It was the Spring of '55 when she was found in a Chicago train station. Just a dime-a-dance and a quarter-for-more chippie. Suicide. A train ticket fluttering out of her dead fingers: Watersmeet, Michigan. The end of the line. 400 miles north, Watersmeet station master Jess Burton broods in this tiny northwoods burg, watching Chi-Town high rollers and glamour gals hop off the train to head for their lakeside mansions and highbrow resorts. Till that...