More Than One Way To Solve A Murder

A horrible smell filled my nose, and I jerked awake.

I blinked my blurry eyes. What the hell is that smell?

"Oh, that is awful. What is that?" A voice nearby echoed my thoughts, and the fog lifted from my brain.

Where the hell am I? I was on a cushioned seat in a row of similar seats. On my right was an empty seat and a window. On my left, across a wide aisle, were two identical seats. There was no seat belt, and I could see trees pass by the window. So not on an airplane. A train? When was the last time I took a train?

My eyes widened as my mind drew a blank. Not just about my last train ride, but about everything. I couldn't recall my own name or a single memory about my life. I looked at my hands, as my focus turned inward. Practical information, such as how to read and do math was still there. Yet all memory of my own personal life was simply gone. Voices drew my gaze from my hands, and a man appeared in the aisle next to me, making me jump.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said in a slightly accented voice. It sounded french. Creole french. I know accents but not my own name? Great job, brain.

I met his dark eyes. He was tall, with an athletic build, but had that ageless quality to him. He could be twenty or forty; I couldn't tell. His eyes crinkled as he smiled apologetically, and his smile struck me as familiar. Do I know him?

"I would introduce myself, yet I seem to have amnesia," he said. My eyes widened.

"I'm the same!"

"You are the third person to tell me this," he said.

I stood, almost without thinking. Feeling a need to move. He stepped back without me asking, and I stepped into the aisle. I saw a few people kneeling on seats or standing in the train car.

"Has anyone left this car and looked around?" I asked.

"I don't know; I only woke up a few minutes ago when I smelled something foul," he said.

I frowned. "I think we need to speak with the conductor. But first, we should try to find out who we are," I searched my pockets and found a phone. I hit the power button, swiped the screen, and my triumphant smile crumbled. Password lock. Damn. The seat was empty, as was the space on the floor, but there was a carry-on suitcase in the overhead luggage rack.

I pulled it down and opened it while the man watched me curiously. It was full of clothing, a makeup bag, toiletries, and nothing remotely helpful in identifying who I was. I zipped it up and was about to put it away when the man stopped me.

"Wait, look," he pointed at the back, and I flipped it over. It had one of those card slots for the owner's name.

"Sandy Borgan," I read. Is that me? Am I a "Sandy?" I didn't feel like one.

"Well, Sandy, it's a pleasure to meet you," the man said, and I smiled. He was rather charming.

"I think perhaps I should find my own name so I can introduce myself properly," he grinned and then turned away. I followed as he approached the end of the aisle.

"It's some kind of social experiment," a skinny man with glasses said, while an older woman shook her head as we approached them.

"I'm not saying you're wrong, but there are other potential reasons for our amnesia," she said. I stopped next to them as the man continued walking.

"What reasons?" I asked, curious.

She bent down and picked up a magazine from the seat behind her and handed it to me.

I glanced at the cover; it was a scientific journal. The Annual Review of Neuroscience. I flipped it open, and the table of contents listed several studies regarding amnesia. Well, isn't that just crazy suspicious!

"This can't be a coincidence," I said, and glasses got excited.

"Exactly!" He said. The woman frowned and took the journal back.

"It wouldn't hurt to understand the situation better from a neurological standpoint," she said, and I nodded my agreement.

"Maybe you should read this and see if it holds any clues as to how we might get our memories back," I suggested.

"The Journal was addressed to Lisa Montgomery," she paused. "It was near me when I woke up, so maybe I'm Lisa."

"I found a bag with the name Sandy, so I'm going with that for now," I said.

The skinny man looked at us. Then fished around in his jeans pocket, producing a wallet. He pulled out a driver's license.

"Trevor Olds," he read.

"Well, at least one of us knows their name," I said, envious. I still didn't feel like a "Sandy."

"Make that two of us," said the man from earlier, approaching with a passport.

"Theo Laurent," he said. "A pleasure to meet all of you." He looked at me. "Although I believe we have already met.

I opened my mouth to respond but stopped when he held up a picture. It was one of those cheesy photo booth strips with four small photos. In all four images, he was laughing with a dark-haired woman. Is that me? Lisa and Trevor looked at the pictures and then at me. I guess that's what I look like. What a disturbing feeling, not recognizing your own face.

The car door behind Theo opened, and a large man walked inside and paused.

"There's more in here," he called over his shoulder before walking up to us.

"Names Bill, according to the credit card in my pocket, although I have no recollection of that being my name or anything else," he said in an unmistakable Texan drawl.

