He listened to the rough exchange between Belle and Sam. “Etts, please ask Belle to talk with me on a private line.” The AI could multi-task; it was what she did best. It wouldn’t be a stretch for the ship to talk with both Sam and him at the same time.
“Marshal,” the ship purred, “what can I help you with?”
“I understand you have a situation.” He looked out a nearby window and watched Sam bolt between two groups of miners. “Please brief me on it. Code Alpha-Three, rendering all assistance to a law enforcement official when asked.”
Sam would be furious.
He’d deal with that later.
* * *
Sam stopped by the hatch leading to the Belle’s landing bay, catching her breath and trying to calm her racing heart. Dashing through the waiting customers would signal something was wrong and undo the entire point of asking Belle to keep things quiet.
She opened the hatch and forced herself to walk through the landing bay at a leisurely pace, ignoring the miners lined up as if they were in the mess hall waiting for dinner to be served. It was difficult to move slowly as each casual step brought her closer to the door leading to the private quarters.
A soft snick as she put her hand on the hatch signaled Belle deactivating the lock with perfect timing. It was a good move by the AI, guaranteed not to draw attention to the emergency.
Once she locked the hatch behind her, she ran through the main hallway, noting each courtesan’s door was closed.
Halley’s door was still sealed, the bright neon-yellow crime tape keeping it secure.
The door leading to the galley swung open on her approach, saving her precious seconds as she went through. It shut behind her, the bars sliding into place and locking as Belle kept to her designated routine.
Jenny was at the far end of the galley, curled up in a corner. She floated there, eyes saucer-wide as she stared at Sam. She wore the same oil-stained jumpsuit and her tool belt.
But Jenny didn’t have the equipment to deal with this.
Sam wasn’t sure she did either.
Bianca stood on the table in the center of the room, a Japanese tanto at her neck with the business edge of the blade pressed against her pale skin. The small sword wavered in the dim fluorescent lighting. She wore a pale yellow T-shirt and jeans, both well-worn with age.
She looked far younger than her years.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” Bianca sobbed. Tears streamed down her face. “We were almost done with the ship, done with this job, done with it all.” Her eyes darted around the cabin, over and through Sam. “I can’t go back to work without her. I won’t go back to work without her.”
Her eyes were wide and unfocused. Maybe it was grief or she’d gotten Sean to give her some tranqs. Either way she wasn’t playing with a full deck.
“No one’s going to make you work if you don’t want to, Bianca. Grendel can go fuck himself.” She made an obscene gesture, getting a shocked look from Jenny.
That earned her a nervous giggle from the courtesan.
Good.
Sam reached out one hand and patted the air. “It’s going to be okay, Bianca. Just put the knife down and we’ll talk about it. We can work something out. There’s no need for this.”
The frazzled woman stopped laughing and stared at Sam for a long second before pushing the blade even tighter against her skin. “Don’t come any closer. I’ll do it.” The blade shone in the overhead fluorescent lights. “I’ll do it,” she repeated. “I’ll cut my throat just like he cut hers.”
“Bianca, we all miss Halley. We all miss her.” Sam tried to sound as sympathetic as possible. “But this isn’t the right thing to do. Put the knife down and I’ll call the Guild, get you some vacation time. You’ve earned it. You deserve it.” She forced a smile. “Maybe on Rocha Nine. I’ve heard it’s a nice place to stay at, bright blue seas and beaches that don’t ever stop.”
Bianca stared at Sam. “We—we were going to buy out our contracts together, save up our money and cash out. Settle down somewhere on one of the outer colonies and homestead.”
Sam resisted the urge to sigh. It was an idealistic view of life, one that forgot the hold the Guild had on their courtesans. Buying out their contracts would take a shitload of creds and you couldn’t make that on the Belle, not without cutting back on all luxuries and a few necessities. From what she’d heard most courtesans signed up for a second tour still owing money from the first.
