Read Online The Drazen World: The California Limited (Kindle Worlds Novella) by Catherine C. Heywood - Free Book Online
Authors: Catherine C. Heywood
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Stopped in the Harvey House for a quick bite. Then she went to the restroom and just vanished.”
“Women can take awhile in there.” His tone was condescending and dismissive. “With all their do-dads and what-nots.” He flicked a hand strangely as if to indicate a woman’s entire hygiene routine with a gesture.
Jack pursed his lips. “I waited more than a half hour for her, then checked the restroom myself.” He didn’t care if the officer arrested him for indecency. “She is a beautiful young woman come to California without knowing a soul. She could be hurt or in great danger right now.”
“How do you know her, then?” the officer asked, though his tone was decidedly more interested. “You called her a friend, said you arrived on the train together, then just now said she doesn’t know a soul here. So which is it?”
Jack sighed and stepped back. “We met on the train and became friends. I don’t believe she knew a soul here.”
Now the officer appeared sympathetic. “I don’t mean to insult you, Mack, but maybe she used you. A drink here. A meal there. You look fine. All Brooks Brothers and shine. A handsome devil and young. Maybe she thought, Now there’s a man with some dollars to spare. I’ll cozy up. Give him a kiss. You know.”
Exasperated, Jack put his hands on his hips. “That’s not at all what happened.” Yet even as he said it, his mind was allowing it. Could he have been taken in by a confidence artist? “No. We—we liked each other. A lot. I know her and she knows me. She’s missing and needs me to find her.”
“All right. Follow me.” The officer led Jack to a central counter with the word POLICE above it. “We’ll just fill out a missing person’s report, then.”
Jack nodded.
The officer bent over some papers, holding a pen. “Her name?”
“Minnie.”
The officer flicked a glance at him. “Last name?”
Jack bent his head, thinking. Was it possible that he did not know her last name? Had he been so happy to hear her say Minnie that he had not pressed for more? His breath left him in an embarrassed huff. “I don’t know. I don’t know her last name.”
The officer rolled his eyes and scribbled something when Jack saw the porter who had made up Minnie’s coach compartment that first night.
“He knows her.” Jack pointed and signaled to the porter to come over. “What was the name of the beautiful young woman, brown hair, blue eyes, purple dress and yellow gloves, who was riding in one of your coach compartments? Minnie something…”
“Don’t believe I recognize that description,” the porter said after some thought.
“What do you mean you don’t recognize that description? You don’t remember serving her?”
“No, sir. I don’t. Sorry.” He tipped his hat to Jack and the officer and walked away, Jack gaping at him.
The officer’s eyes narrowed in increased skepticism. “What was that description, now?”
Jack repeated Minnie’s description while the officer made notes. It was only the fourth time and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
“This woman.” Jack stopped a shorter bottle-blonde with thin-slivered brows and strangely-drawn cupid-bow lips. “She was in the lounge car with us.” He looked at the woman. “Can you tell the officer anything you remember about my friend, Minnie?” Her brow furrowed. “Please. Anything you remember could help. She’s missing.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the bottle-blonde said. “I don’t remember you or your friend.”
“What do you mean you don’t remember me? You looked at me. We made eye contact. I remember because I was embarrassed that you caught me ogling you.” She smiled flirtatiously. “No, I—” he put a couple of fingers to his brows, “—I was wondering why women take their brows off, then draw a thin line back on. It looks
“Women can take awhile in there.” His tone was condescending and dismissive. “With all their do-dads and what-nots.” He flicked a hand strangely as if to indicate a woman’s entire hygiene routine with a gesture.
Jack pursed his lips. “I waited more than a half hour for her, then checked the restroom myself.” He didn’t care if the officer arrested him for indecency. “She is a beautiful young woman come to California without knowing a soul. She could be hurt or in great danger right now.”
“How do you know her, then?” the officer asked, though his tone was decidedly more interested. “You called her a friend, said you arrived on the train together, then just now said she doesn’t know a soul here. So which is it?”
Jack sighed and stepped back. “We met on the train and became friends. I don’t believe she knew a soul here.”
Now the officer appeared sympathetic. “I don’t mean to insult you, Mack, but maybe she used you. A drink here. A meal there. You look fine. All Brooks Brothers and shine. A handsome devil and young. Maybe she thought, Now there’s a man with some dollars to spare. I’ll cozy up. Give him a kiss. You know.”
Exasperated, Jack put his hands on his hips. “That’s not at all what happened.” Yet even as he said it, his mind was allowing it. Could he have been taken in by a confidence artist? “No. We—we liked each other. A lot. I know her and she knows me. She’s missing and needs me to find her.”
“All right. Follow me.” The officer led Jack to a central counter with the word POLICE above it. “We’ll just fill out a missing person’s report, then.”
Jack nodded.
The officer bent over some papers, holding a pen. “Her name?”
“Minnie.”
The officer flicked a glance at him. “Last name?”
Jack bent his head, thinking. Was it possible that he did not know her last name? Had he been so happy to hear her say Minnie that he had not pressed for more? His breath left him in an embarrassed huff. “I don’t know. I don’t know her last name.”
The officer rolled his eyes and scribbled something when Jack saw the porter who had made up Minnie’s coach compartment that first night.
“He knows her.” Jack pointed and signaled to the porter to come over. “What was the name of the beautiful young woman, brown hair, blue eyes, purple dress and yellow gloves, who was riding in one of your coach compartments? Minnie something…”
“Don’t believe I recognize that description,” the porter said after some thought.
“What do you mean you don’t recognize that description? You don’t remember serving her?”
“No, sir. I don’t. Sorry.” He tipped his hat to Jack and the officer and walked away, Jack gaping at him.
The officer’s eyes narrowed in increased skepticism. “What was that description, now?”
Jack repeated Minnie’s description while the officer made notes. It was only the fourth time and he knew it wouldn’t be the last.
“This woman.” Jack stopped a shorter bottle-blonde with thin-slivered brows and strangely-drawn cupid-bow lips. “She was in the lounge car with us.” He looked at the woman. “Can you tell the officer anything you remember about my friend, Minnie?” Her brow furrowed. “Please. Anything you remember could help. She’s missing.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” the bottle-blonde said. “I don’t remember you or your friend.”
“What do you mean you don’t remember me? You looked at me. We made eye contact. I remember because I was embarrassed that you caught me ogling you.” She smiled flirtatiously. “No, I—” he put a couple of fingers to his brows, “—I was wondering why women take their brows off, then draw a thin line back on. It looks
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