"We've been drugged and kidnapped!" said a feminine voice. Bill turned sideways, revealing a wide-eyed blond. On the verge of tears, she hovered a few feet behind Bill, and he gently guided her back into the other car.

I followed. Theo behind me as the pretty blond repeated her words. Tone insistent.

"Drugged makes sense, but why do you think you were kidnapped?" Asked a young man with dark hair who looked as if he wasn't even old enough to vote. Yet, his tone and demeanor were calm, like that of an older, more mature individual.

"Because the train is not stopping!" shrieked the blond.

A girl sat in the chair next to where the young man stood and watched the scene with a seemingly bored expression. Although her sharp gaze said, she was paying attention. Her hair was half purple and half bright pink, and when she met my gaze, I instantly liked her.

"I think we should search the train," Theo said, and I nodded my agreement.

"I was going to head to the front of the train to see if I could find the conductor or engineer," said Bill.

"I'll go with you," I said. Theo looked at me, and for some reason, I didn't want him coming with me. The feeling was sudden and unexpected. Hadn't I just thought him charming?

"Maybe it would make sense to split up. Some of us head to the front and some to the back of the train," I said quickly.

"I'll head towards the back," said the young man, and the girl beside him stood.

"I'll go with you," she said. Theo looked torn.

I motioned him towards me and stepped back.

"I think you should go with them," I whispered, so they couldn't hear me. "They're just kids." His forehead furrowed, but he gave a slight nod of agreement.

I looked up, and the panicking blond was latched onto Bill. He gave me a tolerant look, and I smirked.

We headed towards the front of the train with Bill in the lead and me bringing up the rear. I crossed the almost nonexistent space between cars and, for the first time, noticed how shiny and new everything looked. The train had a sleek modern appearance. The sleeper car we stepped into was luxurious, with thick carpet, gleaming wood panels, and frosted glass wall sconces with soft electric lights. I looked closely at the pair in front of me. Bill was dressed simply enough, but his outfit was still quality and the woman, from her perfectly manicured nails and styled hair down to her flowing dress and heels, screamed upper-class. The only thing missing was jewelry.

Bill peeked into the sleeper cabins as we passed. "Anyone in here?" he hollered loud enough that anyone in this car and the next would have heard him. No one responded.

I stepped into a sleeper cabin, which was even more luxurious inside than the hall. There was an actual bed and couch, not the typical bunks. I couldn't recall precisely what most trains looked like, but I knew this was extravagant. I peeked around for luggage or something that indicated someone had booked the room, but it looked untouched.

A scream tore through the car, and my heart lurched. I was out in the hall and headed towards the sound before a single thought was dredged up from my startled mind. Sobbing drew me like a lodestone to the blond from earlier, who was crying into Bill's shirt in the doorway of a cabin. He looked at me over her head and stepped out into the hall. I let him pass me, and my eyes moved into the room. On the floor were two bodies. Two dead bodies.

Official Report

News of the dead bodies spread to the people on the train within minutes. Theo, myself, Lisa, and an older gentleman with a distinguished look who went by the name of Hugh, examined the bodies. Blood was everywhere, and no one touched anything.

"Both men have been stabbed," said Lisa.

"Clearly, it looks like a murder, yet only an autopsy could say for certain," said Hugh quietly.

"No sign of a weapon," noted Theo.

"I think we need to find whoever is driving this train," I said.

Everyone nodded their agreement.

"I'm going to head back to the other passengers and see if they can remember anything," said Lisa. "From what I have read, this degree of memory loss is rare and should not be permanent. I would like to try some things to see if I can get anyone to remember who they are."

Very little was said as Lisa returned to the passengers, and Hugh, Theo, and I moved towards the front of the train. My mind was racing, trying to put together odd little details I had noticed about the dead men. The blood had been everywhere, even on their hands. They were facing each other on the ground as if they had fallen looking at one another. It was odd.

We stepped into another sleeper car. Empty, although Theo and Hugh checked, I did not. I was focused on the front of the train. The next car had several steps I had to ascend, and when I did, I stood in a multilevel dining car with an actual chandelier. More evidence of wealth.

Theo broke off from our group to descend into the level below as Hugh, and I moved forward, passing into a car that resembled a lounge. The door at the end was different. I opened it and found myself standing in a very empty, darkened car with dimly lit controls. Hugh stepped in around me.

"This car is not being used," he said, and before I could make a snarky comment about stating the obvious. He spoke again. "This must be the second engineering car; some trains have both a push and pull system and can be operated from an engineering car at either end of the train." I blinked at him.

