Authors: Sheryl Nantus
“Why did you go see her for lunch?” Now that he’d gotten past the façade, Daniel felt the truth in her words.
“Bitch borrowed one of my scarves last week for a new portfolio picture. Forgot to give it back and I needed it. Future appointment had some specific requests and the scarf was part of it.”
“You’re kidding.” He looked around the room. “You didn’t have something else you could use?”
The courtesan laughed. “Leather and lace aren’t interchangeable, Marshal. And good preparation is important for a satisfying experience.”
Daniel swallowed hard, wondering if Sam liked leather or lace. Or nothing at all.
“So I went to get my scarf back. And have a companion to eat lunch with.” April smiled. “We might fight a lot but we’re all in this game together. I might get pissed off at the bitch but I didn’t feel like taking a break alone.” A shadow fell across her face. “We spend a lot of time alone, Marshal. If I can have company, even hers, it’s nice.”
Daniel nodded. “Marshals spend a lot of time in transit with no one other than the ship’s AI.” He patted the black box. “I understand what you’re saying.” He cleared his throat. “So you walked in and found her in the back room then—”
“I screamed.” She covered her mouth and giggled. “I can guess what you’re thinking. How could Belle tell the difference between a scream of pleasure and a shriek of danger and set off the alarm? Especially when these quarters are supposed to be outside of the AI’s monitoring systems?”
He cocked his head to one side and waited.
“Belle doesn’t watch or listen inside the private quarters but we each have a code word we can say that sets off the
Belle’s
emergency systems. I won’t tell you what I said but it was enough to activate the alarm.” She looked at the bottom of her teacup. “The Guild protects both the client and the courtesan that way.”
“Understood.” Daniel didn’t press her for more details. He knew they wouldn’t be forthcoming.
April picked at an imaginary loose thread on her sleeve. “I didn’t like Halley but I wouldn’t have wished her ill.”
“Most people don’t wish anything. Until there’s a dead body in front of them and then they wish for something else.”
“Marshal.” She got to her feet and reached over to pluck the half-empty cup from his fingers. “I might be a good candidate for killing Halley but I have clients who will swear I was with them for the time period immediately preceding her death and that I was calm and collected. Hardly the type to go into a wild killing rage.”
“Clients who would say anything for you.” It wasn’t meant as an accusation, just a simple statement.
He got to his feet. Whether he wanted it or not, the interview was over.
She’d handled him like one of her clients.
“Clients who understand truth.” She led him to the door and tapped the button. “I do hope you enjoyed the tea.” A sly smile tripped across her lips. “And if you ever need your ass paddled I hope you’ll consider me.”
The door slid shut behind him.
He shook his head. These weren’t rookies on their first trips out. These were seasoned, intelligent women and men who knew the score. They were also accomplished liars who knew how to hide their feelings.
He couldn’t also see any of them killing Halley Comet.
Across from Kendra’s rooms were Bianca Montgomery’s quarters. Halley’s lover and definitely a possible suspect in her murder.
Daniel floated across the corridor and rapped on the door.
From the frying pan into the fire, as it were.
The door slid open just enough to show her face. She was young enough that she should have been hitting nightclubs and gossiping with her peers, not selling her services aboard a Mercy ship. He wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but there were some aspects of the job that he didn’t care much for.
“Marshal.” Bloodshot eyes and streaked mascara failed to detract from her natural beauty. “I’m sorry but I really don’t want to talk to you right now.”
“I understand.” He stuck his mag-boot into the doorway. “I’m sure there’s never a good time to discuss this, but...”
He wasn’t going to let her get away. She’d had enough time to deal with the reality and now it was time to get down to work.
She sniffled, then stepped back, letting the door finish the opening sequence.
Daniel hesitated. “Can you turn on the lights, please?”
“Sure.” She reached to one side and tapped what he assumed to be the light switch.
The small room looked like a paint store had exploded. Brilliant splashes of vibrant reds and oranges filled one wall while the other wore light blue scratches and lime green polka dots.
Daniel blinked. The large padded chairs reminded him of a mutated beanbag chair. He settled into one as Bianca, wearing a pair of black shorts and black T-shirt, dropped into the chair opposite him. There were no tables, no offer of refreshments.
He unclipped Etts from his belt. “Do you mind if we tape this?”
She shrugged, a listless motion. Her gaze went down to her feet, studying her slippers.
Daniel placed the computer on the ground by his boots.
“I’m sorry for your loss.” He decided to cut to the chase, seeing her emotional state. At any second she could break down and he’d get nothing from her. “You and Halley were more than just friends, correct?”
She jumped a bit at the statement. “Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”
He didn’t reply to her question. “You were lovers.” He kept his voice intentionally neutral. “It’s not uncommon on Mercy ships. It’s also not illegal according to Guild rules.”
Bianca sniffled and nodded. “Yes. Yes we were.”
