Mr. Sayers returned, he placed her bags on the extra bed. “It’s a good idea for all of you to stick together,” the conductor said. His attention riveted on Doro. “Keeping passengers safe is my top priority.”
The veiled warning was not lost on Doro, who gathered her composure before responding. “That’s good to know.”
Although Sayers looked as if he wanted to issue another warning, he nodded. “More rain is coming, but it shouldn’t delay the repair crew’s arrival.”
“Are they coming from Colorado Springs or Dodge City?” Gramma Rose asked.
“I’m not sure, ma’am,” he replied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to check on—uh—the professor and grab some food.”
After the door closed behind Sayers, Rose gestured to the seat beside her. “Make yourself comfortable, Mrs. O’Brien. Do you enjoy whist?”
“I do,” the other woman replied.
Before her grandmother asked the two girls to join the game, Doro suggested a walk through the train. Her friend readily agreed. As soon as they left the compartment, Doro paused. “We’re lucky Mrs. O’Brien joined us. Although I don’t mind playing whist occasionally, I don’t want to spend all afternoon doing it.”
“Me, either,” Aggie said with a grin. “Your grandmother looked like she wanted to issue another warning, but thought better of it. Probably because she didn’t want Mrs. O’Brien more upset.”
“Probably so,” Doro agreed. “The dining car, with its small kitchen, is the only one ahead of us. Then, there are only three more cars after this one: the regular compartment, the crew sleeping car, and the caboose, so we could amble along and see what’s happening. Mr. Sayers was headed the opposite way, so we should have a little time.”
A grin tugged at the corner of Aggie’s mouth. “To ask questions.”
“If we cross paths with people, I’m sure we’ll chat.” Doro could not keep a lilt of humor from her voice. Aggie knew her well. A walk was never just a walk when a crime had occurred.
“I’m sure we will,” Aggie agreed with a trace of asperity.
The friends went through the rest of their car without seeing anyone. When they exited, both looked out the gangway window. Rain made it impossible to see very far. “Mr. Sayers didn’t think the repairmen would be delayed, but I wonder if that’s wishful thinking.”
“Even if they arrive in a timely manner, they can’t replace the coupler in this downpour,” Aggie observed.
“No, they can’t. But let’s go on, so we don’t run into Sayers while we’re out-and-about.”
The next carriage also contained compartments. As they passed the doors, the two friends heard voices but nothing related to the murder. Since the sleeper car for crew members followed, they moved along quietly. The waiters had planned to get much needed rest, so the friends continued to the caboose, which was empty.
“I don’t think we should snoop in there,” Aggie said as soon as Doro opened the door. “It’s private. The sign says so.”
Doro rolled her eyes. “The men are a few cars away and outside, so this is our best chance to see if there’s any evidence here. Since the conductor’s desk is right there, I’d like to take a quick peek.” She gestured to the battered oak desk in the near corner.
“All right, but hurry.”
While her friend waited in the gangway, Doro rushed to search the drawers. Most were filled with detritus. After a last study of the caboose, she rejoined Aggie. “Nothing of interest.”
“Let’s get out of here before someone catches us,” Aggie said.
After a last perusal of the area, Doro followed Aggie across the gangway, through the crew’s sleeper car, and back to their drawing room. Both young women were breathless by the time they stopped at the door. Before either spoke, Phineas entered from the opposite end. Dismay flashed across his face. Then, he smiled. “Good day, ladies.”
“Hello,” Aggie replied.
The young man’s initial reaction to seeing them provoked curiosity in Doro. “We missed you at breakfast.”
Phineas’ smile wavered as he rocked back on his heels and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I had a late night.”
“So, we heard from your friend.” Doro scrutinized Phineas.
He cleared his throat. “Gray mentioned running into you two and being invited for tea and scones. I could use something myself, since lunch is two hours away.”
“We have a couple of scones left,” Aggie replied, “and a hot pot to make tea.”
“Sounds great,” he replied, but his grin still did not match his gaze.
“Come along, and we’ll see you get fed.” Doro tapped on the door and called out to her grandmother. “We have more company.”
Gramma Rose answered with, “Come in, come in.” She introduced Mrs. O’Brien to the young man.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Phineas said.