He caught my eye and then looked away. "I'm not sure how I know that," he said, and suspicion made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Theo spoke behind me, nearly making me jump out of my skin. How was he so quiet?

"We should head to the other end of the train then," He said and turned to head back. We followed.

We reached the first passenger car, and I stopped in the aisle. There were twenty or thirty people inside, talking and asking questions. Some were tossing about theories and even accusations. The general theme was that there was a murderer on board, and people were scared. No one had any memories, or at least they were claiming they didn't.

Lisa shot me a helpless look before moving away from a group of people. As she approached, Theo suddenly turned and headed down a row of seats, focused on something.

"Did you find anything?" She asked us.

"Unfortunately, no. We reached the power car, but it was empty," I said. Hugh repeated what he knew about trains, then paused and added, "the train may be automated."

He looked at Lisa as she opened her mouth, speaking before she could. "I don't actually remember, but I still know if that makes any sense."

"From what I've read, this kind of memory loss is not as complete as it may seem. It also shouldn't last," she said. Oddly enough, at her words, my suspicion of Hugh dwindled.

Theo returned with something in his hands and snagged Hugh's attention, while Lisa returned to comforting passengers. I found myself momentarily standing alone and decided I wouldn't wait. I needed answers. I navigated past people. The seating was spacious and the aisle wide, so it wasn't difficult.

"Hey, wait," I stopped. The pink and purple girl pushed her way over to me. "You're headed back there?" She asked. I nodded. "Mind if I tag along? Jack found these passengers in the back, but we didn't reach the last car, and I'm curious what's back there."

"Okay," I said. "Sandy, apparently."

"Jill," she said and wrinkled her nose. "It doesn't feel like my name, but it was on my driver's license."

"Better than Sandy," I said, and she chuckled.

"Not so sure about that, I mean, my name is Jill, and I wake up next to some guy named Jack? What are the odds?"

"Maybe it's how you ended up together," I said as I walked into the next car. She made an "eww" face. I chuckled. "I didn't mean romantically." The idea that he was her boyfriend didn't fit. It seemed wrong, somehow. If anything, they looked like siblings.

We passed an empty sleeper car just as luxurious as the two at the front of the train and then stepped into an observation car with a bar. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows showed a breathtaking sunset over distant mountains as the train passed a sparkling blue lake. Where..? I shook my head, trying to shake the question right out of my head. This is not the time.

Jill looked up from inspecting the bar as I opened the door to the next car. She caught up to me as I crossed an empty fitness center, then we slipped into a cramped sleeper car. There were easily twice as many cabins in this sleeper car, and if I had to guess, it was for train staff. We peeked around as we walked but spotted nothing unusual and no more passengers. Finally, we entered a luggage car. It was filled with rows of covered boxes and strapped-down luggage. At the end was a black door identical to the one at the front of the train. We exchanged looks before I reached forward and opened the door, half expecting it to be locked.

We stepped into an empty car with two seats and a control panel that was brightly lit. Along the walls were windows and screens.

"Look at this!" Jill said, and I turned towards her. She was looking at a screen, and I could see the image changing every few seconds, showing different views of the train and various rooms. The images were clear and in color. It was one hell of an expensive security system.

"Does it record?" I asked, and Jill pushed a button. A keyboard slid from beneath the monitor, and she began hitting keys. "How do you know how to do that?" I asked, and she shrugged.

"I think maybe I work with computers," She glanced at me. "I can't remember exactly; it's just a feeling."

The room with the bodies filled the screen, and then I watched as I appeared and then left. Minutes ticked by, and then the bodies began to move. It was confusing as they lurched to their feet in a blur, and then they left the room. The screen froze, and I held my breath as the video played. A few seconds later, I sat in the chair, processing everything.

The door opened, startling us both, and Hugh stepped into the room.

"Those idiots killed each other," Jill said with a small laugh.

I shook my head. I needed to inform the other passengers before they freaked out, although it didn't explain the amnesia. As soon as we returned to the group in the first passenger car, Theo produced a newspaper he had found and explained it was likely the reason for our amnesia.

"Second luxury train hit by 'The Anesthesiologists." The headline declared. Theo summed up the article. Apparently, there was an international manhunt for a pair of criminals that were hitting trains, hotels, banks, and cruise lines all over the world. Millions of dollars were stolen in roughly five years. Authorities believed it was two men but couldn't be sure. They used a particular kind of gas to knock out all witnesses, which gave the victims temporary amnesia that affected short and long-term memory.

