The Runaway Train
The Runaway Train
M.W. Griffith
MWGRIFFITHBOOKS
Copyright © 2017 by Michael Wayne Griffith
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
M.W. Griffith Books
www.mwgriffithbooks.com
Murfreesboro, Tennessee
SECOND EDITION
Edited by J.C. Hart
Cover Design By Cover Quill
Contents
Also by M.W. Griffith
Note From The Author
The Runaway Train
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part II
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Part III
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Thanks For Reading!
Also by M.W Griffith:
Newsletter
About the Author
Also by M.W. Griffith
The Truth About Alex
Monsoon Morning
Tanglewood
The Cold, Bending Light
Note From The Author
The book you’re holding right now didn’t start out as a novel. Actually, it was published as a short story back in 2014. The truth is that I planned on releasing a sequel picking up directly after the events of the original. Instead, I’ve decided to expand the short story into a single novel. The original piece is still mostly intact, but has been reworked and edited.
If this is the first time you are reading about Kathryn Lincoln or Selena Marrenger, then I hope you will enjoy the new tale. If you’ve read the original story already, there’s a lot more here to sink your teeth into. The journey has been long, but in the end, I feel it’s become a more satisfying read.
Best,
M.W. Griffith
For my wife, who never stopped believing.
The Runaway Train
Part I
“Don’t you buy
What they’re tryin’ to sell
There’s a fine line
Between Heaven and Hell.”
-Vanessa Finch
Chapter One
Autumn breathed fire over the trees. Their leaves were an explosion of vibrant orange and yellow. In the cool morning, a breeze cut through the limbs and swept over a young boy in northern Montana. The crispness of the air reminding him of the coming winter in Ashbridge City.
The weather forecasters claimed, according to the farmer's almanac, that it would be an exceptionally cold one. All of the adults were making a big fuss about it. Ethan couldn't quite understand how someone's bones would warn anyone about the weather. He imagined that it would take someone with a particularly special skeletal system to predict a season before it even arrived.
It didn't mean that there wasn't any such thing as super powers, however. Being a young man who had been on the earth for thirteen long years meant he’d picked up a thing or two about how things work. The stars, for instance, winked at him from the heavens by pure magic. It was a magic that only someone with extraordinary abilities could perceive. Another example would be how Clayton Wareing, the Montana Grizzlies prize pitcher, always seemed to throw a breaking ball that moved just inches beyond a bat's reach. The poster of Clayton on his bedroom wall served as a reminder of how Ethan would one day be able to throw just like him.
"Don't wander too far.” His mother broke his concentration. She sat on the wooden bench typing nimbly on a smartphone. Her blonde hair was pulled in a tight ponytail that dangled just above her burgundy turtleneck. "I'm not going to be late chasing you all over the station again."
“Mom." Ethan rolled his eyes. "That was, like, three years ago."
Crisp leaves skittered along the sidewalk. The air nipped at his cheeks. When her liquid green eyes turned from the little screen to give him a pointed look, he could have sworn that the temperature dropped another ten degrees.
"Okay, okay.” He took a step back. "You won't be late because of me, I promise."
Seemingly satisfied, she returned her attention to the little screen.
Ethan buttoned his jean jacket before tossing the baseball into his leathery glove. The most surprising super power, he thought while balancing himself on the edge of the sidewalk, was his mother's ability to not pay him any attention at all.
It wasn't long before the smartphone vibrated in her hands, and she was talking embarrassingly loud into the receiver. Ethan moved into a more open area; a patch of cobblestone that led to a marble fountain. There weren't a lot of people at the station today; only a couple who lingered near the fountain.
Across the way, towards the parking lot, he could just make out the frosty haze that had followed them. He stood there for a moment, watching people spring into existence from the fog, before throwing the ball as high as he could. It spiraled into the air and was almost invisible against the bleak backdrop of clouds.
"Pop fly!" he yelled, racing to position himself underneath it. The ball slammed into his worn glove, stinging his hand. "Another expert catch by Ethan Winfield," he proclaimed to the cascading waters. "I'll tell ya', that kid is going places."
Sandra Winfield watched the bus burst through the curling fog. She had heard its distant approach long before making a grand appearance through the winding gash in the woods surrounding Harris Station. It rumbled along toward her, an old beast that creaked and squealed in dismay as it slowed to a stop.