The elderly widow returned the greeting with a smile. “It’s my pleasure.”
After preparing a light snack and handing it to their guest, Doro and Aggie sat at the table while Gramma Rose and Mrs. O’Brien remained on the divan. “Sit down, young man,” the latter gestured to the seat across from them.
Phineas hesitated a moment before accepting her offer. “Sorry to bother you, ladies.” He took a bite of scone, followed by a swallow of tea.
“It’s no bother,” Gramma Rose assured him.
“Not at all,” the elderly widow agreed. She waved one hand around the compartment. “I’m a guest here, too, but for the rest of the ride. Or at least until the murderer is found.” She folded and unfolded her hands. “I’m a tad nervous, but I feel better not being alone.”
Phineas laid what was left of his scone on the saucer before draining his cup. “I see.”
The banal response seemed odd. “You’ve heard about Professor Mathers.” Doro voiced a statement, not a question.
Phineas blinked as if something was in his eyes. “Gray told me when he came back to our compartment.”
His lack of reaction, no surprise or dismay, bothered Doro. “We heard you were one of the professor’s students as an undergraduate, but you left Pikeley after a couple of years.”
He licked his lips. “I did. Pikeley is an excellent school, although not as well-known or respected as Colorado College. Transferring was a wise decision.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Aggie put in, “but it’s unusual to transfer from one school to another in the same area. Did you change majors?”
Her friend’s astute observation pleased, but did not surprise, Doro. Although Aggie was often reserved, she was intelligent and intuitive, and her unassuming manner lowered people’s barriers. Would it work with Phineas?
After a moment, he shrugged. “I kept majoring in science, but the professors at Colorado have a different slant. It’s a better place for me.”
His explanation, which seemed strange, also confirmed that Phineas must have studied with Mathers. But what sort of different slant would anyone have on science? “Aggie and I both went to Michaw College, which is where we work. It’s a fine school for us, as students and as professors,” Doro said.
Phineas’ taut expression relaxed. “I was in two of your father’s classes as an undergraduate. He mentioned Michaw a few times and both of you.”
Doro grinned. “He loved teaching there, and so do we.”
“I hope to find a school that suits me as well. Being a professor is my dream.” Phin ran his fingers through his hair. “If Gray and I can be in the same place, we’d be ecstatic. If we can earn doctorates, we’d have more options. But Gray can’t afford that, and my father won’t pay, so I can’t, either.”
“Professors having doctorates is becoming more and more common,” Doro put in, “but neither Aggie nor I have them. Only a handful of our colleagues do, so you might aim to teach at a smaller school.”
The young man nodded. “We will.”
“Working with your best friend is wonderful,” Aggie put in with a smile. “We’re fortunate, and I hope you and Mr. Bailey will be, too.”
“We planned to try, but now, I don’t know. Gray may be set on staying in Colorado Springs,” the young man said.
“Because Mrs. Mathers is now a widow,” Gramma Rose said.
Her grandmother’s blunt statement did not surprise Doro, but Phineas blanched.
“I...that is, I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have.” Phineas stared into his cup. “He didn’t kill Mathers, if that’s what you’re thinking. And neither did I, for that matter. Neither of us liked the man, but a hundred others could say the same. Maybe a thousand others. Some people respected him, mostly due to his position and wealth. Many more knew what he really was.”
“What was that?” Gramma Rose’s voice was gentle and cajoling.
The young man’s jaw tightened. “An overbearing, arrogant, dishonest boor.” Phineas’ glance traveled around the group. “Most of his scholarship and most of his writing were based on the work of his students. Some say it was different when he was younger. I don’t know. I only know it wasn’t that way when I took his classes, and it isn’t now.” He shifted to the edge of his chair, as if he was ready to rise.
With only a few minutes in the station, Doro’s father had not revealed his opinion of Professor Mathers, although his attitude had been civil, not effusive. But the allegations of stealing students’ work troubled her. Could it connect to the murder? Gray Bailey had an emotional motive. Did Phineas have an academic one? Unsure, Doro went on to other matters. “What time did you and Gray leave the club car?” As soon as the question was out, she cringed at the lack of transition. But Phineas was about to bolt, and Doro wanted to see if he would confirm his friend’s responses.
