Garret and Darvk exchanged looks, then looked towards where Maverk was obviously standing off-screen. Someone said something low, and to his irritation, Simon couldn't hear it.
When the two men in view looked back at him with raised brows, he frowned. “What?"
"Uh-huh,” Darvk said.
"You're attracted to this wench, but don't want to wed her?” Garret queried.
He wasn't about to study that too closely. “Your point is?” Simon growled.
"Don't play with the fire if you're not prepared to put it out."
"Aamun said I'd get burned."
"Aamun knows what he's talking about. He's got more lasses at home than you and I ever bedded."
"Aamun has five daughters,” Darvk reminded Simon. “Listen to the man."
"I'm not sure if Aamun is worried about me or Des,” Simon stated.
"Really?” Darvk rubbed his chin thoughtfully and exchanged glances with his friends again.
More low voices, and Simon rolled his eyes.
"Okay.” Garret turned back to the screen. “'Tis the plan now, so listen up."
"What? I don't need a—"
"You need to woo this wench. Play nice. Be gentle—"
"Des had a laser pressed into my crotch earlier today.” Simon leaned back in the chair. “Aamun's worried she'll blow my manhood away."
His concerned friends stared before giving barks of laughter.
"Aye, I thought you'd like that,” Simon said dryly.
"Friend, you have to bring this lass back home for us to meet.” Garret wiped tears of mirth from his eyes.
"I don't think ‘tis going to happen."
"Mmm.” Darvk had that speculative look in his brilliant blue eyes again.
He was pushed aside, and the blonde head of Maverk appeared. “Never mind these two morons. Now listen to me. You go charging in there and sweep that wench off her feet, show her who's in charge."
"Didn't Heddam tell you she stunned me and threw us all into gaol?"
Maverk stared at him a moment, then with a snigger, he backed out of view. “Back to you, Darvk."
"Gee, thanks.” Darvk peered over Garret's shoulder again. “Don't rush things, but don't let too much time go in-between, either. Lingering too long puts out any chance of a fire."
"Garret just told me not to play with fire if I wasn't prepared to put it out."
"We've changed our minds."
"Look, I appreciate your—er—help, friends, but ‘tis totally unnecessary. I have things well in hand."
"You don't have a plan,” Garret said bluntly.
"I don't need one. I'll go with my instincts."
"Oh, ‘twill be interesting."
"I'm a master of seduction."
This was met with hoots of merriment.
"Now I've things to do other than stand gossiping with you three while you try to plan my love life—"
"You don't have one yet,” Maverk pointed out. “But give us some time and we'll have you in over your head."
"Aye, ‘tis what I'm afraid of."
"You have no sense of adventure."
"Oh, I think he does,” Garret objected. “He's the one running around after The Demon."
"I'm not running around after her,” Simon said exasperatedly.
"Oh. So you're not attracted to her after all?"
"I didn't say that—"
"Because Heddam said you had your tongue dragging on the ground every time she was near."
"Heddam says a lot of things."
"He also repeated what happened on the platform lift.” Garret's brows waggled up and down.
"Heddam wasn't there—"
"Didn't have to be. He said the speakers nearly went up in smoke."
"Heddam doesn't have much longer to live."
Simon's friends roared with laughter.
By the time they'd regained control of themselves, Simon's humor had returned. “Don't fear, my fellow wench-chasers. I will conquer this lass."
"I hope so,” Darvk said. “I've a bet riding on this."
"Was there ever a doubt?"
Darvk just smiled, his eyes holding a gleam of something Simon couldn't decipher. But it made him uneasy.
"'Tis time we go.” Garret gave a little wave. “The communicator wants his chair back to contact some of the other trade spaceships."
"And he wants to inform the others of the latest developments,” Maverk added happily. “Seddam and Carlow's crew are nearby, and said they're going to stop in for a little look at this peacekeeper themselves."
