In the Black

by Sheryl Nantus

  “Really.” She turned toward him and tried not to sound surprised.

  “Really,” he replied.

  “Because—”

  “Belle confirms that you were on the bridge when the murder happened, so you’re clear. Unless you want to confess and let me slap the cuffs on you.” Daniel licked his lips, sending a warm tingle down her side where their bodies touched. “Sort of a nice mental image there, if you’re into that sort of thing. Or want to try.”

  Again it sounded like a question instead of a statement, his tone swinging up at the last word.

  Sam chuckled, feeling the tension in her back and shoulders start to give way under the marshal’s gentle touch and his flirty comments. “In your dreams, LeClair, in your dreams. I just drive the ship. No one touches the captain, remember?”

  “I wasn’t talking about just touching.” He winked, sending her blood pressure into orbit.

  Momentarily at a loss for words, she studied the monitors, trying to compose herself. There was something happening between them and it wasn’t just a casual connection because of the horrible circumstances.

  There was a familiarity between them, a sense that in the middle of this crisis, he was where he was supposed to be and so was she.

  It was both terrifying and comforting.

  “I believe you offered me some coffee,” Daniel said. “I’ve got a few minutes to spare. Can I take you up on that offer?”

  Sam undid the harness, then pushed away from the chair, floating perilously close to the marshal. “That I did. Shall we?” She gestured down the corridor, almost giddy at the chance to offer him simple hospitality.

  Daniel flattened himself against the wall instead of moving ahead, making her swim by him to get to the door leading to the galley. As she took hold of one of the leather straps and pulled, her hip brushed against his.

  Thank God the galley was air-conditioned.

  Daniel followed at a safe distance, letting her take the lead as they entered the galley. She moved to the dispensing station and hit the button to heat up a tube of coffee. “Sorry but we’re going to have to do it in zero-g.”

  “I’m flexible.” His infectious smile was almost her undoing.

  Sam mentally smacked her forehead. Here, of all places, she could be sure every innocent phrase would be heard in as much of a sexual manner as possible.

  “How long have you been running the Belle?” He rested his back against the wall.

  “Six months.” That much would be in her file.

  He was fishing.

  For what she didn’t know.

  The dispenser gave a low beep. She plucked out the tube and replaced it with a second one. “Standard coffee rules. If you want cream and sugar press the packets on the side.”

  Daniel nodded as he reached out for the drink. “Got it.”

  She tossed it end over end toward Daniel, spinning it in order to spread the heat out evenly. She’d burned her tongue too many times, finding steaming hot liquid on the first sip and barely warm coffee at the bottom.

  He caught it with practiced ease. “And before you came to the Belle?” He bit part of the top off with his teeth.

  His lips sealed around the gap with skillful timing as he made sure not a drop escaped. He pulled back for a second, long enough for his tongue to flick out and grab the moisture beading on the edge as the liquid surged toward escape.

  Then he did it again, applying just enough pressure to the tube to bring the drink to the edge before snagging it with his tongue.

  Expert technique.

  And not only applicable to drinking coffee.

  “What?” she mumbled.

  “Where were you before the Belle?” One edge of his mouth twisted up as if he knew the torture he was putting her through.

  “You’ve read my file. Ground pounder, nothing special.” The dispenser dinged again and she turned back to the wall, grateful for the chance to look away and attempt to gather her scattered thoughts.

  She put one hand up to her face, trying to look casual. Her cheeks were warmer than the damned coffee.

  Sam plucked the tube out and tapped the cream and sugar packets, sending them into the coffee. She placed it between her palms and gave it a fast spin.

  If the good marshal wanted to play, she was ready to meet and beat him on any level.

  Two could play at this game.

  Daniel hadn’t had so much fun in months. This woman was primed and ready to go off if the simple act of sucking on a tube of coffee had that effect on her. He’d seen the scarlet flush in her cheeks before she’d spun around.

  He’d played like this before, usually in a bar where the women could be easily impressed at the tricks one learned when one lived most of the time in zero gravity. But Sam Keller should know this game from her years of military service and be immune to its effects.

  And yet she wasn’t. She was reacting like a virgin on her first trip out of regular gravity.

  Sam turned back, her own drink in hand.

  Time to continue his casual interrogation. “So how does a ground pounder end up captaining a Mercy ship?” he asked.

  “I applied for it. Same as everyone else.” Sam lowered her lips to the light-colored tube and pulled the tab free with her teeth.

  “Fair enough.” The questions in his mind about why she’d chosen this path disintegrated as she wrapped her lips around the tube and took a deep, long swallow.

  Swallow wasn’t the word to describe it.

  Her lips caressed the tube, teasing the liquid up to the top where it flowed down her throat.

  He immediately regretted challenging her on this front as his body reacted to the not-so-subtle mouth play.

  This wasn’t a rookie. She wasn’t some naïve debutante out for her first spin off planet and eager to find out what pleasures she’d experience away from her family. He wasn’t going to woo her with a few sweet words and a quickie roll in a cargo bay somewhere with a tearful farewell.

