Agony (Debt Collector 2)

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Agony (Debt Collector 2) Page 4

by Susan Kaye Quinn


  “What if there’s no video of the alley?” I ask. “You didn’t even give me a chance to give them a description...”

  She’s still rummaging through her purse. “Did you see anything?” she asks, sarcasm in her voice. “Tattoos? Faces? Something other than,” she makes air quote fingers, “‘three guys in hoodies’?”

  The look on my face says it all.

  She shakes her head. “The police will do their job, Lirium. You focus on yours. But don’t hold out hope for something that’s not going to happen. If Ophelia’s lucky, she’s already dead. And if we’re lucky, we’ll find her body sometime soon.”

  I try to calm my breathing. “How long was Ophelia one of your collectors?”

  My words jar her enough to make her look up from her purse. She stares at me with her devil green eyes. “A long time. Why?”

  “Don’t you care at all?” Maybe I should tell Candy what I suspect… that one of Madam Anastazja’s girls tipped them off. It’s a lead, if nothing else. Candy will string me up for being an idiot, but at least we might be able to track down Ophelia before the mob tears her to pieces.

  If they haven’t already.

  “I care about all my collectors.” Candy looks affronted, but it chills me, because it echoes what Ophelia said. Your psych officer always, always has your best interests at heart.

  Candy goes back to digging in her purse, and I give up. Ophelia is probably being tortured at this very moment, and all Candy cares about is finding her lip gloss. She finally pulls what she’s looking for from her purse. It’s a tracker scanner. She curls her dagger fingernails at me, wanting me to come closer.

  I hesitate. Too long. She gives me a look that makes my throat close up. “I want you to go ahead and do your payout tonight. I know you’re torn up about Ophelia—we both are—but you need to put this behind you and move on. Come here. I need to scan your tracker before you meet the payoff.”

  “You… do?” Flitstrom always scans me. Always. A bean counter has to do it. I’m pretty sure that’s the law, but with the crazy mixed-up state in my head, I’m suddenly unsure. “Er, is Flitstrom on vacation?”

  “No.” She glares at me. “But he doesn’t work nights, if he doesn’t have to.” I belatedly scoot my chair closer and lay my arm across her desk, within reach of her nails and the handheld scanner. I keep my fist closed, so she can’t see the branded mark on my palm while she runs the tracker over my arm. “Flitstrom approved me for documenting your transfer from Mrs. Riley, given the unfortunate circumstances we find ourselves in.”

  Unfortunate circumstances? If she’s so concerned about what’s happened, why the sudden urgency for the payout? Something’s not adding up.

  But that thought is lost as Candy coolly looks at the number on her scanner. I have no idea what it is telling her, but my heart starts to pound and a trickle of sweat forms between my shoulder blades. Can she see the mercy hit payout? Or the blinding hot transfer from the thug in the alley? I don’t know how much I collected then, but it could easily be years. There’s no way that wouldn’t show up. Is there?

  “There was extra,” I say quickly. “Mrs. Riley had more than her two weeks left.”

  Candy looks up at me, a small quirk of a smile showing at the corner of her slickly glossed red lips. “Indeed there was. Lucky thing for Mr. Brodsky.”

  My shoulders relax just a fraction. She sees something, but she’s going to let it pass. “Brodsky?” I say as evenly as I can. “Is that the payoff?”

  She slips the tracker back into her purse without answering, then turns her attention to her palm screen. A few razor sharp taps, and she holds it up so I can see. There’s an image of a man with unnaturally youthful skin. He’s obviously a regular payoff—I can tell he’s much older than his features by the wateriness of his blue eyes.

  “Mr. Brodsky is CEO of Brodsky Electronics,” Candy says. “He’s making some extraordinary breakthroughs in cybernetic implants for the disabled.”

  I hold my palm up and touch her hand quickly. It’s cool and clammy, which strikes me as odd. Maybe she’s as affected by Ophelia’s disappearance as I am, but she’s too icy to show it? The image of Brodsky stares at me from my palm screen along with his basic information.

  I look at Candy, uncertain what I’m supposed to do now. Do I pay out Mrs. Riley’s transfer and all the excess I sucked out of the mob henchman? Both transfers are still singing in my body, filling out my bones, and I don’t want to part with any more than I have to. But I’m at Candy’s mercy. She has the scanner.

  “Does Brodsky get the full transfer?” I ask, deciding that’s a safe question. “Or is there another payoff?”

  Again the quirk of a smile. She knows I want to keep it. “Only pay out Mrs. Riley’s calculated two weeks, plus one more. I’ll tell Flitstrom I’m approving you to keep the rest.” I feel the relief seep through me, and for a moment I don’t hate Candy as thoroughly as I usually do. Then she pushes up from her chair and swings around the corner of her desk. She stands way too close to me, forcing me to look up at her.

  “After all,” she says, “you just lost your mentor and you need something to keep you going for a while.” She takes my chin, tilting my head back even further, her nails scraping my neck. “You are going to keep going, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I choke out, feeling her daggers bite into my Adam’s Apple as it passes.

  “No washing out.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  She releases me and pats my cheek. “That’s a good boy. Just forget about everything that’s happened today. Keep focused on your job. And I’ll check and see if there are any slots opening up soon in medical needs training.”

  She gives me a smile that feels half-leer, half-crocodile-ready-for-lunch. I’m not sure if I want to throw up or curl into a ball of self-loathing. Either way, I need to get out of Candy’s office. I spin out of my chair, scoop up my box of things, and head for the door.

  “And Lirium…” she says.

  Dread washes through me as I stop, hand poised above the door button.

  “Don’t go back to your apartment. I wouldn’t want you to get swallowed up by the mob, like poor Ophelia. We’ll start fresh with a new place for you. I’ll message you an address. You should have it by the time you’re done paying out.”

  I don’t say anything, just nod, punch the button, and get myself away from her before I do or say something I regret.

  There’s no way I’m going to forget what’s happened today. And I’ll make it to my payout appointment tonight, just like Candy wants. But then I’m going to do something really stupid. Something that, if Candy finds out, will kill any chance I have at medical needs training. And I know I’m going to regret it as soon as the certainty of it settles into my chest.

  I’m going to find Ophelia.

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  The Debt Collector Serial

  EPISODE 3 –Ecstasy

  Available 4.3.13

  Lirium’s attempt to find Ophelia takes him to the last place he wants to be.

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  Susan Kaye Quinn is the author of the bestselling Mindjack Trilogy, which is young adult science fiction. The Debt Collector series is her more grown-up SF.

  Susan grew up in California, got a bu
nch of engineering degrees (B.S. Aerospace Engineering, M.S. Mechanical Engineering, Ph.D. in Environmental Engineering) and worked everywhere from NASA to NCAR (National Center for Atmospheric Research). She designed aircraft engines, studied global warming, and held elected office (as a school board member). Now that she writes novels, her business card says "Author and Rocket Scientist," but she mostly sits around in her pajamas in awe that she gets paid to make stuff up.

  All her engineering skills come in handy when dreaming up dangerous mind powers, future dystopic worlds, and slightly plausible steampunk inventions. For her stories, of course. Just ignore that stuff in the basement.

  Susan writes from the Chicago suburbs with her three boys, two cats, and one husband. Which, it turns out, is exactly as much as she can handle.

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