"What? Nay!” Simon scowled. “Maverk, she's not some freak to be stared at! If Carlow comes to stare, I'll break his neck!"
"Ooohh.” Garret smirked. “Touchy."
"Mmm.” Darvk winked. “Never fear, loverboy, your wee wench is safe from Carlow."
"Damn it, Darvk—"
"We're kidding you, but interesting reaction.” He nodded musingly. “Very interesting."
"You bastards."
His friends grinned widely, and then the screen went blank as communication was cut off. Before the curious face of the Daamen Trade Base communicator could come back on, Simon flicked off the screen and shook his head, half in laughter and half in exasperation. His friends were having a wonderful time at his expense.
Leaving the control cabin, he went up to the dining cabin to get some food. Once inside, he grabbed a plate of sandwiches from the cooler and a cup of hot una, turned to sit down and found himself looking at a jacket that was thrown across one stool.
Des's jacket. Placing the plate and cup on the table, he picked up the jacket and flicked it open. A peacekeepers jacket, with a small hand sewn badge. Nothing silver, for it would catch the light and reflect to outlaws, giving away any position.
Just the thought of Des in danger from outlaws made Simon's lips tightened. Almost instantly he shook his head. Hell, I've got it bad. This lass ‘tis not one to trifle with, and I need to stop before it goes too far. Her life is her own business. Teasing her is one thing, but worrying about her in her job is another entirely. I don't have the right to worry, or the wanting to. Nay, I'll do better to simply get someone to return this jacket and forget about her.
But ‘twas easier said than done. Her flowery scent rose to his nose, soft and subtle and sweet, and he inhaled deeply. Nay, he'd return it himself this evening.
* * * *
Six shadows slipped into the settlement under the cover of darkness. Using the shadows for cover, they broke up into two groups and each went into a different tavern.
They merged with the other settlers and the lowlifes who dared to show their faces now and again. The outlaws sat and listened, talked, subtly probed for information while buying ale to loosen tongues.
Two of the outlaws went upstairs with a couple of tavern whores, and they came back down at closing time without the women. They left the taverns at the same time, but drifted off into the night in different areas before meeting up at the spaceship. It took off silently into the night, and aboard the ship the outlaws imparted their news and laughed at what they'd left behind them.
* * * *
The rain was pelting down outside, and Des was just finishing running the trace elements discovered at the warehouse rubble. She was tired and disgruntled, for the elements showed nothing unusual.
Another dead end.
Glancing at the timer on the wall, she saw that it was two in the morning, and with a flick of her wrist she turned off the element degrader. About to reach for her jacket, she swore as she again realized that she didn't have it. Misplacing her things was not something she did habitually, so it was more than annoying, especially as the night was chilly.
Stretching, she left the little information room and moved out into the main office. Yucel was alone, manning the scanner and communication systems.
"Find anything?” He looked around at her.
"No.” Opening the drawer on her desk, she started going through the contents. “I thought I had a
bag of lollies in here."
"I think I saw Aiken sneaking some out,” Yucel said.
"Thieving bastard. I ought to arrest him."
He laughed while she opened the next drawer. Craving a sugar fix at two in the morning was not a common occurrence, but when it happened, she was always confident in having a bag in her desk. Except when one of her men pinched them.
Opening the second drawer, she dimly registered Emory entering the office, shaking the rain from his weather coat.
"Quiet evening?” Yucel queried. “Apart from the two tavern whores that were raped and killed at the Outlaw Tavern?"
"Bloody stupid name.” Des squinted into the depths of the drawer. “What, they think it's going to attract more cliental?"
"Who knows?” Emory moved up to the desk. “Thought you'd be interested, Boss."
"No offense, Emory. I feel sorry for the girls, but it's a risk of their profession, and one they knowingly take. Rapes and murders happen more regularly than not to them.” She glanced up at him. “I want the bastards who did it found. Now I'm going home."
