Sam sighed. “She’s already had enough of that. I’d love to have her sleep her woes away but that’s not right. I’d much rather her come to you and be assessed before we get her hooked on Belle’s special sauce.”
He rocked his head from side to side in agreement/disagreement before smiling. “I hear what you’re saying. Mind you, it’d be nice to ask her to use it in my room when I get a grumpy client. Beats the heck out of trying to sweet-talk him or her out of filing a complaint.”
She chuckled. “Or when someone starts whining in the galley.” Sam flashed back to the morning meal and Halley’s complaints about the token.
Sean caught her sudden mood shift. “I know. She was a bitch but she was our bitch.” He sighed. “Poor girl never really fit in. It’s hard to transfer in from another ship. I was glad she found Bianca. It helped her get along with the others.”
She turned a critical eye on him, hating herself for doing so. “Are you glad she’s gone?”
He shook his head. “I’d never wish death on anyone, Captain. Not when I’ve seen what it can do to a family, a community.” A sudden sadness appeared in his eyes. “What do you know about me?”
Sam shifted in the chair. This wasn’t going anywhere near how she wanted the conversation to go. “Aside from what’s in the official Guild files, nothing. Those are the rules. You join the Guild and your past is your own.”
“It is.” He cleared his throat. “My family and I were on Vegas Four when the flu epidemic broke out twelve years ago.”
“I remember. It was bad.” She regretted the last word as soon as she said it.
Sean chuckled. “Bad’s one word. Horrible is another. It’s strange how much we think we know about the human body and yet one single nasty bug can come along and take out nine-tenths of the entire population.” He looked out the small window by Sam’s side. “I originally worked as a sanitation worker. A garbage man.”
“A far cry from the stage,” she murmured, unsure what to say.
He chuckled. “Not what I’d expected to do with my life but fate calls us to different paths. When the plague hit I kept working, doing what I could to maintain a normal routine. I learned my medical skills in the field. We didn’t have enough supplies or personnel so we all became medics in one way or another, caring for friends or family until they had space in the hospital. Or the morgue. Or the fire pits.” His accent became more pronounced, his tone rising and falling as if he were singing. “They rushed in a vaccine but it turned out to be too little, too late. We spent hours in the hospital with Jacob, my boy, until the very end.” He cleared his throat. “After that I stayed home with Sara because there were no beds left. Or body bags. She asked to be buried in the back, in her garden. I couldn’t say no.”
She felt like the rust on the bottom of Jenny’s toolkit for suspecting Sean.
“When the medical ships arrived we were all checked and cleared, offered free passage off world if we wanted or money to rebuild our shattered world.” He cleared his throat. “There were plenty of companies moving in, jobs opening up and a chance at making it a better place. But I couldn’t stay. There was nothing left for me there. So I signed up with the Guild and shipped out as soon as I went through the training.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t wish ill on anyone, Sam. Life is too short and can end at any time. You have to grab what you can and hold on with both hands before it gets torn away by forces beyond your control.”
Sam took a sip of water, unable to speak.
“But that’s my cross to bear and not yours.” The bright blue eyes sparkled. “And here I am, tugging on your ear with my own tale of woe. Not very nice of me, hmm?”
Sam shifted in the command chair, eager to change the subject. “You’ve got no work?” She wasn’t used to having anyone up on the bridge other than Jenny. In the six months since she’d taken over the Belle she’d never had anyone else visit, and Jenny tended to stay wedged in her metal cocoon during their chats.
There wasn’t another seat to offer Sean. Well, other than her lap.
A mental image of Daniel pressing himself against her flashed across her mind’s eye. She coughed, trying to banish the pleasant memory before Sean caught on.
“I’ve got an open slot. I figured after the last disturbance I’d try and keep things loose.” He cocked his head to one side, a hint of a smile on his lips. “So I thought I’d come up and see what’s bothering my fine captain today? Aside from, of course, murder and mayhem running amuck on her ship. You sounded pretty tense during that talk. Is there anything I can do to help out?”
The accent caressed her like a sip of Guinness, reminding her why Sean was so popular. For a woman wanting some sweet loving he presented quite the package with his dark hair and soft voice. It was easy to imagine paying for an hour of cuddling and cooing with this man.
“Since when do you do therapy on captains?”
Sean spread his hands, floating beside her. “I’m a good-hearted soul who would hate to have to break in a new one so soon.” He tilted his head and smiled. “So tell your Uncle Sean what’s on your mind.”
Sam rubbed her eyes, realizing she’d been awake for far too long. “I’ve got one dead woman and another one who just tried to join her. I’ve got Grendel breathing down my neck demanding this entire thing be over already and a damned marshal slinking around taking control whenever he feels like it.”
Sean waited until she’d caught her breath before responding. “Taking control of you or the Belle?” He winked. “Some women like it that way.”
Sam glared at him.
