In the Black (11 page)

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Authors: Sheryl Nantus

BOOK: In the Black
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Etts twisted back and forth, beeping again. The translated question held a hint of humor about the human condition, as much as an AI could make.

“Well, yes. I figure when we check the
Belle’s
cameras we’ll see her sitting in the cockpit or going into her quarters and doing a whole lot of nothing. There’s no reason for her to be walking around and if she did someone would notice, even if it was only something like walking through the landing bay and saying hello to the clients. Her job’s basically done once the presentation is over. Unless she hacked the surveillance systems to hide her movements, and I don’t see her having those skills.” He wondered exactly what Sam had in the way of skills that had been kept off her files. After the Hub there was a large gap, an annoying gap, a gap easily filled with secrets.

He hated secrets. Secrets destroyed lives.

Sam Keller had looked—the only word that fit was
glorious
—when he’d come upon the confrontation between her and the miner in the hallway. It had been like seeing a real Amazon in action, the way she’d begun putting that thug down.

His heart had almost stopped when she looked at him, her face flushed with the heat of battle. Her lips partially open, the ragged breathing—

All he could think about was if she looked like that in bed.

And how he could find out.

Daniel blinked, trying to shake himself out of the remembered fantasy. He wasn’t usually distracted like this. He wasn’t given to flirting with every woman he met. There was something about Sam Keller that called to him, a sadness in her eyes crying out for comfort and solace.

He knew a little about that.

He’d seen it in the eyes of the woman accidentally shot while they scoured the homestead for contraband that was never there. He’d held her until she’d died and then reported it instead of staying silent, earning him a temporary exile from climbing the UNS ladder of command.

Daniel had almost forgotten that look, that plea for someone to touch and hold her even as her life had drained from her broken body.

He’d seen something much like it in Sam Keller’s eyes. The need to be held and stroked, to be touched and caressed as only lovers can do.

He wanted to be the one to bring her back.

That damned woman had broken him with nothing more than a glance and a snarl.

He couldn’t leave the
Belle
without finding out more about her.

The box chirped, a higher and more urgent pitch to the tone. Daniel stepped toward the corner of the room where the robot assistant was pointed.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

* * *

The small computer screens in the cockpit ran through their preprogrammed routines, switching from the
Belle’s
internal cameras to the externals and back again. Sam glanced once at the inside shots, still seeing no real activity in the landing bay. The men were playing cards, talking or napping under the stern gaze of the security team.

The back of her own head flashed across the screen as the cockpit view came up. She turned her attention to the externals set on the
Belle’s
hull and watched the ground crew swarming over the few ships hooked up to the loading docks. Huge boxes slid along conveyer belts to waiting transports while red tentacles sprawled across the floor, running liquid imports and exports. The base might technically be locked down but the ships in port would still be loaded and readied for when the word was given and the shipping lines opened up again.

The ore still flowed, had to flow no matter what. Supplies in, new miners in, ore and broken men out.

Soon Halley Comet’s body would be down in one of those boxes; tagged, bagged and loaded for transport.

She’d seen enough of those deliveries to last a lifetime.

Sam turned her attention away from the belts and to the most recent addition to the spaceport.

Off to one side sat the marshal’s ship, a sweet little teardrop-shaped craft built for speed and painted in UNS red-and-blue. She’d seen the type before—it was a variation on the military’s scout ship without visible gun ports and probably a lower-grade engine. Minimal weaponry but more than the
Belle
carried. Missiles, some modified projectile weapons.

Definitely no lasers. Those were still a high-level military weapon and too expensive to have on anything but the best military ships. The UNS might deal with the same manufacturers but they wouldn’t get access to all the bells and whistles.

It was still a damned pretty ship. She’d love to get a fast ride on that.

The marshal had tethered it to the same main access tunnel as the
Belle,
which explained how he’d managed to get to the fight so quickly. Probably heard the fuss and came to her rescue, not that she needed rescuing.

Sam closed her eyes.

She didn’t deserve rescuing.

“Hey.” The male voice jarred her out of her inner thoughts. She turned to see Daniel floating next to her. “We’ve finished our examination and scans. Cabin’s ready to be cleaned.” His eyes met hers. “I’ve officially released the body.”

“Thank you. Hold on a minute, please.” She tapped the console, sending a fast text to Danforth and copying it to Huckness. A fast side note went to Jenny, telling her to clean out the cabin afterward and prepare Halley’s personal items to be shipped to her family.