“Late,” the young man replied.
The terse answer increased Doro’s skepticism. Why not be specific? To cover up the crime? Or because he’d been intoxicated and did not recall?
Gramma Rose chuckled. “Young Mr. Bailey admitted to imbibing, but that hardly comes as a shock. There are a fair number of bootleggers in our area, which is probably true in many places. It’s not stunning that young fellas like yourselves would have a few drinks while gambling.”
Color suffused his rounded cheeks. “My father doesn’t approve of consuming alcohol, now that it’s illegal. He poured his supply out as soon as the Volstead Act passed.”
“People could drink what they had,” Aggie put in. “The law didn’t prohibit that.”
“Father is an attorney, and he’s interested in running for office. As his son, I have to be on the straight and narrow.” Phineas bit off the words like each one tasted bitter.
“What does he think about you wanting to be a professor?” Doro asked.
A guffaw left Phineas. “He’s still pressuring me to go to law school, but I love science.” His expression grew forlorn. “If I don’t get a position right after graduation, he’ll cut off all financial assistance unless I follow in his footsteps.”
“I’m sure you’ll find a job,” Aggie said.
“I hope so.” Phineas stood up. “Gray will wonder where I am. Thank you for the tea and scone.”
The women barely got their farewells out before he was gone. When the door closed behind Phineas, Doro slumped back into her chair. “I wanted to ask more questions, especially about Custis, but working them in was difficult.”
“Phineas’ conversation was fairly superficial, and he seemed hesitant to say a lot,” Aggie observed. “Maybe admitting he consumed booze was the reason, but I wouldn’t eliminate him as a suspect.”
Since her friend’s observation mirrored Doro’s impression, she nodded. “What about you, Gram? What do you think?”
The older woman tapped the book on her lap. “I don’t disagree with anything either of you have said. Phineas evidently relies on family money for his living expenses, which increases his dependency. For a young man his age, that has to be difficult. Most of his peers are already working.”
“Hmm,” Doro murmured. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but you’re right. Gray told us Phineas paid for their compartment, since his family is well-to-do.”
“That was kind,” Mrs. O’Brien observed.
“It was, but I wonder if he often helps his friends that way,” Aggie said. “He acts rather unsure of himself. Like wondering if he can find a teaching position. He must be a decent student, or wouldn’t be in a master’s program.”
“Or consider a doctorate,” Gramma Rose said.
Doro clasped her hands. “That’s true. What bothers me most is the talk about Mathers using his students’ work and passing it off as his own. I’d have been furious if that had happened to me.”
“Me, too,” Aggie agreed. “It seems like Mathers hid his academic dishonesty by accusing his students of being the plagiarizers, which would be even more aggravating.”
“Both Gray and Phineas hinted at or stated that idea,” Doro added. “If Phineas was accused, his father would be angry.”
Aggie nodded. “Last evening, it sounded like Mathers wanted to interfere with Phineas’ thesis. What if the professor planned to say the thesis was based on stolen work?”
For several moments, Doro considered the idea. “Even an accusation could cause trouble for Phineas. From the way he spoke, his father might use any excuse to get him into law school.”
Gramma Rose pursed her lips. “Could he be admitted with a plagiarism accusation hanging over his head?”
“An excellent point, because it could be an impediment.” Doro grinned. “I’m glad we have you working with us.”
Her grandmother beamed. “It’s intriguing to discuss clues and suspects. Even better than reading a mystery.”
“I agree,” Mrs. O’Brien added. “In light of what young Phineas said, I wonder about what happened to Custis, who was smart as a whip. When he was at our house, he mentioned doing extra research before he lost his scholarship. Seemed odd he’d lose out when he’d been chosen to take on special assignments.”
The observation put a knot in Doro’s stomach. “Somehow, we have to find out why he lost the grant.”
“Asking Phineas outright isn’t likely to work,” Aggie suggested.
“No, it won’t. He’d clam up completely,” Doro said.
“Just like in mystery books,” the widow observed.
“Do you enjoy reading whodunits?” Aggie asked.
Mrs. O’Brien nodded. “Oh, my, yes. My husband enjoyed Sherlock Holmes, and he picked up many of those books in his travels. When he was away, I spent all my free time reading. Now, I’m working on Agatha Christie’s mysteries. Such good stories.”