"What?" She raised her voice to a yell and pressed a hand over the ear that didn't have a phone against it. "No, the bus just got here. Yeah, I'll call you back. Oh, don't worry. You'll hear all about it."
She tapped the end button before stuffing the phone into the cavernous confines of her purse. Finally, she stood and turned around in a full circle.
"Ethan? Come on, honey. You promised you wouldn't do this to me."
The doors to the bus slid open. Around twenty people spilled out and made their way across the courtyard. Some wrinkled their brows at her when they strode past, as though sensing that something was wrong.
"Ethan!?"
She quickened her pace along the sidewalk in the direction of the fountain. Several people had stopped there, and some were even settling into a scatter of wooden
benches.
"Shit!" She cupped her hands over her mouth. "Ethan!"
A heavy set woman with a bright blue scarf half walked, half ran to her side. "Is everything okay, miss?"
"My son..." she said, but the words caught in her throat. On the other side of the fountain, she could just make out a brown baseball glove. Her heart beat so hard that she felt as though it would explode through her ribcage.
She didn't remember running to the fountain. She didn't even feel the cold spray from the water. When she snatched up the glove, noticing the baseball cradled inside, her legs turned to putty and the world around her spun into darkness.
Chapter Two
Selena Marrenger quickened her pace on the treadmill. The view outside the double windows of the apartment overlooked a sprawl of buildings in the downtown area of Ashbridge. Rain spattered the glass, and she could see the hazy glow of headlights making their way along the streets below.
A steady beat of Trance music pounded through the headphones of her iPod. Sweat beaded her brow. The morning jog was a ritual she couldn't imagine doing without. The routine began immediately after sliding out of bed, before her first cup of coffee.
Her life was made up of routines. They were, in her opinion, healthy ones at least. The apartment was immaculate, a characteristic trait she had adopted from her mother. Of course, that was partly due to her line of work as a detective in the homicide division. Injecting a little order in an otherwise chaotic world helped her to function in it on a daily basis. If something was out of place, it could threaten the way her entire day went.
That's why she ignored the towers of boxes stacked against the walls. It had taken nearly a month for her to pack and label each one. When the movers came, they would be provided with specific instructions about the positioning of her belongings inside the truck. It was the best way possible to avoid a box filled with books from crashing down upon her mother's china.
The rain fell harder outside. It pelted the windows and blurred the view. The city lights bloomed through the haze; a dazzling display of vibrant color. After glancing down at the timer, she slowed the treadmill and immediately felt her muscles ease at the new pace.
A shadow detached itself from the wall out of the corner of her eye. Her heart skipped a beat. She jerked her head around in time to see a broad woman standing in the light of her kitchen.
"Jesus," she yelled, pulling the earbuds down around her neck. "If you're going to show up unannounced, the least you can do is brew a pot of coffee for me."
"Don't get pushy with me," the woman said in a high-pitched tone. "I knocked. You didn't answer."
Selena stepped off the treadmill and wiped the sweat from her brow. "You know Kat, I gave you a key to my place in case I misplaced mine, not so you can just parade around in my apartment whenever you want."
"My partner doesn't answer her phone," Kat said while stuffing a bagel into her mouth, "or her door, then I start to worry."
Kathryn Lincoln wore a gray trench coat over her mildly overweight frame. When she moved, Selena caught a glimpse of a green sweater. Auburn hair draped her shoulders, and the corners of her eyes were marked with crows feet.
“Aw." Selena placed a hand over her chest. "It warms my heart to have someone look after me. Are you going to pack me a lunch for school?"
"I'll pack my foot up your ass," Kathryn said more curtly. She moved to the coffee pot and began scooping spoonfuls from a container into the filter.
Selena set the iPod onto the kitchen counter. "Too kinky for me." The air became fragrant from the coffee beans. "But you brew a girl a cup of coffee, woo her with enticing conversation, who knows what can happen?"
"I hate to burst your little day dream, but I'm not here to sweet talk you." Kathryn poured a cup for herself and another for Selena.
"You mean that I don't get to hear another speech about how I should stay? That the department is family, and I'd be breaking up a happy home?" Selena spooned a bit of sugar into her mug before taking a sip.
