Training Days by Jane Frances Page A

protesting. Morgan took over when Nick and Mark stopped by their compartment to pick up the camera and audio equipment, and she continued with her arguments against this juvenile idea almost until the moment Kitty called “action” on her interview with the train driver.
    By late morning, when the train made a refueling stop at the tiny settlement of Cook, they had all but given up on trying to sway Kitty’s decision. Many of the passengers disembarked for the half-hour stop, not only to explore the place but also to watch the taping of Morgan being shown the sights by the two people who currently made up the entire population of the settlement. As soon as the train pulled out again, Kitty announced she needed to make some calls and retired to her compartment with her satellite phone and her laptop, advising she did not want to be disturbed. Morgan joined Mark and Nick in their shared accommodation. There they reviewed the footage shot that morning and bitched about their producer.
    At twelve-thirty Morgan stood and stretched. “I’m going to freshen up, guys. See you at lunch.”
    At ten to one Morgan eased into the booth at the far end of the restaurant car and slid across the plush upholstered seating to the window. She noticed that, although the booths were technically for four-person dining, the table was set for five. Another very cozy meeting.
    “I’m guessing you still haven’t changed your mind about this little charade?” she said to Kitty, who slid in opposite her.
    “No.” Kitty picked up the menu card and scrutinized it. She peered over the rim of her spectacles at Mark when he arrived and sat down next to Morgan. “You’re sitting with me today, remember. That’s Nick’s seat.” She frowned. “Where is he, by the way?”
    Mark obediently changed places but rolled his eyes at Morgan once he was out of Kitty’s line of sight. “He’s still in our room. He’s not happy about this at all, Kitty.”
    “And neither am I,” Morgan said for the umpteenth time since Kitty had announced her little plan over breakfast.
    Kitty checked her watch, pulled out her phone and dialed. She thrummed her fingers on the blood-red linen tablecloth then spoke a very curt “where are you?” into the mouthpiece. She snapped the phone shut and announced to the rest of the table, “He’ll be here in a minute.”
    Morgan sat in silence until she saw Nick enter the restaurant. The poor guy looked like he was going to be sick. Her heart went out to him. During their midday bitch session, Nick had told Morgan there was a reason he was behind the camera and not in front of it—namely, because he hated being the focus of attention. He also admitted he couldn’t pull off a lie to save his life, and that this whole thing was going to end up in disaster. When Morgan advised him to tell Kitty this, Nick had just shaken his head and fallen into a nail-biting silence. Now, knowing it was her actions that had brought all this nonsense on, Morgan decided to tell Kitty herself. She paraphrased all Nick had told her and ended with one last plea: “Let’s just forget about this. We can have a nice lunch with Alison and once she sees we’re all nice, normal people, she’ll forget any ideas she may have about spreading any rumors.”
    Kitty looked long and hard at Morgan. “Did you or did you not tell me last night to handle this how I wanted?”
    “Yes,” Morgan reluctantly acknowledged.
    “Well, this is how I am handling it,” she said brusquely, motioning for Nick to move a little closer to Morgan. “That’s better.” Kitty swiveled in the direction of the carriage’s far entrance and immediately turned back to the table. “She’s here,” she whispered. A bright smile transformed her features and she swiveled around again, this time to give a little “we’re over here” wave above the ornate clear-glass partitions that separated each booth.
    Morgan watched the woman—Alison—approach. The description Kitty