She had made the trip several times now and the generousgratuity she always left with the steward, Washington, guaranteed she would bewell looked afte.... He?d assured her that he would be serving her car all theway to Chicago and would make sureher luggage was shifted onto the train for Los Angeles. The adjoining toilet and its tinyshower stall were not much but at least they were private and always spotless.Camille changed into a fresh blouse and freshened up. A couple of strokes withthe brush. Even with Steve, in the police station where I should have felt safe, I felt like a voice not heard.“Ms. Quilty,” someone drawled above me.My eyes fluttered open and I fought the scowl that often twisted across my face whenever I was confronted with Landon Fontaine. What a name, I always thought, but it suited him. Ostentatious, wealthy-sounding, strong.He was a dirty lawyer who fought hard and almost always won. Being that he was from the swampy south somewhere, his accent was thick and slow. More

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