"But—"
"You're handling it, remember, Emory? You can all handle it, you've done it in the past and you've been doing it for the last hour.” She sighed. “I'm tried, I'm cranky—"She caught the raised brow of Yucel. “Crankier, then. I've been up for hours and I want to go home. Deal with it."
"I've asked questions.” Emory followed her across the office.
"I don't need a bloody rundown of your steps, Emory."
"You need to know something important. Something really—"
Exasperated, Des stopped and swung around to look down at him. “Hell's bells! All right! What is it? And I'm warning you, this had better be good or you'll be on foot patrol for the rest of the night!"
"Six unknown men were in the settlement."
"So? What's unusual about that? People come and go."
"Two of them were with the tavern whores."
"And your point is?"
"An unknown spaceship with tremendous speed was spotted leaving the area two miles away."
Des went still, her mind sorting out the information rapidly. “So those men may have come from that unknown ship."
"Yes.” Emory watched her.
"Yucel!"
"Don't start on me, Boss. There was nothing on the scanners, I swear!"
Crossing the room in long strides, Des leaned over Yucel's shoulder. “How long ago was the spaceship spotted leaving, Emory?"
"Half an hour."
"Yucel, replay the scanner for the last half hour."
He did so, but nothing unusual came up on the small screen to the left of the scanner. “I'd have noticed, Boss."
"Yeah, I know, I just wanted to be sure.” Des looked at Emory. “Who saw the spaceship?"
"One of Webber's sons. He was out there lovin’ up Nax's daughter, didn't want to be caught, hence going so far out of the settlement."
"In the bloody rain?"
"Had themselves a nice little fire going in a cave."
"Go and check out the—"
"Been there, done that. The entrance is quite well concealed, but there's an opening from which you can see the sky. That's where the spaceship was spotted leaving."
"Damn. I suppose the spaceship left no elements?"
"Rain has washed away anything."
"Did you try, though?"
Emory smiled. “I wouldn't be game not to."
"Wise man.” She started for the door. “Right, take me to the tavern. I want to see these girls myself."
"I thought you would. I've had the whole corridor blocked off."
Getting into the pursuit craft, Des relaxed, though her mind was skipping over all areas to be investigated. “I know you've done everything, but just humor me. Did you pick up anything unusual?"
"No.” He started the engine and they slipped out of the docking bay and into the rain. “I scanned for anything unusual with the element tracer, but there was no metal that might have been caught in the boot treads of the men."
"Print scanners?"
"Nothing. Whoever these men are, there are no records of them."
"Crap!” Des rubbed one finger over her chin. “That means they're virtually untraceable. This is bad, because they can continue to move around the settlements until someone can identify them. And that includes this mystery spaceship."
"Unfortunately, yes."
The pursuit craft slid to a stop outside the Outlaw Tavern, neatly parking beside another pursuit craft, and the side of the door slid down into the panels. Des jumped out and strode into the tavern.
The tavern owner immediately started asking a dozen questions, but Des held up one hand. “Don't bother me right now unless you have any further information to add to what you have told my men."
He subsided.
Going up the stairs, Des nodded to Chas, who was guarding the entry to the hallway.
"Bit of a mess,” he greeted her.
"Yeah, well, some are and some aren't.” She noted the equipment at his feet. Element scanner, communications recorder, print scanner and body scanner. Her men did their jobs well. “Which room?"
"Two rooms. The first victim is in room four, the second in room seven."
Knowing there was nothing further to be contaminated at the murder scenes, Des walked to the doorway of the first room and peered in. Chas hadn't been kidding, it was a mess. The corpse of the tavern whore was lying in the middle of the bed, completely disemboweled. Blood coated the bed cover and floor, and was spattered up the walls. Moving further in, avoiding the blood on the floor, Des saw that her throat had been cut, but going by the horrified expression on the victim's face, she'd known, or at least suspected, what was going to happen. And even more interesting, she'd been completely scalped.