He held up one hand. “Don’t be taking my head off because you’re a little wound up. As I said when you came on board, my door’s always open to the captain.” His friendly smile disappeared. “I have to admit I’m here for reasons other than just checking on you. I’m also here on behalf of Kendra, April and Dane.” One end of his mouth twitched. “Obviously Bianca wasn’t privy to our discussions and we didn’t want this to go via the monitors.” He pointed upward. “Eyes and ears everywhere.”
Sam’s stomach lurched. She had an idea of what he wanted to discuss.
They were thinking of going on strike and Sean wanted to talk it over before Kendra dropped the bomb.
She tried not to scowl. It was possible for the courtesans to go on strike under Guild rules if they met a long line of requirements. She had no idea if murder was one of them—but shutting the Belle down for the rest of their stay would be financial suicide for everybody.
“We’re concerned about how things are going.” He gestured at the door behind them. “The customers are talking about the situation, almost more than they want to do anything else. Some of the men straight-out canceled their appointments. They’re worried about having a murderer among their ranks and the entire base being boycotted and held responsible by the Guild if someone doesn’t go down soon for the crime.”
“Understandable.” Sam crossed her arms in front of her.
“Kendra and the rest of us are considering this visit as a short run due to the stoppages.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “We don’t want to sound too mercenary but that’s the harsh truth. We all want justice for Halley but the longer it takes to catch this killer the more money we’re losing. Add in that Bianca’s now down for the count and we’re looking critical.” He studied her face. “So do you want to tell me anything? Something I can take back to Dane and Kendra and April? Something off the record?”
Sam paused, a snappy retort on her lips. There was no point in taking her anger out on Sean.
“Daniel’s doing all he can to find the killer. Huckness’s helping but you know we can only go so far, so fast.” She tried not to glance at the monitor, still displaying the blurred images. “We don’t want to grab the wrong man or woman for this. I know Dane told you that crap about Daniel being bought off but I can promise you that’s not goin
g to happen. I’ve gotten to know Daniel pretty well and he’s not going to stop until he gets the right man or woman for the crime. It may take some time but you have to trust me on this—we’re working hard and no one’s slacking off to win brownie points with anyone.”
“Understood.” Sean’s smile returned. “I’m not trying to be difficult. I think we’ll be fine and we’ve hit rough landfalls before. This situation just has us all on edge.”
She shifted in her chair. “Now that you’re here, maybe you can save me some research.” Sam reached up and tapped the overhead screen displaying the appointment bookings. “Has anyone gotten the majority of Halley’s clients? Profited from her death?”
It was a feeble shot in the dark. She didn’t want to think this came down to mere money.
It was also classified information she wouldn’t be privy to as a captain without a damned good reason and direct permission from Grendel.
Sean paused for a minute and she imagined a tiny calculator spinning numbers in his mind.
He knew the Guild rules.
He also knew how important this could be to finding Halley’s killer.
“I’d say it’s been pretty spread out among all of us. Some of the miners are gone, though, if they only wanted financial advice.” He chuckled. “Specialization, that’s the key. Have something no one else has and offer it for a profit.”
Sam studied the darkness. “It’s always offering what someone else wants, isn’t it? And then someone goes and takes it without asking.”
Halley’s life.
Sean pulled himself closer, his hand wrapped around the leather strap nearest to her head. “Don’t blame yourself for this, Sam. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m responsible as the captain. Anything and everything that happens on this ship is my duty.”
“Are you now? And I suppose if I drop dead of a heart attack taking care of some lovely lady, you’ll worry over me as much?” He continued, not giving her a chance to respond. “You’re responsible for our wellbeing, true. But you’re not in control of everything. You can’t be.” He swung one hand up toward the ceiling. “The ship, she can’t run everything and Lord knows she’s got the programming and the megabytes of memory to do so. If she can’t do it what makes you think you can?”
Sam stared at him. The tightness in her chest lessened a fraction.
“All you can do is your best and I don’t think anyone can say you haven’t done that so far.” He plucked her hand off the armrest and patted it. “You’ve been a good captain, and I’ve seen quite a few come and go.”
“Remember that when Grendel’s calling for my head,” Sam replied.
“Don’t let him rattle your cage. Molly, the captain before you, was drunk half the time and he let her go on until she finished her tour and rotated out. Hopefully she went to a rehab facility to dry out.” Sean chuckled. “Lord knows I tried to point her that way enough times.”
Sam joined in, enjoying the brief moment of humor.
He stroked her hand, his soft fingers running over her weathered skin. “Belle should have gotten double pay if she’d been on the books. Molly was a handful and a half, to say the least.”
Sam gently pulled her hand free. “Did Molly, ah—” The words were there in her mouth but she couldn’t spit them out. Her face grew warm.
“You want to know if sweet Molly ever took advantage of our services? Or mine, to be blunt?” He winked at her. “I can’t tell you because of the secrecy clauses but I can say I never turned a captain away from my door. I’d say present company included but I understand you’ve got eyes for the marshal.”
“Where did you hear that?” She resisted the urge to lean away from him.
Sean laughed. “From you just now.” He reached out and tapped her cheek. “I know what a woman in love looks like.”
