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“Oof, take it down a couple notches, would you,” he muttered, shaking his head as if my volume had physically injured him.

“What happened? Did you see the killer?” I demanded, searching his glowing amber eyes for answers.

“The killer? Of course not. I’d tell you if I found the killer.” He actually had the audacity to laugh at me.

“Then why did you scream? I thought you were hurt.”

Now that I knew my cat was okay, I wanted to wring his furry little neck for striking such fear straight into my poor pet-owning heart.

“I am hurt,” he said with a low growl, then shifted in my arms and shoved a paw into my face. “I got a little rock or something stuck between my toe beans. See.”

“That reaction was about your toe beans?” I practically screamed but then, remembering the need not to disturb the other passengers on the train, dropped my voice to a whisper yell.

“Don’t act like you don’t love them.” He laughed again, and it took all I had to keep listening as he spoke. “Now can you please be a good human and dislodge this thing for me?”

Quickly, I plucked the pebble from his paw and tossed it away, then set him back on the ground.

“Thank you,” he said, walking back toward our exit door with an exaggerated limp that I had no doubt he was faking for my benefit.

“What happened?” Dad asked, concern still etched in his features despite my utterance of the ridiculous phrase toe beans.

“Cat drama,” I explained in a growl, still beyond angry at Octo-Cat for worrying me needlessly. “C’mon, let’s go back to Mom and Dan.”

We marched single file back toward the open door with me leading and Dad following. Once aboard, we stopped to inspect the door handle but found no blood marring its smooth surface. We did, however, find another spot on the carpet, only a few feet from the door, but—given the fact that each car was close to a hundred feet long—quite far from Rhonda’s room.

Any dripping blood fell infrequently. No gushing here.

It was fully likely we’d find more if we continued investigating outside the train, but the whole toe bean incident had spooked me thoroughly. It also made both Dad and I realize how vulnerable we were out there with no real way to protect ourselves.

“What did you find?” Mom asked, greeting us at the door to Rhonda’s room and throwing her arms around Dad as if they’d been separated for days and not mere minutes. “I heard something, but Dan wouldn’t let me go investigate.”

“Good man,” my dad said, giving the young redhead a fist bump.

“Nothing happened,” I explained, then took on a cutesy voice I knew would drive my cat crazy. “The wittle kitty just got an ouchie in his wittle paw.”

“Angela!” he cried, mouth gaping open in horror. “Not in front of another cat!”

Grizabella laughed, which made me laugh, too.

Dan just looked at me like I was certifiable. Maybe I was.

I returned his lantern to him, then caught everyone up on the droplets of blood Dad and I had discovered.“Did you find anything more in here?” I asked once I’d finished.

“Nope. You weren’t actually gone all that long, you know,” Dan answered, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms.

Mom shrugged and offered me a weary smile.“Unfortunately, no.”

We weren’t going to solve anything by staying huddled together in this room. Someone had to search the train, and that someone was me.

“You guys keep searching here, and don’t let anyone else inside,” I said. “I’m going to see if I can find anything a bit further afield.”

“Meaning you’re going off by yourself,” Dad summarized with a stern set to his jaw

“I’ll take the cats,” I said, drawing another strange look from Dan; he had the good grace not to say anything, though.

I didn’t stick around to argue the point with my dad anymore. There were dozens, maybe hundreds of people aboard this train. And only one of them was a killer. That is, if the killer hadn’t disembarked and run away like we now suspected.

I turned on my phone to guide our way. Twelve percent battery left. Dan said the lights would be back on soon, and I was banking on that in a huge way now.

“Why are we doing a sweep of the passenger cars again?” Octo-Cat asked, obvious irritation laced in his nasally voice. Apparently, my little trick earlier had cost me his pleasant cooperation. This didn’t bother me much, given that I was already well accustomed to working with a crabby tabby.Things actually felt more natural now.

“She doesn’t trust us,” Grizabella answered for me.

We moved into the next car, heading in the direction of the viewing car, dining car, and eventually our assigned seats. I paused after assuring no one had eyes on us.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you guys. I mean, of course I trust you guys. But sometimes things are worth a second look, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Octo-Cat responded with a furious flick of his tail. “You’re right. She doesn’t trust us.”

“Told you,” Grizabella said, also flicking her fluffy tail. So glad they were bonding over this.