She’d already gone over how to deal with the body. Two base medics and accompanying security guards would come on board to put Halley in a body bag. She’d be taken to Danforth’s area, where he’d do a full autopsy and determine the actual cause of death. After he finished the report, her body would be moved into the unheated section of the base until transferred to the first departing ship along with her belongings. All of it would be passed down the line, ending on Earth, where her family could collect her.

Outbound in a luxury suite, homebound in a cargo bay.

She’d seen too many people traveling cargo.

The messages sent, she turned her attention to the marshal. “That was fast, if you don’t mind me saying so. Any idea what happened?”

The tall, lanky man settled down next to her, squeezing into the narrow space between chair and wall. “Seems to me like someone killed her and then slit her throat.”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” Sam couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “Any further revelations you can share?” His body pressed against her side, the heat radiating over her skin. A shiver vibrated through her.

She hadn’t realized until that second how damned cold the cockpit was. Goosebumps dotted her skin as she resisted the urge to move closer.

“Knife was wiped clean. No prints but that’s not a big surprise. At least we know it came from the galley. Saves me trying to find out where on the base it was taken from.”

“Hmm,” Sam replied. “Not much but it’s something. Anything else?”

“How about this?” His hand dipped into an inside pocket in his jacket and came back out. He flicked something into the little bit of emptiness left between them.

The small, clear evidence bag floated in the air.

A token. Blood smeared across one side. She recognized it as the same one she’d handed out not so long ago.

Her stomach lurched.

“You said you gave out a token to one of the men. Is this it?” he asked.

“As far as I can tell.” She jabbed the bag with one finger, sending it spinning end over end. “This is only good on Mercy ships and I doubt the last one gave out a token that didn’t get used. You can check on that, call the previous captain.” A pain started in her gut, spiraling around her spine like a boa constrictor. “It’s likely to be mine.”

“I figured as much.” Daniel said. “I’ve got the order out to find Kowalski—he’s the fellow you gave it to, according to Trainer. He’s not down with the other men in the bay, so he must have slipped off before you locked ’er down.”

“You think he’s the killer.”

“I’m not saying that. I want to talk to him and ask how this got into Comet’s suite covered with blood. I’ll send it off for analysis and see if we can get something off it.”

“You’re not going to get a print,” Sam choked out. “These tokens, they’re coated with a special Guild varnish. Doesn’t hold a fingerprint.”

Daniel raised one eyebrow. “Holds blood easily enough.”

“But no print. Part of the Guild’s efforts to keep the clients as anonymous as possible. You’ll be able to confirm it’s her blood but not much else, unless he bled on it himself.”

“Maybe we got lucky and he cut himself on the knife. It’s something, better than nothing.” He tilted his head to one side. “You don’t seem too happy. Care to share?”

She poked at the spinning plastic bag again, stopping its rotation. “I like to think I’m a pretty good judge of character. He didn’t strike me as being dangerous.”

“You only saw him for a minute or less, from what I heard. You can’t tell anything about a man in that short a time.”

“No. I can. I have. I have to.” The words came out loud and harsh, almost a shout. “I need to be able to tell. I have to protect my squad.” She stumbled, self-correcting. “My crew. I gave the token out. If I gave it to a killer then I’m responsible for letting this madman get to Halley. I handed him the key and held the door open for him to murder her.” She turned away and studied the screen. Her vision blurred but she resisted the urge to wipe her eyes.

She’d be damned if he’d see her cry on the bridge of her ship.

Daniel’s hand landed on her wrist.

“You’ve got good instincts, Sam. Don’t start doubting yourself. You’ve got what it takes to do this job. You’re a good soldier.” There was a note of pride in his voice, twisting the invisible knife in her belly.

“Past tense. I was a good soldier.” Sam wrenched herself free. “I let this creep get to Halley.”

“It doesn’t mean he killed her,” Daniel said. “I’m not stopping the investigation just on this one possibility. A floating token isn’t proof of anything other than that Kowalski might have been in her room. He’s on the short list but I’m not stopping there. Huckness and I are reviewing the men’s statements, trying to see if anyone stood out as especially angry or with some sort of issues. The chief’s a good man. He’ll speak up if something sounds off or out of place.” He looked out toward the cargo bins being moved across the floor. “I already cleared you as a possible suspect,” Daniel added, almost as if it was an afterthought.

“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.

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