“We love her work, too,” Doro said.
“Doro teaches a course on mystery novels,” Aggie said. “Students enjoy it tremendously.”
Mrs. O’Brien clasped her hands together. “I can imagine. No wonder you girls have become detectives.”
“I only read the books and help Doro,” Aggie said. “She’s the real sleuth.”
“Aggie teaches and writes poetry,” Gramma Rose added. “Both of them are accomplished young ladies.”
“Sharing wonderful mystery books with students is a joy. I always include at least one I haven’t read myself, so we can solve it together,” Doro told the widow.
“Working through clues keeps the mind sharp,” Mrs. O’Brien said. “I suppose it’s even more challenging with real life mysteries.”
“It is. Although I’m always sorry when there’s a crime, solving them is satisfying,” Doro put in.
A frown accentuated the wrinkles on Mrs. O’Brien’s forehead. “It’s a shame Mr. Sayers doesn’t support you investigating. But he’s right about keeping passengers safe.”
“He is,” Gramma Rose said before looking straight at Doro. “You invited Phineas to join us for a reason.”
Doro cleared her throat. “He missed breakfast.”
Gramma Rose rolled her eyes, as a snort of laughter escaped Aggie. Meanwhile, Mrs. O’Brien peered at Doro over her spectacles. “You asked some pointed questions.”
Clearly, Doro was not kidding any of these women. The invitation to Phineas had stemmed from wanting a whack at questioning him. “It doesn’t hurt to ask.”
“I hope not,” the widow said in a worried tone. “But I feel like I’ve missed some things.”
After explaining the one-time relationship between Luann Mathers and Grayson Bailey, Doro followed with her opinion. “Gray has a solid motive, and Phineas might, too. We don’t have enough details about him.”
“His anger must stem from his freshman and sophomore years at Pikeley,” Gramma Rose suggested.
Aggie nodded. “That seems likely.”
After a moment, Doro made another observation. “It’s such a small school that he had to know Custis.”
“I’m racking my brain for any mention of a Phineas or a Spieth. Custis never brought a friend with him to visit us, and we usually talked about his father and other railroaders. I wish I could help,” Mrs. O’Brien said.
“Maybe something will come to you later,” Aggie said.
The elderly widow sighed. “I hope so, my dear.”
After fetching her notebook and pencil, Doro jotted a few notes. Since Mrs. O’Brien was proving to be an asset, Doro decided the woman’s perspective might prove even more useful. “Even though the conductor doesn’t want us asking a lot of questions, we could discuss the case. Sort of like if we were all reading the same book.” She hoped the idea sounded benign, because she was dying to go over her ideas.
“That wouldn’t hurt anything.” Mrs. O’Brien smiled. “In fact, I’d like to hear how you girls approach a case.”
Although Gramma Rose looked more skeptical, she nodded. “Just talking is safe.”
The caveat was clear, so Doro began with the simplest facts. “Phineas, Gray, Clyde, and Chef Andre all have long-term resentment toward the professor.”
“In addition, all four of them had altercations with Mathers last night,” Aggie said. “The professor berated Joshua, who didn’t talk back.”
“The young waiter might harbor antipathy, since he had no outward reaction to the professor’s ranting,” Gramma Rose pointed out. “Not that I want to believe such a nice young man is a killer.”
Doro rolled the pencil between her hands. “That’s a good assessment, and I don’t want to believe it, either.”
“I can’t believe he’d harm anyone myself,” Mrs. O’Brien murmured. “But I don’t always figure out who committed crimes in books.”
“I doubt if any of us do,” Gramma Rose added.
Laughter left Aggie. “Doro does.”
“Not always,” Doro insisted, but her friend was right. She almost always figured out whodunit before the end of a book.
Aggie shrugged. “To get back to this situation, I agree with all of you. Unfortunately, Doro and I have learned that sometimes people act out of character.”
“Just like in a book,” the elderly widow said. “I’ve never been sure if authors stick to facts or embellish.”
Thinking of her own novel, Doro offered insight. “Most writers aim to be as accurate as possible with details. If a character acts oddly, he or she needs a powerful reason. Of course, that’s often somewhat murky to readers.”