  “How did you become a marshal?” she murmured in a low, sultry voice.

  “What?”

  “Marshal. You. How?” She grinned at him.

  “I applied for it. Same as everyone else.” He couldn’t wrestle his eyes off those lips, wondering how much she could have learned in six months on the Belle.

  Coffee break had to end. He was here to find a murderer and his own needs would have to wait a bit longer.

  Denied temporarily but not permanently.

  Sam waited, letting him decide if they’d play a bit longer. Judging by the way he was shifting his hips back and forth, she’d won this first skirmish.

  “Unfortunately we need to get back to business.” Daniel cleared his throat. “Was there any recent tension between Halley and the other women?” He didn’t touch his coffee, letting it float alongside him.

  Sam took it as signaling his retreat from the battlefield.

  “There always is.” Sam waved one hand in the light gravity, grateful they’d gotten to a truce before either of them had exploded from need and want. “A few hours ago they were bitching about the portfolios I put up for the miners. They approved them and still complained about it. Next stop they’ll whine about something else. There’s always going to be something someone gets upset about.”

  Daniel’s eyebrows rose. “How upset were they about the portfolios? Anyone in particular strike you as being more upset than usual, something simmering under the surface?”

  “Just the usual mumbling. Sorry, no fistfights or death threats.” She shook her head. “Marshal, you put a bunch of divas together and you’re going to have a lot of catfighting.” His amused expression made her laugh. “Now I just put that image into your mind, didn’t I? Pillow fights and women prancing around in their underwear.”

 
He chuckled. “Catfighting, hmm? And call me Daniel—we’re the same rank.” He swam beside her to drop the half-empty coffee tube into the incinerator, then waited.

  “Maybe.” He was close, way too far inside her personal space. Every time he shifted, every muscle twitch brought him closer to touching her.

  He might as well be sitting in her lap.

  She scrambled for words. “You’ve got some pretty competitive men and women here trying to make their money as fast and as efficiently as possible. They’re constantly working on offering more services, better services than the next one.” Sam caught his curious look. “And not only in that way.”

  “‘That way,’” he repeated. “Care to elaborate?”

  She turned and faced him, meeting the challenge head-on. “They offer a lot more than just sex. We’re talking chess, tai chi, massage therapy—anything you can think of. Mercy women are expected to excel in a number of areas, like an updated version of the geisha and call girl combined.” Her right eyebrow slipped upward. “And yes, sex.”

  Daniel leaned in so close his lips were almost touching her ear. “And what’s a nice girl like you doing here?”

  “Running the show.” She put one hand on his chest and waited for a second, feeling the heartbeat under the palm of her hand.

  She resisted the urge to close her eyes and lose herself in the solid, comforting rhythm. The way she wanted him threatened to shatter her resolve, break down walls she’d worked hard to build up over the past year. “I’m in charge here. I’m the final word on all things on board. I call the shots. And I’m not one of the girls.”

  “Ah.” The shirt under her hand shifted slightly as Daniel pulled back until they were almost touching noses. “You’re wearing perfume.”

  She winced, remembering she hadn’t been able to shower after her “performance.”

  “So what?”

  “Kind of odd for a captain, wouldn’t you think?” He inhaled deeply. “It smells nice. Refreshing and yet—” Daniel paused, his forehead furrowed. “I can’t put my finger on it.”

  His breath tickled her cheek and her pulse shot up into the danger zone.

  He smiled. “It suits you. Strictly business.”

  “Thank you.” A light push sent him floating away and out of her temptation range. “Now go find out who killed my courtesan.” She cleared her throat and wagged the tube of coffee at him. “There’s still a murderer to find and bring to justice, Marshal LeClair.” Sam flicked her finger toward the hatch. “Go. Coffee break is officially over.”

  He gave a dramatic sigh and clutched at his heart before he reached for the straps. “Playing hard to get. I like that in a woman. I’m going to start by interviewing the staff, then move on to the miners.” A saucy wink flew her way. “I’ll be back. I don’t give up easy. You should remember that.”

  Sam chuckled in spite of the circumstances.

  “Captain?” Belle said from one of the overhead speakers.

  “Yes?” She watched Daniel heading for the galley exit. The man sure filled out his jeans.

  Her hand tightened around her coffee.

  Another option had opened up, one that would allow her to get rid of her sexual tension and avoid the embarrassment and cost of hiring Sean.

  Daniel LeClair. He looked like the type to love ’em and leave ’em with a smile, a marshal used to casual hookups.

  Maybe later she’d see exactly how good he was with that tongue. And after he’d scratched her itch and solved the murder, she could send him on his way and get back to the boring routines of life on a space brothel.

  It was a much better option than dealing with either Sean or Dane. And a heck of a lot cheaper.

  “I have a priority call for you. I’ve routed it to the bridge.”

  It was a polite way of telling her that she didn’t want to have this conversation anywhere near the marshal.

  “I’m on it.” Sam tossed the tube into the garbage and swam back to the cockpit.

