Read Online Murder on the Orient Espresso by Sandra Balzo - Free Book Online Page B

take Prudence’s advice. It required me to push my way past the exit to the front car, but at least I wouldn’t risk getting off and being left behind.
    Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one in search of libations. In fact, the line for the lone bartender was past Boyce/Bouc’s espresso bar and out onto the platform. This seemed a problem in light of both Prudence’s warning and the ‘All aboard!’ that somebody was shouting.
    As I moved to the end of the line, a crack of thunder echoed. ‘That bitch would have left me here in the rain,’ I muttered under my breath.
    â€˜I’m sorry?’ Markus/MacQueen stood on the platform.
    â€˜I just said “the … weather’s a bitch.”’
    â€˜Sure you did.’ With a grin he stepped back and waved for me to get in line in front of him.
    â€˜Thank you, but there’s no need. I’ll just get a coffee for now.’
    â€˜All aboard!’ again.
    I beckoned. ‘We’d better get on before the train starts to move.’
    â€˜You think the bitch will leave us in the rain?’ Markus flashed me a grin.
    I smiled sheepishly as he and I both part pushed and part edged our way into the train vestibule.
    With multiple apologies and explanations, I continued on, bypassing the queue for the bar to get to the espresso station where there was no line at all.
    I hesitated, not sure how welcome I’d be given our earlier conversation, but Boyce greeted me like an old friend – a sure sign he was bored. ‘I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night. Pete’s doing gangbuster business, though. I’m thinking I should give him a hand rather than standing here twiddling my thumbs.’
    â€˜Pete is the bartender?’ I asked, taking in the dark blue uniform the good-looking young man was wearing.
    â€˜Not really, but that’s what Missy is calling him. He’s also the conductor.’
    â€˜What?’ I didn’t get it.
    Boyce laughed. ‘Missy needed a bartender who could play “Pierre Michel,” conductor of the Orient Express. Tomorrow, Pete/Pierre Michel goes back to being Brandon, a server at the Olive Garden.’
    Pete, it was. ‘Do you want to help him while I staff the coffee bar for you?’
    â€˜I think I will, but there’s no need for you to stay. If somebody does show up, I can always slide over and handle it.’
    Old friend, perhaps, but this man had no intention of letting me get near his equipment.
    Which was fine, I reminded myself. This was my vacation, after all. ‘I’m sure there’ll be a stampede for coffee once the cake is cut.’
    â€˜That’s not going to be until after the program,’ Boyce said. ‘In the meantime, can I get you liquored up on an espresso martini and you can show these people what they’re missing?’
    â€˜Gladly. And better make it a double.’
    â€˜Yes, ma’am. Double espresso or double vodka?’
    â€˜Both, please,’ I said as Boyce tipped the espresso shot into the plastic martini glass. ‘Do you know what kind of program is planned? Are we going to get clues and skulk around questioning suspects?’
    A shake of the head. ‘I’m not sure how elaborate it’s going to be,’ Boyce said, adding the clear alcohol. ‘Missy told me her boss was willing to go along with the theme, but pointed out that the majority of the people – who are repeat attendees – would want to have a drink and catch up with each other on the first night.’
    â€˜Well, she’s certainly right about the drink part,’ I said as the train lurched away from the station. I was relieved to see that, though the exit door was still open, nobody was marooned on the platform. ‘Let’s hope the engineer goes slowly enough that we don’t lose anyone.’
    â€˜I believe “slow” is part of the arrangement, given the train route