“But hints are given,” the widow said.
A grin lit Aggie’s face. “Subtle hints are best, since I like a challenge.”
Gramma Rose’s blue eyes sparkled. “I’m no amateur detective, but I love solving mysteries in books. A mix of subtle hints and stronger ones is helpful to me.”
Because her grandmother was, like Doro, an avid fan of whodunits, Rose McLaren was well aware of how cases were solved. Fiction did not always align with reality, but it came close. “You’re sharp, and I appreciate your contributions.” Doro turned to Mrs. O’Brien. “We’ll be happy to have your involvement, too.”
“We will,” Aggie said with a grin.
Gramma Rose chuckled as she focused on Doro. “You’re a top-notch amateur sleuth, and Aggie is on par with you.”
“Not really, but I help as I can,” Aggie said.
Their praise lifted Doro’s spirits, but the current case still had her puzzled. How she wanted to solve it before a lawman came on the scene. Mr. Sayers’ lack of support galled her, but so did Dr. Cartwright’s reluctant backing. “You’re a big help. As for our suspects, I’d put Joshua down the list. We won’t eliminate him, but he seems the least likely perpetrator to me.”
“To me, too,” Aggie said. “We definitely need more details. Talking with Grayson Bailey emphasized the close connection between him and Luann Mathers. A thwarted romance is a powerful motive.”
“And Gray was furious with Mathers,” Doro said. “Phineas was, too. We can assume it relates to when he was a student of Mathers, but we need details.”
“Do you believe the professor used Phineas’ work as his own? Would a freshman or sophomore have a report or research worth stealing?” Gramma Rose asked.
“It’s possible, but not probable,” Doro replied. “At least not in my experience.”
“I agree,” Aggie said. “The professor would be more likely to steal from a senior or graduate student. However, Phineas was irate, so there’s something we don’t know.”
“Gray mentioned Phineas getting lower grades at Pikeley. If they were from Mathers, that could be a motive. Especially since Mr. Spieth expects excellence from his son,” Gramma Rose put in.
Doro rolled her pencils between her palms. “Phineas might’ve lost his allowance for a while as a result. Something else we’d need to find out.” For a moment, she studied her notes. “I’d sure like to eliminate another suspect.”
“That’d be useful. Right now, we have five.” Aggie provided the list. “Phineas, Grayson, and Clyde would be my top choices, with Chef Andre and Joshua being down the list.”
Gramma Rose and Mrs. O’Brien agreed, and so did Doro before continuing with her ideas on getting more information. “We didn’t find anything in the caboose, but we might if we search the kitchen.”
Her grandmother frowned. “You went in the caboose?”
The question made Doro hurry to cover up. “Only me, and only for a few minutes. Aggie stood lookout. We weren’t in any peril.”
The older woman studied the two younger ladies. “Why do I think you’ve downplayed the danger in your previous investigations?”
After exchanging a look with her best friend, Doro forced a smile. “I wouldn’t say we were in danger.” She would not admit they had been. “Even with the lost exam, Aggie and I had help. Lately, Wade and Ev have been involved.” Her comments were subterfuge, not reality, especially in regard to their last investigation.
“That’s right,” Aggie agreed.
“Your young men were out of action during most of the May case,” Rose observed, studying the two friends. “That left you two on your own.”
The first statement needed correction, and the second required refutation. “Ev isn’t my young man, and both he and Wade provided help during the case,” Doro said. Her grandmother didn’t need to know the lawmen had been too sick to lend physical aid.
“Are your young men are with the police?” Mrs. O’Brien asked with avid interest.
After explaining their exact jobs, Doro reiterated her relationship—or lack thereof—with Ev. “The security officer and I share ownership of a puppy.”
A snort left Gramma Rose, while the other older lady looked pensive before making an observation. “My husband and I grew up on the same block. I always maintained we were just neighbors, but I was sweet on him as far back as I remember. He took a little longer to be interested in me.”
Aggie grinned. “Sometimes, it’s the girl who takes longer to figure things out.”
Heat scorched Doro’s cheeks as she struggled for something to say that would end the speculation. She was still thinking when her friend spoke.
Aggie supported part of Doro’s response. “We talked to them as soon as they were able. Of course, they made the arrest.”