  A red light flashed on the control panel in front of her.

  Incoming message from the Guild.

  That banished all thoughts of Daniel LeClair as she opened the communication channel and strapped herself into the command chair.

  Chapter Five

  Daniel stopped in front of the dead woman’s quarters, his mag-boots keeping him anchored in the zero-gravity section. Kowalski was waiting for him and in theory he should be heading for the security office, but every minute the Belle stayed locked down was another minute of screaming from the Guild reps. Getting statements from the other courtesans and doing the same with the miners would enable Sam to reopen the Belle and keep the Guild off her back, along with lessening the tension among the miners. The brawl Sam had prevented was only the beginning; the longer the ship stayed locked, the more fights and arguments Huckness would end up dealing with.

  In theory he could insist on the Mercy ship staying locked down with no one admitted until the case was closed.

  In theory.

  The fact was, the base needed this ship up and running as soon as possible and he had to make that happen even if it took bending a few rules.

  Improvisation. It wasn’t only for comedy clubs.

  A quick glance up and down the hallway showed Comet’s cabin sat in the center of one side of the courtesans’ quarters. He considered the sleeping arrangements he’d seen in the Belle’s file.

  Three suites on each side, facing into a single corridor. To Comet’s left, April Osano, the woman who had found the body. To the right, Kendra Champagne. Across the way, Bianca Montgomery and the two men, Sean Harrison and Dane Morris. All of the suites had easy access to Halley’s.

  April had discovered the body but she’d been drugged by the medic right after that, according to the update he’d gotten from the Guild. He looked at his watch. There was no use talking to her for another hour or so.

  Best to start his hunt elsewhere.

  He rolled his shoulders back and stepped to the right. The unmarked door matched all the others.

  Daniel rapped his knuckles against the hard steel, ignoring the door chime button.

  The door slid open so quickly it appeared as if she’d been waiting for him.

  Kendra wore a bright red robe pulled tight around her, a wisp of lacy black lingerie poking out at one shoulder. Her long blond hair hung in a braid over one shoulder.

  “Please come in,” she purred. “I figured you’d be by at some point.”

  She turned on one stiletto. “May I offer you some coffee? I just got hold of some lovely French roast.”

  “No, thank you.” He followed her in, adjusting to the suite’s full gravity. “I’m fine.”

  The arrival area reminded him of an office, any office in a thousand rooms on a thousand worlds. A wooden desk with nothing on it and two chairs—nothing to indicate the business transactions here were anything special or extraordinary. A magnetic go board hung on the wall, the black-and-white stones battling for territory on the grid.

  She motioned for him to sit. His boots dragged on the thick blue shag carpet.

  “I’m comfortable with zero-g,” Daniel offered. “Whatever’s most comfortable for you.”

  Kendra moved around to seat herself opposite him, smiling across the blank surface. “It’s been charged to the Service.” She held up her hand before he could speak. “Your Commander Harris was very understanding about our need to be at ease during these interviews and authorized the expense for all of your discussions with the Belle’s crew.”

  He bit his tongue, imagining how that conversation must have gone. He doubted Kyle had put up much resistance and the Service would be handing the bill off to the Guild for repayment. Either way, the courtesans would get their cut for the privilege of hosting a UNS marshal, albeit for an intervi
ew pertaining to a murder investigation.

  It was always about the money.

  “I know you’ll want to tape this for your records. I have no problem with that.” She gestured at Etts, still clipped to his belt. “Please proceed.”

  Daniel studied the woman’s face. If Kendra had killed Halley, she was a master at hiding her emotions. On the other hand he’d have expected nothing less of a woman with her Guild record.

  He placed the black box on the table. “Etts, begin recording. Full permission given by Kendra Champagne.” He paused for a second to allow the computer to catch up. “You know why I’m here.”

  “She was murdered. No accident, no suicide.”

  He resisted the urge to pull back, stifling his shock. “How do you know that?”

  Kendra waved a hand in front of her. “I listen to the walls, Marshal. They tell me everything.”

  Or you killed her, the nagging whine in his head said.

  “This isn’t my first time out. I’ve seen courtesans kill themselves and I’ve seen murder.” She shrugged. “After a while you get to know the difference, sense the difference.” There was a sadness in her voice.

  A shiver ran down his spine.

  “The Purge?” Daniel lowered his voice. “You were there?”

  Kendra stared at him, the steel showing through the silk. “Let’s just say I have experience in such things and leave it at that.”

  He cleared his throat. “Do you know of anyone who had a problem with Miss Comet?”

  “Everyone on the Belle disliked Halley for some reason. Well, except for Bianca.” Kendra drew one finger across the desktop. “Halley Comet was young, brash and thought she knew better than the rest of us.” The invisible circle closed under her touch. “Thought crunching numbers made her unique.”

  “Did it?”

  She gave him an alluring smile. “No one is unique in this world, Marshal. No one’s thought of something we haven’t seen or done.” She dipped her head to one side, letting the sultry side through. “Nothing at all.”