I’m through the double doors of the dining car in a slam, and I dash past the waiters standing around seeming confused. Into the next car where her room is located, I pull up fast when I see Ustinov standing there talking to the conductor. The porter’s hand is over his mouth, and he’s looking into her room, frowning. The conductor holds the door to Molly’s room in his hand, and fear hits me in the stomach like a medicine ball. For a moment, I lean against the opposite wall and catch my breath.
Gathering my strength, I step forward. “What happened?” I ask, bracing for what I might see inside.
“I don’t know, sir.” Ustinov’s voice is grave, confused.
I swallow the dread tightening my throat and look inside.
Everything relaxes when I don’t find her injured or sick. Her room is simply empty, swept clean.
“Miss Lia seems to have gotten off the train at some point,” Ustinov continues. “Her and the young lady Molly.”
“I don’t understand. How?” My mind trips back through last night.
We left Fragonard’s stateroom well after midnight. I was holding her, making love to her in the early morning hours… Even more recently, through the haze of sleep, as the light was just breaking, I’d roused with a hard on and reached for her. She’d backed her sweet ass up to my dick, and I’d quickly eased the tension in her luscious depths. I’d drifted to sleep again with her in my arms, her back to my chest, her breast in my hand.
I speak my final thought out loud. “It couldn’t have been two hours ago…”
“You saw her two hours ago?” Ustinov is studying my expression.
Fragonard breaks through the confusion. “Fitz! Come quick—something has happened.”
Again, panic is my first emotion. I take off at a steady clip after him into the final car where he and the baron and our mysterious guest were located. It’s the first time I’ve remembered the mysterious guest since we saw him at dinner.
I’ll deal with him later.
Now I’m close on Aleister’s heels. He shoves the double doors apart, and we follow down the corridor to where the baron’s door stands open. Aleister stops and backs against the wall. I pause and glance at him. He nods toward the room.
My police training kicks in, and I step to the side, pressing my back against the wall as I
inch closer to the open door. I don’t know what I expect to find inside. Looking back at Aleister, I notice his face is tight, and I prepare for the worst.
The room is trashed. A leather armchair is overturned, books are scattered across the floor. The bed is unmade and the top mattress is pushed to the side, but the most jarring element is the sight of the baron’s feet covered in black socks extending from the space between the wall and the bed.
“Hello?” I say sharply, as if giving an order. “Is anyone in here?”
Still on guard, I look quickly around the room for any signs of another passenger. Seeing none, I continue to where I can see the baron’s feet.
“Esterhaus?” I shout. “Robert? Are you okay?”
Silence.
The tap of a shoe on the landing behind me causes me to shout, “Don’t come in here!”
Aleister jumps away, into the hall. He hesitates, straining to look into the room without entering.
“Is he alive?” His voice wavers.
I’m not sure how to ascertain the answer to that question. The disheveled mattress covers the top half of the baron’s body, and I step carefully, doing my best not to touch anything and potentially damage evidence.
“Shit,” I hiss in frustration.
I pulled on my clothes so quickly, I don’t have a handkerchief in my pocket. I don’t have gloves… I don’t want to waste time running back to my room for these items. If the baron is alive, he might need urgent care.
“Aleister, go to your stateroom and bring me a towel. Hurry!”
The man scampers away, and I look around the room for anything unusual. At first glance it appears to be a robbery. His things have been thoroughly ransacked, and the door to his safe is hanging open.
A musty, sewage smell is in the room. My throat closes, and I wish I had something to cover my nose.