Clockwork Cowboy

Chapter 38

"Hello?"

The train driver spun around, shocked to see anyone up there with him. He seemed so jolly and nice, a little bit like Santa Claus in sooty work clothes. The fact that such a jovial and agreeable man could be so far off the tracks - financially - proved how terrible the financial climate had become. "Hello, Miss. Can I help you?"

"I've a small token, from a mutual acquaintance." The words, that tumbled from her lips, sounded suddenly ominous. "I'm told that you will understand the meaning."

"And what is it?" He looked at the parcel in interest.

She handed it silently to him. The emotions she felt - at this bizarre exchange - were far from what she'd expected. Anxiety, doubt, nervousness, and a strange mixture of anger.

How come she hadn't been enjoying the journey, like all of those ladies she'd passed in first class. Sipping on Champagne Flips and giggling behind their fans like drunk schoolgirls with not a care in the world.

The train driver took the parcel and ripped it open. Was he excited to see more diamonds to add to his collection?

The silk scarf slid onto the floor. He stooped to pick it up, leaving two dirty fingerprints on the beautiful fabric. He gazed at the scarf in confusion. Turning it over his eyes appeared to notice the pretty embroidered initials in the corner of the handkerchief, for the first time. He glanced up at Nova, unnerved.

Nova gave a cynical smile. He knew he'd been caught.

The driver peered back into the box, finding a starched white letter that he read under his breath. She could only just hear him over the racket of the engine. "This doesn't need to get bloody. Just put the jewels in the box." He glanced up at her face. "Who wrote this?"

Brandon hadn't told her if she was allowed to mention his involvement. Nova stood there indecisively. Of course, she didn't have to say his name... but maybe she could mention his occupation? He hadn't told her not to...

When no answer was forthcoming, he spoke again. "He's behind you, isn't he?"

Nova had no intention of dying there, a bullet embedded between her eyes. "Yes," she lied.

With trembling hands, the driver unlocked the safe and dumped the jewels into the empty parcel. Fixing the lid, he passed it back. "Give your boss a message from me," he said between pinched lips. "We'll find him. He won't be able to get away with this."

"Good always wins out in the end," she replied, pertly.

"Exactly." The man nodded. "And you shall be hung and quartered for this crime."

Hung? All of a sudden her mind was thrust into confusion. When did bounty hunting become a crime?

She could see the station approaching, clenching the parcel to her chest she set off for the back carriage. Waiting for the doors to open, so she could flee the station as fast as her shoes would allow her.