hoping he’s wearing a monocle and his real teeth.”
They take off and we step onto the train, only to find Tiger greeting all of the guests at the entry. It’s more spacious than I assumed it would be in here, with a row of seats lining either side and a few tables set out here and there, but more than ample room to have a spontaneous dance floor in the middle.
The thick scent of cologne mingling with perfume lets me know just about everyone here means business, and the sound of laughter is already rising above the light music playing over the speakers.
“Huxley Baker”—Tiger slaps my brother on the shoulder as an enormous grin breaks out over his face—“glad you finally took me up on the offer to swing by.” He nods to Mackenzie. “Nice to see you again, Mayor Woods. You look just as lovely as the night we met.” And as soon as Hux cuts this one loose, I’m hunting her down to make her my own. Or in the least, adding her name to my favorite naughty list.
“Macy Baker.” My sister wastes no time in shaking his hand just as a sharp whistle goes off overhead and the train starts moving with a jerk. “I’m Huxley’s favorite sister as evidenced by the fact I’m allowed to wear whatever I wish to his nuptials next week.”
I glance up at Jasper and shrug because, let’s face it, I can’t dispute a thing she just said.
Jasper cocks his head to the side. Do I want to know what they’re having you wear?
“Let’s just say it’s something you find easy to remove,” I whisper.
“Oh.” He tips his head back and winces. Sorry about that. But on the upside, things should move rather swiftly for us once we get back to the cottage that night.
I nod because it’s so true.
“Well, well”—Tiger’s eyes ride up and down my sister’s body, and I swear I can see him hugging her every curve—“isn’t this a pleasure.” He frowns momentarily at Jasper. “And is this the mister?”
“No, no.” Macy is quick to swat Jasper away as if he had a spider crawling up his arm. “That would Bizzy’s husband. I’m single and looking to mingle.” She hikes a shoulder his way while batting her lashes. “Know of anyone who might want to lose an hour or two with me?”
A dark chuckle fills his throat, and his mind immediately goes to white noise.
And there’s that. Macy has turned his brain to mush. Here’s hoping I can use it to my advantage.
But before I can properly introduce myself and deep dive into his somewhat perverse mind, the lights go out before blinking back to life in short pink and blue bursts as techno music fills the cabin. A disembodied voice comes on and encourages guests to move freely from car to car and enjoy the different pleasures each station has to offer.
Jasper and I step farther into the crowded car, only to be quickly separated from everyone as one giant dance party breaks out. A woman in a short frilly dress that glows lavender under the black lights quickly passes out glow-in-the-dark glasses, tiaras, and crowns to everyone around.
“When in Rome,” Jasper says, landing a tiara over my head before planting a crown over his own. How about you and I find a quiet place where the king and queen can communicate properly?
A tiny laugh evicts from me. Communication has quickly become a code word for far more exciting forms of expression.
“What about the investigation?” I try not to shout it up over the music in the event the person at the center of our investigation is lurking nearby.
“It’s going to be a long trip. We probably don’t want to make it weird.”
“You’re so right.” I take him by the hand as he weaves us through the crowd until we come upon a woman dancing on one of the tables, and I groan as soon I see that leather dress swishing back and forth. “Juni!” I shout up at her. “We’re on a moving train! Get down before you crack your head open!”
A beefy man wearing a leather vest steps up. “Don’t you worry, little miss. I’ll make sure she doesn’t hurt a hair on her head.” He belts out something between the roar of a lion and the howl of a werewolf before pulling Juni down and landing her in those tree trunks he calls arms. He beats his chest with his left hand, and Juni chortles up a