It was the Guild’s way of keeping control. At the end of your contract you might walk away with a bit of a nest egg and the reputation of being a Mercy woman or man. Or you could hope for a lot of generous tips, good luck in your investments and maybe a sugar daddy who wanted to take you away from all this.
“We’d be together. Forever.” Bianca’s voice took on a dreamy tone. “When I saw her I knew it was true love. She felt the same and we knew it was fate.”
Sam didn’t reply, holding her cynicism at bay. Out in space the urge to hook up was strong and she’d seen plenty of love stories gone wrong during her time in the military. Dear John/Jane letters were the norm when you dealt with lonely men and women desperate for love and connecting in all the wrong places. There was just something about the cold, stark darkness that made you want to grab hold of something, someone and pull him or her close to banish the fear.
She couldn’t fault Bianca and Halley for wanting to be together.
But she sure could try to make sure they didn’t both die because of it.
“Bianca, would Halley want you to do this? What would she think of you, scaring us all like this?” Sam spread her arms out, showing empty hands. She took a step toward the distraught woman. “Don’t do this. Put the knife down and we’ll talk, come up with something else, some way for you to get what you want. This isn’t the answer.”
“No.” Bianca’s voice rose to a shriek. “If I can’t be with her I don’t want to be with anyone else.”
A shadow moved behind the hysterical woman, detaching itself from the darkness behind one of the storage cabinets.
Sam knew that area, where they kept the disposable dishes and cutlery. There was no door there; there were no entrances into the galley other than the hatch to her cockpit and the one to the private quarters.
There was, however, a maintenance shaft.
Sam froze. She tried to catch Jenny’s eye, hoping and praying the mechanic wouldn’t react to the intruder.
Jenny bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood but she stayed silent.
Sam squinted. She knew that figure, knew that silhouette.
Damn him.
“Bianca, listen to me.” She tried not to look at Daniel. “I’m here, I’m talking to you. I want you to focus on me and what I’m saying. I’m your captain. You have to trust me to do what’s right. I want justice for Halley. I want her killer to pay for what he’s done.”
Jenny curled up into a smaller ball, if that were possible. She clenched her knees and pulled her head down, drawing shallow breaths.
Sam resisted the urge to move forward, get closer to the frantic courtesan.
This wasn’t her area of expertise. The manual didn’t include anything about dealing with suicide attempts.
The brunette shook her head. “I know you think I did this, and I know the Guild thinks I killed her. They think I fell out of love with her, sliced her open. They’ll tell the marshal to blame me, put me away.” The knife pressed against her pale skin. “She was my whole world. I loved her. I wouldn’t kill her.”
“Then don’t do this,” Sam said. “If you’re dead they can say anything they want about you. They can put out whatever story they want about you, about Halley. Don’t let them do that to her and her memory.” She spread her hands wide. “Let’s work together and prove your innocence. Let’s show th
e Guild they can’t do what they want, get their way all the time.” She twisted her lips into a wry smile. “Let’s show those bastards they don’t always get to win.”
Bianca stared at her for a long moment and then returned the smile. She drew a shallow, wheezing breath before pulling the blade away from her skin.
She still held it horizontal to her neck, within the danger zone. “You’ll help me find who killed her? You’ll get me the truth?”
“I promise with all my heart.” She extended her hand. “Please trust me. Trust us.”
“No.” The blade flew up to press against bare flesh. “You’re the captain. You don’t understand us, what we do and what we go through. You don’t know anything.”
A roaring filled Sam’s ears. All she could see was Bianca’s eyes widening as she prepared to cut her throat.
She’d failed.
Again.
Another death on her hands because she couldn’t say enough, couldn’t do enough to keep someone alive.
Daniel stepped out from behind the locker, his mag-boots keeping him grounded. His hand landed on Bianca’s shoulder.
Her eyes went wide, tears breaking free to stream down her face. Her lower lip trembled and Sam knew Bianca thought she’d been betrayed.
