Lost at 90 Miles Per Hour

By Rachel Pinder

As summer comes to an end, 14-year-old Kat Donoghue and her family board a train home to Brooklyn. What begins as a fun trip soon turns into the most exciting moments of materialistic, celebrity-infatuated Kat's life, but not in a good way.

 

A run-in with Stephen Reyes, a Hollywood IT boy, prompts her to want to hunt him down and get a picture of him to share via social media. With her younger sister

 

Meg in tow, she chases Stephen down, not realizing that they're not the only ones in pursuit of the handsome celebrity.

 

Soon, Meg vanishes. Now, it's up to everyone on board to find her, the kidnapper and the person behind the plot.

 

Can she root out the perpetrators and find her sister before they depart the train?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rachel Pinder
• Release date: Nov 10, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215985427

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

THE END OF SUMMER

***Kat***

With hair that should not be seen in public, I hobbled past the metal door and into a concrete office the size of a jail cell with a long metal table in the center. " He took my phone away. Otherwise none of this would have happened."

Please, a deep voice belonging to an old fat guy in dark blue directed, Sit down.

Detective John gestured me toward a metal folding chair. The female detective next to him, Paulette Simperry, according to the man outside, watched me stumble in. 

I leaned my crutches against the concrete wall and tilted the metal chair sideways. As I was carefully twisting my hips to sit, the balding grump with triple chins barked, Don’t move the chair. 

I couldn’t help but stare at him. Couldn’t he see the cast on my leg? I mean, what else was I supposed to do? Throwing my arm up in exasperation, my phone almost fell out of the pocket of my stupid blue house dress.

Paulette rolled her eyes and stood up. With her tight skirt and shiny silver hoop earrings, she looked more like a duchess than a cop. I smiled in thanks when she offered me her arm. With her help, I hopped and shifted into the chair and then slid my legs underneath the table. Chunky John pressed play on a small gray recorder and asked me for my name.

I’m Kristen Nicole Donoghue. But, you can just call me Kat.

The Duchess straightened my house dress from the back. My phone shifted in my pocket. I couldn’t wait to start tweeting again, but their help and our safety had to come first.

After sitting back down, Paulette opened up a small notebook in front of her and wrote down my name.

Chunky John was in the middle of asking me another question, which I ignored, to ask Paulette, Ms. Simperry, what are you writing?

The Duchess put her pen down. I’m sorry, Kat, she said, sounding like a kindergarten teacher. I’m just taking a few notes for our investigation. Otherwise, we may end up asking you the same questions over and over. She picked up the pen again. Is that alright with you?

Kristen, Detective John asked. How did you know her name?

"It’s Kat—and the guy at the desk told us all about you." I couldn’t take my eyes off of the upside-down handwriting or the wisps of light brown hair under Paulette’s darker wig.

Young lady, his finger tapped the table to command my attention. We need the facts that our relevant to your statement.

Okay. I turned my head to focus on him. What does relevant mean?

His lips locked tight.  

Got it. Just the facts. Let me start at the beginning. I settled back against the metal chair.

ABOUT A WEEK AND A half ago in Santa Fe with my dad and his new wife Lynette, there was this awful, terrible dinner. We were all sitting around, pretending to enjoy Lynette’s tofu chicken marsala. When my phone chirped. I reached into my pocket, and Dad’s fist slammed down on the table. He said stuff like enough is enough, and my friends bother me too much. Like having friends and a social life was keeping all of them up at night. Really? He can be so ridiculous. But that’s when he took the phone away. He took it right out of my hands, and mailed it straight back to Brooklyn.

After that, I just wanted to go home. Anyway while Dad was buying tickets for the train, I sat down on an empty concrete bench.

Meg, my little sister, left the gift shop and came skipping over as soon as she saw me. Her brown hair looked frizzier and more tangled than usual, so clearly she’d forgotten to run a comb through it.

In a heartbeat, Meg thumped down beside me and was like, Loan me ten bucks. 

No way.

But Kat, she whined. We have to buy a T-shirt for Sam.

I tried to ignore her whining by twirling my hair into a bun. For the longest time, I thought I’d be an actress and a model when I grew up. So, I practiced different faces on Meg and our half-brother Sam whenever I could. 

We promised, Meg cried and stomped her foot. You promised him that we would bring something back.

In reality, I never promised Sam a thing. But – there’s a gap between her two front teeth that stands out every time she opens her mouth. Poor kid still needs braces really bad. I offered a compromise. Only if I can borrow your phone.

She sat back and rolled her eyes at me. Meg usually does that to avoid a fight or getting into trouble. So I pointed and mumbled, go ask Dad.