Jill and I exchanged a look, then explained what we had seen on the security footage.

"It was them," Theo said emphatically. "They must have argued over something. Maybe one was greedy and tired of sharing the wealth."

"You think those two men were the men from the Newspaper?" Lisa asked.

Theo nodded. "I remember now why I was on this train. I was following them, the Haris brothers. I suspected they were the Anesthesiologists." My eyes were drawn to Bill, who stood behind Theo. He met my eyes briefly, and I could tell his memory had returned as well.

Everyone was silent, processing this information until Hugh spoke.

"The train is automated and set to stop at the next station in approximately 30 minutes. We can notify the authorities and let them take it from there."

Everyone nodded their agreement, while Jill suggested we enjoy some complimentary drinks while we waited. I knew I could use one.

The Unofficial Record

"Look at this!" Jill said, and I turned towards her. She was looking at a screen, and I could see the image changing every few seconds, showing different views of the train and various rooms. The images were clear and in color. It was one hell of an expensive security system.

"Does it record?" I asked, and Jill pushed a button. A keyboard slid from beneath the monitor, and she began hitting keys. "How do you know how to do that?" I asked, and she shrugged.

"I think maybe I work with computers," She glanced at me. "I can't remember exactly; it's just a feeling."

Jill said something else, but I didn't hear her. I had moved to sit in the chair while she worked, and a stack of folders had my full attention. They rested on the chair, and the top one had my name on it. I picked up the folder, flipped it open, and scanned the pages. Then I picked up the next and the next.

"I got it!" Jill said, and I looked up, setting the file in my hands down on the stack, which now rested on the floor.

The room with the bodies filled the screen, and then I watched as I appeared and then left. Minutes ticked by, and then the bodies began to move. It was confusing as they lurched to their feet in a blur, and then they left the room. The screen froze, and I held my breath as the video played. A few seconds later, I sat in the chair, processing everything. The odd feeling that I was about to remember something hovered in my brain.

"Why, why would we do this…?" Jill asked softly. The screen in front of her wasn't moving, but in the image was the room with the bodies. And inside the room stood several passengers, including me. The skinny man, Trevor, was holding a bloody knife.

"Because they destroyed our lives," came a man's voice. The door opened, startling us both, and Hugh stepped into the room.

He walked in and shut the door behind him.

"I read the files," I said. "I didn't see one for you or Theo."

He nodded. "Theo Laurent is an FBI agent who has been investigating Mark and Anthony Haris. Those are his files. He recognized you as a victim of the Haris brothers, Sandy, and got close to you. Trying to learn more about them. As for me, the Haris brothers were responsible for the death of my family. My wife and both my daughters. Through their scams, their sham organizations, and direct dealings, they have harmed every person on board this train, with the exception of Mr. Laurent. Anthony's rape of young miss Sophia Fanning, which led to her suicide a few months ago, inspired her parents, Bill and Andrea Fanning, to arrange this trip. Hugh held up a newspaper and tapped the headline. "Second luxury train hit by 'The Anesthesiologists," The headline declared.

"They knew the Haris brothers would be on this train because they own the line. Anthony Haris was not aware that Sophia's parents knew of his actions. It was the perfect setup. Everyone on board was contacted by the Fannings and agreed. Through Dr. Lisa Montgomery's connections and her knowledge as a neurologist, we were able to obtain and safely use the same anesthesia the so-called "Anesthesiologists" are using.

He held up a small piece of plastic. Jill took it from him and inserted it into a slot on the bottom of the wall monitor. The screen changed, and a video of two men entering the room and attacking each other played.

"How?" I asked.

Hugh nodded at Jill. "She's brilliant. The security system is good but not perfect. We staged this scene, and Jill edited it just slightly to make it look as if the Haris brothers killed each other. More evidence connects them to the previous robberies committed by "The Anesthesiologists" in their luggage. Additionally, in one of the boxes in the luggage car are all of our missing belongings. Everything will be intentionally left inside for the authorities to discover and return to us. Lisa, who is my sister-in-law, instructed me on how to administer the gas. I was chosen to remain conscious while everyone on board was exposed to the anesthesia, as I am a train engineer. The knife, which only contains the fingerprints of Mark and Anthony Haris, was placed under Anthony's body, consistent with what can be seen in this video."

As Hugh spoke, my memory returned, and I could see in Jill's eyes that hers had as well. She quickly accessed the train security and began removing the unwanted footage.

As the video played again, I smiled. "The idiots killed each other," I said.

"Yep. Those idiots killed each other," she said with a small laugh.