The blade shook, reflecting the fluorescent overhead lights.
“Look at me,” Sam said, raising her voice to command level. “Bianca. Look. At. Me.” She locked eyes with the terrified woman, praying this wasn’t about to turn into a bloodfest. If the panicked courtesan started swinging that sword around—
Sam heard something, a low shushing sound like a father would make to an upset child as Daniel leaned in, his lips close to Bianca’s right ear. Whispers followed, so low Sam couldn’t hear. Another few sentences and the courtesan’s shoulders slumped forward.
Bianca swallowed loudly as his hand moved off her shoulder. He wrapped his fingers around hers, taking control of the blade.
More murmuring. Soft, gentle words.
Another hand moved to land on her waist, holding her still.
Bianca sobbed as the knife moved away from her neck and down to her side in a slow, controlled motion.
He took it from her, then stepped out from behind her.
Daniel looked like hell.
Streaks of black oil stained his snow-white hair, his jeans torn in spots and the white T-shirt stained with unknown substances.
Whatever magic this man had, he’d made good use of it—she’d seen enough death for a lifetime and didn’t need to see another. She had no idea how he’d gotten out of the shaft and managed to sneak up on Bianca with his mag-boots activated. She could barely manage to not sound like a stampeding elephant and that was with years of usage.
Daniel turned Bianca to face him, the tanto safe at his side.
“You’ve had a bad time of it. You need to lie down and rest. Please go to your quarters,” he whispered to her with more than a hint of authority in his voice. She stared at him, then at Sam, then back at the marshal with a childlike expression of fear before swimming toward the hallway door.
Bianca didn’t look at Jenny. The mechanic stayed curled up in a ball as the courtesan paused at the hatch.
“Belle, let her out.” The door unlocked on Sam’s command and swung open, letting the stunned escort leave.
Sam watched the young woman float down the corridor to her quarters, the door opening automatically courtesy of Belle again. Bianca slipped inside and the hatch swung shut.
“Lock her down, Belle,” Sam said. “All doors, please.”
She couldn’t hear the snick of Bianca’s door locking but she heard the galley hatch close.
“She’ll be fine. I’ve instructed your computer to pump a bit of knock-out gas into her cabin air for the next few hours, keep her calm and asleep.” Daniel motioned toward the closed door. “She’s still stoned on something. Probably got another dose from Harrison and got herself all riled up. A good nap will help her get this out of her system.”
He turned toward Sam, passing the short sword back and forth between his hands. It danced in the air, the thin yet deadly blade hovering in zero-g.
His tone changed from professional to anger, the steel edge slicing the air as cleanly between them as the sword could. “What the hell is this doing on board?”
“The Guild allows personal weapons on board for protection. In case a client gets into a situation where she can’t call on Belle for help.” The words burned on her tongue.
“Left that bit out of their briefings. I’ll make a note for future reference.” He eyed her. “You got anything more than your sidearm?”
“None of your business.”
It was bitchy but she was too wired up to be tactful.
Jenny uncurled herself and dogpaddled toward the hatch. “I’m going to go lie down.” She swallowed loudly. “I don’t feel too good.”
“Belle, let her out.” Sam caught Jenny’s eye as she swam by. “Head back to your quarters. Stay there—I’m serious this time. No maintenance, no nothing until we get this resolved.”
Jenny nodded before heading through the open hatch.
Daniel studied the weapon. “Wonder what other surprises your crew has hidden away. Maybe I should search all of their quarters, see what other goodies they’ve got under the mattresses.”
Sam’s vision narrowed into a crimson tunnel.
She was pissed at Daniel, Bianca, Jenny, the Bonnie Belle, the Guild and everyone who had ever crossed her path or would in the future.
She was most ticked off at herself for failing her squad. Again.
A few steps and she was nose-to-nose with the marshal, the words coming in short pants as she tried to control her rage. “How did you get through the ship? Belle had her locked down. And what the hell are you doing, interfering with my business, my crew?”
