Page 33 of Hiding for the Holidays
I sigh and nod, even though he can’t see me. “Fine, I’ll wait for you before I do anything. Unless I think she’s in danger.”
“We’ll be there in ten,” he says before hanging up.
Eventually, the train yard comes into view. When Clara heads inside and I lose sight of her, I quickly park on the side of the road and jog after her, grabbing my phone and turning it to vibrate so the ringer doesn’t give me away if the guys call.
I peek around a train car and see her walking down a track, between two trains. She keeps glancing around nervously.
“Fuck, what have you got yourself mixed up in?” I whisper to myself in frustration. I thought she was smarter than this. But it makes sense; she probably had drug dealers in her building who gave her the product. She comes out here to make the sale, or maybe she’s just the delivery person.
Makes her some money and she can remain clean. Well, if that’s the case, I’m putting an end to it tonight.
She turns and heads to a small building at the end of the track that I hadn’t noticed before. It’s located right by the parking lot. She opens the door, and light spills onto the tracks as she enters, closing it behind her.
I grab my cell and text what’s going on to my group chat with the guys, then I sprint down towards the building she went in. Before I get there, she exits, making me dive under the closest train car to hide.
I lift my head and see her standing in the middle of the track, her eyes moving around. She looks scared. Fuck, she probably heard me. I’m the one causing her to worry. She quickly moves towards the closest train and pulls herself up, then opens the door and steps inside.
I make a move to follow her, but a man steps out of thebuilding she was just in, so I shrink back down to watch him. Is he going to follow her? What the hell was happening here?
He switches off the light and then closes and locks the door. To my relief, he doesn’t follow her; he heads to the parking lot, and I soon see his Civic pull out onto the road.
I grab my phone and tell them to park in the lot. Now that it’s empty, they can get closer without being seen.
I itch to go after Clara, to see what she’s doing in there, but the guys will be here in less than two minutes. The lights flick on inside the train, startling me. I frown at the lit train. From where I’m lying on the ground, I can’t see anything other than the light.
I slowly crawl out as the crunching of tires on gravel has me looking towards the parking lot. I see Leo’s truck pull in, so I stand and move to meet them.
They get out, their eyes glued to the lit train car. “Is that where she is?”
“Yeah, I haven’t looked yet; I was waiting for you.”
“What sort of criminal switches the light on?” Leo asks in confusion.
“She’s not a criminal,” I tell him angrily.
“I know, I know. But you know what I mean.”
I just hum in agreement as the three of us creep towards the train.
“Stop—” I hold out my palm to them when I hear something. We all listen closely, and then we silently move right up to the car as I tilt my head in confusion. “Is that?—”
I cut myself off, sure I’m mishearing, as I strain my ears to listen more carefully.
“Is she singing Silent Night?” Leo asks, looking as shocked as I feel.
Asher pushes past me to peek in the window. “What the hell?”
“That’s it, I’m going in,” I say, unable to take the suspense anymore.
I climb up the train car and, as quietly as I can, open the door and step inside.
Her voice rings out loudly from in here, even though I can’t see her. The train is covered in Christmas decorations, and I feel even more puzzled than I did a minute ago.
Leo taps my shoulder and points to a poster on the wall beside us.Blackpine Mountain Christmas Train.
I’d heard of this; it runs around part of the mountain as a tourist attraction. But what was Clara doing here? And at night?
Her voice gets louder as she stands up, belting, “Round yon virgin—Ah!” She screams, throwing some sort of spray bottle at us as she stumbles backwards over the edge of a chair and lands on her back in the aisle, her feet in the air, somehow stuck between the seat and the armrest.