Kathryn pursed her lips as though assessing her partner's mood. "None of that, at least right now." She sighed, drooping her shoulders. "It's about a case."
Selena put the mug down on the counter and raised both of her hands into the air. "Oh, no. I already told the captain that these last two weeks are my time. Literally, my vacation time. I'm supposed to be unwinding before I have to move out of here!"
"I know.” Kathryn took a short sip from her mug. "He wanted me to tell you that it isn't an option. The mother of a missing boy requested you, specifically."
"Right," Selena sighed. "This wouldn't have happened if Channel Two News hadn't plastered my face on everyone's television screen."
"What can I say? You're a local hero. You've closed more cases than anyone else in the department." Kathryn let a smile slip over her face. "Of course, you didn't do it all by yourself."
"That's right.” Selena returned the grin. "If it weren't for all those hard workers at Starbucks, I wouldn't have had the energy to chase down any of the bad guys." She watched her partner's smile dissipate before continuing. "Besides, we're homicide, unless the Captain has forgotten. Someone lost track of their kid at the grocery store, it needs to be moved to missing persons."
Kathryn shook her head. "Nope. Big boss man wants to dump it in our lap, then that's just the way it is. He wanted to know if this was going to be a problem. Said that he would turn that glowing recommendation he faxed to D.C. into your worst nightmare."
"You know," Selena said, turning to face the falling rain. “It figures he would try to pull something like this. Think that he's bitter about me joining the bureau?"
Kathryn thought for a moment before responding. "You remember the fable about the lion and the mouse? It's pretty much about mutual dependence, no matter how great the person is."
"Yeah," Selena said without breaking her gaze from the window. "My dad used to read me Aesop's fables before bed. I always imagined that thorn being so painful."
“Well." Kathryn took another sip of her coffee. "Think of how the lion would have felt if the mouse hadn't kept up his end of the bargain?" She narrowed her eyes. "You're the department's star detective. He depends on you, and he will, all the way up until the day that he can't."
Chapter Three
A steady drumming of rain accompanied them on the road, the windshield wipers squeaking at full speed. Daylight splintered between stacks of heavy clouds. Selena cast a sideways glance at her partner and said, "What is it?"
"Hmm?"
"You got a look on your face. Like you just thought of something."
Kathryn shrugged. "It could be nothing. It could be something, I don't know."
"Out with it, already." Selena's tone was sharp.
"The bus station where the boy went missing? The kids at the elementary school call the buses there 'the runaway trains.'" Kathryn squinted out the passenger window. “Where local kids slip away from their parents with a suitcase packed with comic books and defiant determination."
Selena glanced in the rearview mirror, noticing that she had applied a little too much mascara around her emerald eyes. "Hardly makes sense," she said, dabbing at the makeup with a finger. "It's a bus, not a train."
"It's an urban myth," Kathryn told her. "When do those ever make any sense? Besides, there's only a couple of actual cases of a minor running away from home that involve Harris Station."
Selena stared fixedly at the crowning streetlights passing by. Her dark hair fell down over the sides of her face, a shadowy curtain that blocked the stage of her stark expression. "It's a good thing that we don't deal in myths," she said. "The Amber Alert issued this morning is very real. The first twenty-four hours of a disappearance are vital. After that, we’re going to have a much harder time piecing together what happened."
"I got someone at the station checking on the security cameras in the area." Kathryn frowned when they turned onto a two lane road that eventually gave way to barbed wire fences and tobacco
fields.
"Good. When I got out of the shower, I called to send a uniform down there to try and get some statements. If there were any witnesses at Harris Station, they're most likely long gone by now. You never know, though. Someone might just come forward." She wheeled the police cruiser onto a gravel driveway on the outskirts of town. A trailer with pink flamingos keeping watch in the yard greeted them. "But that's not where little Ethan's story began. Maybe his mom can help us out with that."
Chapter Four
The place smelled like coffee and cigarettes. It was modestly decorated, and a few knickknacks accompanied photographs of Ethan along the side table in the living room. The young boy smiled through the years at Selena, and she smiled back.
Sunlight knifed through the partly closed curtains and shot a narrow beam across the carpet. "Has Ethan ever run away before?" She took out a pen and notepad from the inside of her jacket