It was so easy, too easy. I shook my head. I needed to inform the other passengers before they freaked out, although it didn't explain the amnesia. Although the newspaper would.

"Maybe we should make sure Theo has a copy of this newspaper," I suggested. Hugh raised an eyebrow, and I knew what he was going to say.

"I was sure to leave plenty of copies for Mr. Laurent to find. We'll let him piece it together."

"I'm all done," said Jill.

As soon as we returned to the group in the first passenger car, Theo produced a newspaper he had found and explained it was likely the reason for our amnesia, just as predicted. Theo summed up the newspaper article as the passengers silently listened.

Jill and I exchanged a look, then explained what we had seen on the security footage.

"It was them," Theo said emphatically. "They must have argued over something. Maybe one was greedy and tired of sharing the wealth."

"You think those two men were the men from the Newspaper?" Lisa asked.

Theo nodded. "I remember now why I was on this train. I was following them, the Haris brothers. I suspected they were the Anesthesiologists." My eyes were drawn to Bill, who stood behind Theo. He met my eyes briefly, and I could tell his memory had returned as well.

Everyone was silent, processing this information until Hugh spoke.

"The train is automated and set to stop at the next station in approximately 30 minutes. We can notify the authorities and let them take it from there."

Everyone nodded their agreement, while Jill suggested we enjoy some complimentary drinks while we waited. I knew I could use one.

Off The Record

The train stopped at the small town of Whitefish, Montana. Having joined the more commercial Amtrak line for this scenic stop. When we disembarked, we were met not by passengers waiting to board but by police officers.

The majority of those on board had yet to regain their memories, which added credibility to everyone's story. After several hours spent answering questions, in an almost pleasant room, with a friendly officer, Theo came to get me.

"I believe I owe you an apology," he said as we walked towards the exit of the small police station.

"You mean because you only got close to me so you could hunt the Haris brothers," I stated flatly. He flinched.

"Sandy, I can explain," he said. I shook my head.

"Don't bother Theo. You know my husband died 6 years ago, and I was lonely, and you used that. I know you were just doing your job; I get it. But I also can't trust you. I'm sorry. I…no hard feelings, it's just not going to work," I said. He deflated. I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"I've got to go. Take care of yourself, okay?" I said, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

I headed out of the station and smiled as I heard a car horn honk. I walked to the bright red truck and up to the driver's side door.

"No way you're driving; move over," I said.

"Aww, Mom, come on."

I crossed my arms, and my daughter huffed and slid over. Her brother chuckled from the back seat. I gave her a big grin when I got in, and she smiled back. Not remotely upset. It had been so hard financially when my husband died. Cancer was terrible and also expensive. He passed away, leaving me with a broken heart, a mountain of debt, and two devastated preteen kids. Everyone said I couldn't be a single parent. That it was too expensive. When you lose everything to debt collectors and the government for unpaid taxes, you find out who your real friends are. The only ones who had been willing to help had conditions such as marriage, giving up my kids, and other equally unacceptable offers. So I went it alone. My kids were everything.

I pulled away from the station.

"So, we did good, right?" Alex asked from the back seat.

"You guys did great! I'm so proud of you both," I said with a smile.

"How did Theo take you dumping him," Beth asked.

"You know, for an FBI agent, it's a little disappointing that he had no clue that I was the one using him," I said with a shake of my head. He'd been on our trail for months, and it was depressingly easy to get him to notice me and then turn his attention to the Haris brothers. Alex had no problem forging the documents that indicated the brothers had robbed us of our home and my life's savings as it was very close to the truth. They had been genuinely horrible people, and I didn't feel a second of sorrow over their death, even if they didn't actually cause our financial ruin.

We didn't participate in the murder, of course. I would never let my kids get blood on their hands. The Haris brothers might have lived to hurt people another day had they not made a critical mistake. They had been exceptional detectives in their own slimy way and had stumbled upon our little operation. They tried to get us to work for them, and when I refused, they threatened my kids. No one threatens my kids. Arranging a meeting with the Fannings had also been easy, and Bill Fanning came up with the train idea on his own.

"Oh, and Mom, please, let me choose our fake names next time. I mean, Jack and Jill? Sandy?" Beth rolled her eyes.

I smiled. "Alright, but only because your editing of that security footage was brilliant."

"So why don't we get some pizza and enjoy our vacation," I said.

Beth looked at Alex with a grin.

"Now that the Anesthesiologists are dead, we have a new scheme, Mom. Less risk, better payout."

I smiled. And people said being a single Mom would be hard.