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“Yes. He’s a good man, and he’s more than willing to have the help. They’re also dealing with an influx of drugs tainted with Fentanyl. Two people have died so far, and several more have been hospitalized.”
“We’ll do what we can,” Logan said. “When we get back to the hotel, we’ll get to work.”
“I’ve got to go, but have you seen the local paper there?”
Logan frowned at Alex. “The local paper? No. It’s pretty early here.”
“Read it when you can,” Harrison said. “I’m sure they picked up a story from Kansas City.” Then without a good-bye, he hung up.
Logan looked at Alex, who was still staring at him with a worried look.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Logan told her about Jimmy Gedrose and Harrison’s instructions.
“But whatever we can come up with should be presented to the team at the CP in person,” Alex said.
Logan shrugged. “I know, but we’re not in charge.”
“We’ll just have to do the best we can. What was that about the local paper?”
“My guess is there’s already been a fifth killing. After that, the Train Man needs only one more before he unleashes that virus, right? Let’s head over to the hotel. They should have papers in the lobby. If not, we’ll just check online. We also need to tell the hotel we’re staying.”
“What about Keith?”
“Harrison’s taking care of that. I guess we’re stranded here for a while.”
“I hope the WPD makes finding this Gedrose guy a priority.”
“I’m sure they’ll do the best they can, but they’re overloaded with some kind of Fentanyl-laced drugs that are killing people.”
Alex sighed. “Too many of those cases. The bad guys never take a day off, do they?”
“I guess not. We’d better get going.”
They went out to their rental car and drove to the hotel—slowly. The streets were slick, and the snow kept coming. Logan finally pulled up in front of the building that housed the hotel’s office. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Inside, a young man walked up to the counter, and Logan asked about extending their stay a few more days. Thankfully, they had vacancies, and they wouldn’t have to change rooms.
“Can we get some extra coffee?” Logan asked. The clerk grabbed several packets from under the counter and put them in a plastic bag. “I couldn’t get by on one cup a day either,” he said with a smile. Logan thanked him and then asked about a local newspaper.
“They’re over there. Help yourself.” The guy pointed toward a long, thin, dark wood table against the far wall. It also held a coffee maker. Thankful for some immediate hot coffee, Logan poured a cup, then grabbed a newspaper.
The front-page headline stopped him cold: Killer Calling Himself the Train Man Sends Letter to Kansas City Journal.
