We watch the first victims, and I’m trying to catch anything out of the ordinary, but nothing jumps out at me, except the victims making out. Then Mya places the Boston drive in, and we watch that.
“Wait,” she says, pausing the footage.
“What is it?” I ask.
“How long is the stop normally in Boston, before the train leaves for New York?” she asks.
“About forty-five minutes,” I say.
“If someone has a ticket to New York, they don’t have to get off the train if they don’t want to, correct?”
“That is true,” I say, still trying to catch up to where she is going with this.
“What do the conductors do during this stop? Shouldn’t they be making sure that the passengers still on the train are actually going to New York?”
“Yes,” I say, still a little slow.
“So what were they doing for thirty minutes before the bodies were found and the police were alerted? Who told the passengers to disembark from the train, and where would they go to catch one to New York? Also, who would have told the passengers that got off for a break, the new train? I’m sure someone asked about their bags and such,” Mya states.
“Wow, you are brilliant. None of those questions ever crossed my mind. But we know the third and fourth couple victims were found by other passengers, only the first two were found by conductors,” I tell her.
“So let’s time the second train,” she says as she puts the thumb drive in, and we watch.
Again, this couple is also making out for the world to see. We watch as they board business class with the same conductor as before. Again, he interacts with the female, and we watch as she shakes her head before getting on the train, with the man saying something to the conductor before he gets on behind the female.
“We definitely need to find out who he is,” I say.
We watch the train leave, then change to the next thumb drive, where they arrive in Boston. Again, it’s thirty minutes before anyone notices and reports.
We watch the final two days, and the same conductor is onboarding the business car and says something to the females, who all shake their heads no.
“I wonder what he asked them?” I say aloud.
“Me too,” Mya says.
“Looks like we may have our suspect,” I add.
“I agree. I think you and I should take the train back to Boston tomorrow and meet this conductor,” Mya says, then looks over at Heath, “Are you okay to drive to Boston, or would you prefer to take the train as well?”
“I think we should all take the train. You too can take business class, and I’ll take economy class, see if the conductor can recall anything about Rayeanne,” he says.
“I like that. Okay, looks like we are taking an army train tomorrow morning. Let me call Eric and tell him our plans and what we may have found,” Mya says, getting up from the couch and grabbing her phone.
In the morning, we all arrive early at the Largo Amtrak station. Mya already purchased the tickets with approval from Eric and Commander Doyle. When I called him, explaining what we found and suspected, he was onboard with the idea and wished us luck. All we need to do is go in and take a seat.
“Okay, Heath, Shane, and I will make out like the other victims, try to do the same things they did,” Mya tells him.
“You just want a reason to make out,” Heath says, laughing, and I can’t say he’s wrong, at least on my end. I watch as Mya blushes, and I think it’s true for her as well.
“Just observe and let me know if you see anything off,” Mya tells him.
“Those are off,” he says, pointing to someone’s pajamas. “That style went out in the ninety’s for persnickety sake, why are people so keen to bring that God awful shit back?” he says, and I can’t help but laugh, as we leave him to judge what people are wearing this early in the morning.
Both Mya and I are dressed in our business work attire. We start by sitting in the same vicinity as all the victims did and begin to make out.
God, I could kiss this woman all day and night. Nothing, and I mean nothing, feels or tastes better than her. My hand snakes up her shirt to cup her breast, and I hear her moan as I tease her nipple.
I forget we are in a train station until I hear the boarding call.
“Damn, baby, I’m sorry. I forgot where we were,” I tell her softly as I try to get my breathing, and hard-on under control.
“I know, me too,” she whispers back, taking deep breaths to also get her breathing under control.
We stand up together and grab our bags, walking toward the platform and our car. We stand in line, and I nibble on her ear, and neck and she giggles.
We get to the conductor, and it’s the same man from the videos.
“Hello folks, I need to see your tickets, please,” he says, looking Mya up and down as I pass the phone with the tickets to him to scan.
“My name is Cavanaugh, but you can call me Casanova, pretty lady,” he tells Mya, and I want to punch him.
“Interesting name,” she says, playing along.
“Have you ever wanted a duo?” he asks, and she shakes her head.
“No, one is more than enough for me,” she says, siding up to me.