“You’re welcome.” He crossed his arms, annoyingly calm. “When you ran off I tapped into Belle’s conversation with you and assessed the situation. I overrode the lockdown and came in through the undercarriage.” Daniel pointed downward. “The same way Jenny gets around, in the access and maintenance tubes. And my rank allows me to order Belle to do whatever I deem necessary for the continued safety of the crew and the customers.” He rubbed the top of his head, wincing at the sticky mess. “Hell of a tight fit.”
“No. This. Is. My. Ship.” Sam emphasized each word with a poke of her finger into his chest, making sure to punch through the dirty white shirt into hard, solid flesh. “You do not fuck with my ship, mister. Or my people. Or me.” She’d expected to butt heads with him over authority, but not so soon.
“Even if I pay the going rate?” The smile wasn’t infectious.
A black-lacquered scabbard floated nearby, within reach. She ignored it. “Not even if you paid double.”
Daniel grinned. “Maybe I’m so good you’ll end up paying me.”
Sam snorted. Right now she’d consider switching teams.
“Okay, I get it. You’re annoyed at losing face in front of your crew.” Daniel reached out and took hold of the scabbard. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out a large evidence bag scrunched up in a ball.
The clear plastic packet unfolded slowly in the light gravity. “But you couldn’t have thought I’d sit back and let you deal with this on your own.” He tapped his chest, over his heart where an imaginary badge would sit. “This is what I get paid to do. This is my job.”
“And this is mine.” She sucked in her breath through clenched teeth. Technically he had a point but she’d be damned if she gave an inch. “You’re not in charge here. I’m in control.”
“Calm down,” Daniel said. “You look like you’re about to pop.” He smiled, that same damned smile she’d seen after they’d kissed up on the bridge. “
Again.”
Sam glared at him. “Can we keep our minds on business or am I going to have to—” She paused, searching for some sort of phrase that couldn’t be taken sexually.
She couldn’t think of one.
Daniel chuckled and slipped the blade and scabbard into the evidence bag, obviously enjoying her discomfort. “Maybe we should both take a cold shower before continuing this conversation.” He raised an eyebrow. “I need to clean up anyway and wouldn’t mind the company.”
“Maybe you should do your job and stop teasing me,” she snapped. “All you’ve done since coming here is ogle me and paw me over. You’re no closer to finding who killed Halley and that’s what you’re here for, not to flirt with me or be cute or—” She stopped, unable to find any more words.
“Look.” Daniel took hold of her forearm. His tone shifted from playful to deadly serious. “I know you’re in a pissed-off place right now. I’d be the same if one of my men betrayed me. But that doesn’t mean you get to beat on me.” One edge of his mouth twisted up. “I’m not into that. At least not on the first date.”
She resisted the urge to pull free or better, kick him in the shins. A mag-boot in the right place hurt like hell, as she’d recently illustrated. Instead she glared at him, hoping he had enough common sense to see it her way.
“There’s more to this than you just being ticked at me. Does this go back to what you said about not protecting Halley?” He paused and she saw the sadness in his eyes. “Does it go back to the Hub?”
Sam jerked away. “What do you know about that?”
“Nothing.” She heard the truth in his words. “But if you want to tell me about it, I’m here and willing to listen.”
“This has nothing to do with the Hub.” Sam’s heart felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. “This has to do with a murdered woman.”
“I’d say. Two of them.” He moved closer, his steel blue eyes locking with hers. “You never let yourself come back from the Hub, did you?”
Sam opened her mouth but couldn’t find anything to say. She closed it with a snap and spun on one booted heel, taking long strides to get as far away from Marshal LeClair as fast as she could. “If you need me I’ll be on the bridge doing my job. Belle, restore all functions. We’re back open.” She resisted the urge to sigh. “Again.”
In the Black Page 18