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He headed toward the back of the train where the dining car was located. It was full as predicted, but his eyes immediately caught sight of a bright head of hair near the middle of the room.
Finally.
It was about time.
She was sitting staring out the large plate-glass window next to her, still dressed in the same outfit he initially saw her wearing in Union Station, minus the dark gray cloak. Though she was without the thick woolen covering, the blouse she wore was just as loose and baggy and somewhat in the same dull shade.
Without diverting his attention from her, he made his way slowly toward the table. Seated with her was the couple he noticed in her travelling compartment. The gentleman appeared uncomfortable and rather bored with the chatty woman across from him in the flamboyant hat.
None of them saw him approach.
“Excuse me, it appears all the tables are full and I see you have an empty seat. Would you mind kindly if I joined you?”
The copper-haired woman turned almost reluctantly from the window, dragging her gaze away to look up at him. Sam was struck immediately by the unusual color of her eyes. He assumed she bore the usual green most redheads did. As his mother had. Instead, these were such a light blue they appeared eerily translucent. Capped by a pair of equally nearly transparent set of brows, they appeared cold and lifeless.
He watched as those frosty eyes rounded at the sight of him, before her head gave a little jerk and she drew her attention back to the window.
Interesting, Sam thought. She feared him.
“Certainly,” the man said, acknowledging Sam first with a polite nod, though admittedly looked less than enthused.
Sam slipped around him and took the chair opposite the copper-haired woman. However, she did not bother to look his way again. Her eyes appeared transfixed permanently on the window.
Turning to the man next to him, he stuck out a friendly hand. “Sam Michalski is the name. Yourself?”
As if reluctant to accept the offered hand, the man nevertheless took it, careful not to allow his fingers to close around Sam’s before quickly snatching it back. “Harold Radford and my wife Allison Radford.”
Sam plastered a huge grin on his face as he reached over the table and shoved his hand under the woman’s nose. “Howdy, ma’am.”
She looked disgruntled, but took his hand all the same. Sam’s scrutiny slid back to the woman sitting next to her, waiting for the introduction. But none came forthwith. Either from the woman or from her companions.
Sam settled back i
n his seat and eyed her, knowing if he waited long enough he could draw her out. Hell, he had four hours to kill. Still, it vaguely surprised him when her gaze did not so much as falter, so apparently riveted to the scene outside her window.
“Are you ready to order, sir?” A waiter had materialized and forced Sam to draw his attention from the copper-headed woman.
The rest of the occupants at the table had seemingly ordered as the waiter was looking directly at him. Sam cleared his throat and pulled out the menu in front of him, scanning it quickly but not really reading it. Instead, he handed it back to the waiter and said, “The special will be fine.”
“Very well, sir.”
With the waiter gone, he turned his focus back to the woman. Still nothing. Eyes the color of blue frost stared out the window. They had a glassy look about them, reminding him of a dog Roy had years ago. The animal had been part dog, part wolf, and bore a set of unusual periwinkle eyes.
The train lurched slightly as it crossed over some uneven stretch of track causing the tea cups to rattle softly in their saucers. Sam leaned back in his chair and openly watched her from across the table, staring her down while waiting.
“What brings you on board the train?” Harold Radford asked.
Sighing inwardly, Sam dragged his gaze away from his suspect and offered the gentleman an obligatory glance before returning it to the woman. “Business.”
One thick eyebrow arched. “You do say. What kind of business are you in, Mr. Michalski?”
“The acquisitions kind.”
Harold Radford’s bushy brows came together. “What is it you acquire?”
Sam’s brows slanted downward as he looked at the woman across from him who still refused to return his gaze. “Let’s just say in exchange for a very handsome price, I track down something greatly sought after.”
“You’re a fortune hunter?” Harold’s face lit up with excitement.