The second room wasn't much better. This victim was lying face-down on the bed, a deep slice running the length of her back, the skin peeled back to reveal the spine. She was also scalped.
Des had seen death in many forms, and had grown hardened to it to a certain extent. Nothing fazed her much anymore. But the scalping was something new. She couldn't remember any victim ever having been scalped in her whole time as a peacekeeper in this section of the outskirts of the Outlaw Sector.
She smiled and left the room.
Chas's brows went up inquiringly at her smile when she came back down the corridor.
"I'll tell you later, but not here,” she said to him. “Get the undertaker to collect these bodies, then the tavern owner is free to do what he wishes.” Arranging her face into an expressionless mask, she went down the stairs and said to the tavern owner, “Can you tell me anything you haven't already told my men?"
"No."
"Have all your people spoken to my men?"
"Yes. Now what about my whores?"
Des scowled, irritated, though why she should be so, she had no idea. It wasn't an unusual reaction for tavern owners to worry about heir money-making pieces of flesh, which was how they regarded the women who worked for them. “Yeah, sorry about that. Seems those two won't be making anymore dinnos for you."
He grimaced. “The mess—"
"That's your problem. We investigate, remove the bodies, and then it's all up to you.” Satisfaction went through her, and she smiled grimly at him. “It's going to be a big job to get all that blood out, Phas. Not to mention that some of your girls will be a bit antsy at going it alone for a while. Tsk-tsk-tsk. Grisly deaths just aren't good for business."
His face went red, his handlebar mustache bristling.
Des tapped Emory on the shoulder. “Let's go."
Once in the pursuit craft, Emory looked at her. “You found something?"
"The murderers may have left a little calling card, a little brand uniquely theirs.” She rubbed her hands. “They scalped the women, and that's not something I've heard of in this section. Have you?"
"No."
"So let's do a search."
Once back in t
he Enforcement Building, Des went to her desk and activated the data murder files. Entering the scalping, she waited while it searched the data banks, and several minutes later it came up with several unsolved murders which involved scalping.
Bringing up the files, she placed them on the large screen on the wall so that all the peacekeepers present could study it along with her.
"Right. Ten women have been found murdered and scalped. Some were whores, some weren't, so that puts paid to any theory regarding whore-based murders. Ages vary, coloring varies, and build varies.” Arms folded, leaning back against the edge of her desk, Des pondered. “No apparent link."
Leaning against the desk beside her, Yucel squinted in thought. “Places are scattered, so no concentration in any one area. Some were even on different planets."
"But there is one link.” Chas observed.
"What?” Des continued to stare at the screen.
"The murders are all within one year."
"Bugger me, you're right!” She smiled. “Well done, Chas.” Moving back to the murder file data bank, she searched for any outlaw who had served in prison for murder, and with a known habit of scalping, but nothing showed. “Never mind, we've found a link. Yucel, contact the Enforcement Buildings in the settlements where the murders were committed, and see what they can give you."
"It'll take some time,” he answered.
"That's fine. Contact them and correlate any information they can send. I'll be back in during the morning sometime. If you find anything that can't wait, contact me. Otherwise, I'm going home to get a bit of shut eye.” Just before she walked out the door, she looked over her shoulder at her men. “And good work. Thanks."
They waved cheerfully at her.
Once at home, she greeted her lycats, fed them and had a shower. But she didn't retire straight away. Taking a seat in the sofa facing the wide glass wall, she pressed the button so the wall slid aside. Now she could smell the rain as it pattered down onto the garden. Breathing in deeply, she relaxed as the chill breeze drifted in and around her, easing her tension. Stretching out her bare legs, she sipped the cold, fizzy drink and watched the rain come down.
* * * *
"Those idiots did what?” Tyson glared at the messenger.
"They went into the settlement and killed some whores."
"Those stupid bastards! Did they leave their customary calling card?"
Heart of a Peacekeeper Page 10