CHAPTER TWENTY
The man waited a little while after the train left the station. Then he got up from his seat and walked from one passenger car to another until he got to the café car. Sure enough, there she was, sitting alone at a table, her eyes focused on her smartphone.
She hadn’t noticed him, and he decided not to catch her attention—not just yet.
Instead he stood at the end of the car and looked at her.
Her name was Sally Diehl, and she looked markedly like the other two women—the same slender face, curly brown hair, slight build. It was that resemblance, of course, that had drawn him to her. Her unwariness, too, was somehow seductive. She didn’t yet know that these traits and characteristics marked her for death.
He shuddered at the thought.
He felt a strong urge to turn around