Gramma Rose’s expression grew contemplative. “I won’t pose direct queries because when the constable dropped you off at my house, he was careful in how he answered my questions about the case. I doubt if either of you will admit as much.”
Aggie bit her lower lip. “You didn’t ask Wade many questions.”
A knowing smile touched Rose McLaren’s lips. “We chatted on the porch while you got lemonade and cookies.”
Realization dawned on Aggie’s face. “Oh.”
Gramma Rose turned to Doro. “The constable mentioned you having Aggie call him when you were chasing after the poisoner. Alone.”
Dismay knotted Doro’s insides. After a moment, she regained control. Her grandmother had known only bits of the story about the culprit who had poisoned Wade and Ev. But Rose McLaren evidently possessed more bits than Doro knew. “You didn’t mention that to Mother and Dad.” It was a statement and a question.
“No, because they’d worry more than they do now,” her grandmother replied.
“But you won’t worry.” Doro proposed the idea in a tentative tone.
A shrug moved her grandmother’s narrow shoulders. “I fret, dear. About both of you, but Aggie is more circumspect, while you’re adventurous. The balance makes you a fine team. And usually, you have your young men working with you.”
Doro opened her mouth to object to the repeated use of the phrase young men, but Gramma Rose lifted one hand. “You’re focused on becoming the head librarian and always have been. At next week’s meeting, the trustees may vote to employ working wives. That would eliminate part of your hesitance to step out with Officer Mallow, wouldn’t it?”
After her initial surprise at her grandmother’s bold question, Doro turned to Aggie, who put both hands up. Clearly, her friend and her grandmother had discussed her friendship, such as it was, with Ev. “I’d like to focus on this case.”
Her grandmother put her hand over her mouth, but a sound similar to a chuckle left her. “Of course, dear.”
Mrs. O’Brien looked on with undisguised fascination. Luckily, she remained silent.
Although rattled, Doro studied her notes. Unfortunately, Ev’s handsome face rose in her mind. With determination, she thrust all thoughts of him aside. “We’ve named the suspects, so let’s discuss clues and challenges. Clyde insists his grudge with Mathers is none of our business. But we know something happened between them.” She glanced at the widow. “He was upset when we asked.”
The widow clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m not surprised. Losing Custis in that terrible accident devastated both Clyde and his wife. After their boy’s funeral, Annabelle told me about Clyde feeling guilty for not providing better for his family. With more money, Custis could’ve continued his schooling, so his father is angry with the professor. But I don’t have details.”
“It’s hard for students whose families aren’t well-off,” Aggie put in. “I couldn’t have attended college without a scholarship.”
Doro knew her friend was thinking about how she had nearly suffered the same fate as Custis. “I wish more young people had the opportunity to attend a university.” She sighed. “I also wish we knew if Professor Mathers had anything to do with Custis losing his funding.”
“I wish I could help more,” Mrs. O’Brien said, “but I have no details.”
“We understand,” Aggie said. “Do you think other crewmen might?”
The widow scrunched her brow, as if in deep concentration. “Both the brakeman and the flagman, Mr. Rogers and Mr. Smithers, have been with the railroad for many years.” She smiled. “They were kind enough to check on me, since they worked a number of runs with my husband. Anyhow, they’ve surely known Clyde a long time, so they might be able to help you.”
After making a note, Doro thanked the woman. How would she question the two crewmen without Sayers knowing? She’d find a way. “Another point is Chef Andre stating he knows nothing about his waiters’ personal matters. Does that ring true to you, Mrs. O’Brien? You said railroaders are close-knit. Would that extend to the chef?”
“Some are friendlier than others,” the widow replied. “But everyone is acquainted, so I’d think he has some idea of what was between Clyde and the professor.”
“Aggie and I will see about talking with the brakeman and flagman after lunch. With the utmost discretion.”
“Very wise,” Mrs. O’Brien said. “Although they aren’t among your suspects, the murderer is apt to be watching the two of you.”
“As I said, we’ll be cautious.” But she was not sure if she added the reassurance for the older women, or for herself. During past cases, the killer had not been stranded in a confined area with them. And, despite her earlier comments, Doro knew well that she and Aggie did not have Wade and Ev to help.