She shifted in her chair. “I’m not in love.” She added a snort at the end for emphasis. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sean gave a low laugh. “Oh, now. You think you’ve got us all figured out, don’t you?” He swept a hand at the galley behind them. “You know why we’re all here and what we’re searching for, hmm?”
She stumbled for an answer. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then don’t be thinking you can deny something we deal with on a professional level, every day we’re out here.” He pointed at himself. “Me, I usually get the lost souls, the ones who want to know there’s still hope of finding a soulmate, someone they can tell their innermost secrets to. They come to me and get that security for an hour, that sense of belonging to someone.”
Sam rolled her shoulders, feeling the tightness across her back. “You ever have someone come back and tell you they’ve fallen in love? The true stuff?”
Sean gave her a soft smile, more sadness than joy. “Not once, not yet. Hoping to do so before I finish my tour. I’m thinking it might happen this time around.” Sean touched his temple with two fingers. “As you were, Captain. See you later.”
He spun around with ease and pushed off from the wall to soar toward the door.
Sam sat in stunned silence as the hatch swung shut behind him, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Chapter Nine
Daniel glared at the text message. “Does she think I don’t know how to do my job?”
Etts, sitting on the table next to a cold cup of coffee, let out a series of beeps and chirps.
“I wasn’t asking you.” He pointed at the adjoining monitor, the feed from four security cameras splitting it into quadrants. “I know what I’m doing!” The shout echoed around the tiny room, a stone’s throw from the main security office.
Huckness had taken one look at the marshal’s face after coming back from breaking up a fight and detoured Daniel to a private room. He’d used the excuse of giving the marshal privacy for viewing the security tapes before scampering out under the claim of having to do paperwork.
Daniel figured the security chief was afraid Trainer would return and he’d be caught in the middle of a fight between the foreman and Daniel, caught between a rock and a hard place.
He didn’t know how much Huckness knew or if he was in on Trainer’s offer to sideline Kowalski but he suspected the man was trying to stay honest by staying as clear of the conflict as possible. Moving Daniel to another room didn’t prove Huckness’s motives but it was better than setting up a potential confrontation that wouldn’t end well.
He’d spent the last half hour going over the grainy tapes, stopping to review Sam’s performance more than once. The woman was a pro. It might be all for show but she played for maximum effect, just as the Guild would want. The way she’d approached that damned rookie; the way she’d flirted with him before dealing with the broken Kowalski; the way she’d kissed the kid and practically invited him to make a home between her breasts—
The computer made a grinding noise as the images stopped again, the angle rotating to zoom in on the blurred figure.
Daniel jabbed a finger at the lower left image. “She’s right. The bastard is limping. He’s dragging his leg. Get me Danforth.”
It took a few minutes to get the medical officer on the intercom, during which Daniel spun the fuzzy three-dimensional silhouette around using the keyboard. There was no way to digitally enhance the image and get a clear picture of the worker with the base’s limited equipment but it was more than he’d had an hour ago.
“What’s up?” The voice came through the speakers.
“The token was pulled out of the garbage by one of your men, who was wearing coveralls and limping. It appears his left leg is injured. I need the medical roll call for the last few days. No way this guy kept going to work without either going on sick call or getting a fast patch from one of the medics on the floor.”
Static fill
ed the air for a few seconds. “I can tell you without looking. We had one man get too close to the vats, tripped and brushed against the hot metal—major burns. He’s in recovery.” He sucked in his breath through clenched teeth and whistled. “Poor bastard is going home as soon as he can travel. Hopefully he’ll survive the ship transfer to get to a proper burn unit on Martin Three-Five-One. They’re the closest we have to a hospital out here.”
“Damn.” Daniel didn’t have to imagine those injuries. He’d seen enough maimed and injured people over the years.
The freedom of space came with a high price.
“And?” He cleared his throat.
“That’s it. No one else.” Danforth sounded almost apologetic. “We don’t get a lot of injuries, Marshal. That’s one of the reason why we’re allowed Mercy ships so often. We keep our standards high and take care of our employees. They know to be careful and they don’t play sick to get out of a shift.”
“Long-term injuries, then. Someone treading water until their pension kicks in like Kowalski. Getting his buddies to carry him.” Daniel tried to keep the desperation from his voice. If the killer was smart enough to snag the token and use it to incriminate Kowalski, he’d be smart enough to disguise himself. The limp could be there to throw him and anyone else viewing the tape off the trail.
“Not that I know of. But you’ll have to ask Swendson for that one. If anyone’s riding for free ’til his time’s up, he’d know about it.” A note of sarcasm crept in. “Sounds like a union problem.”
“Right. Thank you, Doctor. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else.” Daniel made a gesture and heard the click from Etts, signaling the line had been cut.
He looked down at the blurry image. “Etts, ask Huckness to come in here, please.”
The security chief opened the door within a minute. “You called?”
Daniel waved him in. “I’ve got a lead. Isolated the guy who took the token from the garbage. Seems Kowalski was telling the truth about that much.” He tapped the screen. “Guy walking with a limp. You recognize him?”
In the Black Page 21