Of course, Meg went skipping over there like the perfect little princess and in less than a minute, he reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty. You know, life just isn’t fair.

Meg, money in hand, went bouncing back into the gift shop to buy the gift.

Kristen, Dad hollered after buying the tickets.  Time to go.

I clenched my teeth and dragged myself across the white and green tiles of the train station toward him.  Honestly, he’s so cheap that he wouldn’t pay for someone to help with our bags. We actually had to carry our own stuff on board. And as I got a little closer, I could see a dark green duffel bag over his shoulder. At first, I wondered where he got it from. But it didn’t really matter. Whatever presents he bought for us, I was still mad about the phone thing.

I stopped right in front of him but refused to look him in the face. So Dad kissed my cheek and grabbed one of my hands like I was still a little kid. He smelled like cheeseburgers. He always smells like cheeseburgers and gasoline. There was a time when we would fix cars together. The smell never bothered me—he just looked too much like a hairy chubby teddy bear lately. Doesn’t he realize that he’s teaching Meg to go out in public like that too?

Whatever. When I was close enough to hear him, Dad started talking in his fake happy voice. I hope you had a little fun this summer.

But before I would have to say something back, Meg came running toward us with her shopping bag. Dad reached out for her with his other hand. The duffel bag hit her in the back when they hugged but she didn’t seem to mind.

After that, we walked onto the platform together like three stiff penguins joined at the flippers. I tried to wiggle free a few times. Dad would not let go until we stopped in front of this lady in a horrible lime green suit and hat. Honestly, looking at her for too long would give you a headache. But, her Jimmy Choo stilettoes were super awesome. They had these silver laces that went up almost to her knees with diamond studs at the heel and toe. I wanted to share them on Snap Chat so bad; my fingers wouldn’t stop twitching. So, as Dad handed over our tickets, I tried to take my mind off of things again.

This time I glanced over my shoulder and saw three big blue bins rolling across the platform. They were each marked with an H, so it was definitely hospital stuff. No big deal. Right? But pushing the last cart was this super ugly nurse in horrible cheap scrubs. I’m telling you, Vampire Nurse had fangs, huge green eyes, and pale white skin; super creepy.

And, I think she must have felt my eyes on her because she bolted over to me. Without hesitating, she gave me a quick wink and went back to pushing the cart again. Ugh. What can I say? Another awesome Snap Chat moment gone forever—all because Dad was trying to be a parent.

I heard my dad say, Megan, you go first, and turned my head back around. 

Meg took one step on the train and almost lost her pants. Honest and truly, after all the sweets she had this summer, she had to wear a baggy T-shirt and sweat pants home. Most of her clothes didn’t fit her anymore. But the food junkie boarded the train okay; and I followed without another word.

As soon as we were all on the train, Dad’s green duffel bag hit me on the back of the leg. He asked me if I was alright, but before I could answer he ran over to this really cute crew member to get directions to our cabin.

And oh my god, this guy was way too good-looking to work on a tin can with wheels. You would have just died if you’d seen him. With those dark eyes and dimples, Smoking Hot at the very least belonged on Instagram. If I’d had my phone, I would have snapped a picture. But, the moment was gone.

So me, Meg, and Dad walked into a bar car with a couple of TVs blaring and sports stuff plastered on the walls. I was starting to think that this train might not be so bad for one night. Then out of nowhere, I saw a big orange sign on the wall advertising Internet packages for sale. If only Dad would buy an Internet package for Meg’s phone. I was out of luck, but he’d do it for her.

I kept one eye fixed on the sign as we walked passed it. At the very last bar stool, I pretended to trip on a leg. It was a YouTube moment worth a thousand likes. I totally wrinkled my khakis and T-shirt on the dirty floor, which would have been okay if I’d gotten my way.

Kristen, Dad called out in alarm.

Meg dropped down on the floor beside me and grabbed my hand. Are you okay?

Yeah. Meg helped me up. And since this was my one and only chance to talk to her in secret, I whispered, Tell Dad to buy an Internet access code. She just rolled her eyes at me again.

Dad muttered something about being more careful and we moved on.

Cabin nineteen was the trains’ second to last car. It was a really long walk. By the time we got to the cabin door, my arms and back were throbbing from the weight of my bags. And to make matters even worse, the roomette was small and ugly. I mean, as soon as Dad opened the door, I saw four brown walls, two brown curtains by the window, and a brown carpet. The room looked like it was made out of cardboard. When I stepped inside I saw the absolute worst thing of all—one full-sized bed right smack in the middle, which meant Meg and me would actually have to share for the night. Ugh.

After dropping my bags, I peered out of our tiny tinted brown window. There were more people lined up outside waiting in the station. I just couldn’t