Daniel put on his best understanding smile. “It’s got to be tough having a relationship under these circumstances.”
The petite woman gave a feeble nod. “We had our good times and our bad times, sure. Like everyone.” Her face scrunched up again, on the verge of tears. “And now I can’t ever apologize to her again.” She drew shallow breaths. “Ever.”
He waited for a minute to allow her to compose herself. There was nothing to be gained by rushing things.
Bianca let out a deep sigh and cleared her throat.
He took it as a sign to get the conversation moving again.
“You said you had disagreements. Did you fight recently?”
“Yeah. Not too long ago, it was—” She cleared her throat. “It was stupid. She wanted to change rooms, get us next to each other. Cut out a door, make it easier to visit without everyone knowing. Sure, we wouldn’t be able to trade rooms anymore, but I didn’t think anyone would give a shit.” Bianca jabbed a finger at the wall. “When the captain said no Halley wanted to call the Guild, get hold of Grendel and file a complaint. I told her to not get all pissy over it, we’d still be able to visit. You have to pick and choose your fights and I didn’t think that was one we could win.” Her upper lip curled. “Bitch captain.”
“I hear you.” Daniel nodded, encouraging her to keep talking. “Did you know anyone who would want to harm Halley, anyone who had a grudge against her or who she worried about?”
Bianca rubbed her face on her sleeve. “Kendra. Sam. Sean. That mechanic bitch. Dane.”
Almost the entire crew of the
Belle,
in other words. Great.
“Let’s take them one at a time. Why Kendra?” Daniel crossed his legs and put on his understanding cop face.
“Kendra, she doesn’t like that Halley was getting more appointments than she was. She, Halley I mean, she knew the men liked having a young woman tell them how to make money. They’d want to see her ’cause she had a nice voice and a nice way of saying anything, everything. You listened to her, you not only made money but you got a voice massage. Kendra doesn’t like women who are prettier than she is, that’s all.” Bianca scrunched her face up, reminding him of a pug. “She’s not very nice.”
“Hmm,” Daniel replied. He didn’t need a lie detector to tell him Bianca’s statement was full of crap. “And what did Halley think of this? Did she file any complaints with the Guild?”
Bianca glared at him. “What good would that have done? Kendra’s the old broad on the ship. She’s got the Guild by the short hairs.” One hand dragged through her shoulder-length brown hair. “Fuck, they’re all fixed. All the ships, they’ve all got their spies watching and keeping us in line.”
Daniel looked up at the giant orange Chinese lanterns hanging over them.
“Dane Morris.”
Bianca snorted. “Fucking punk kid. Always trying to give himself a bigger cut of the pie. He’s gotten implants, you know.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Everywhere.”
Daniel’s brain screamed at those mental images.
“Did Halley like him? Hate him?”
The courtesan shrugged. “I don’t remember her saying too much. Other than he kept trying to scam financial advice for free ’cause he wanted to buy out his contract ahead of time. He also kept trying to convince her clients to switch sides, offering discounts for first-timers willing to give him a try. Always looking for a way to get more customers and make more money, legal or not.” She licked her lips. “Most of the time he ended up losing clients to her when they figured out he wasn’t a smooth drive. They’d pay double just to wash out the taste of that jackhole from their mouths.”
Daniel needed a case of bleach for his brain. “Okay, let’s move on. Why would she have a beef with Sean Harrison? They’re not competing for the same clients, as far as I can see.”
“Goddamn quack,” Bianca spat out. “Gives you a hard time before giving you a pain reliever. He talked Grendel into making him the
Belle’s
medic because he doesn’t want to work and still get paid a supplement. Half the time his appointment book’s empty ’cause no one wants to screw around with an old man.” She paused, surveying Daniel’s face. “Not that old men aren’t cute in their own way.”
He resisted the urge to list off the names of women who would disagree with her opinion and vouch for the skills of older men.
“So what would Sean have against Halley?” With a crew of six courtesans plus Sam and Jenny it seemed unlikely that almost half the crew had a beef with the dead woman.
“Sean asked Halley for stock market tips, same as Dane, and she told him no, not without paying. She’s not going to give her expertise away.” Bianca swiped at her cheek. “He got all pissy about it, said they were supposed to be working together for the Guild, all that bullshit.”
“Did he threaten her?”
One finely manicured hand waved him off. “Nah. He’s all talk and hot air. Probably can’t get it up without his drugs anyway.”
“And Sam? The captain?” Daniel caught the anger in his voice and hoped she hadn’t.
“That crazy bitch? First thing she tells Halley when she takes over is to behave herself and not be trouble. Gets all pissy ’cause we’re together and not willing to share.” She let out an angry huff. “Damned captain and damned prima donnas thinking they were better than she was.”
Daniel settled down in his chair. This was going to be a long, long whinefest.
* * *
Back up on the bridge Sam wondered, not for the first time, if she was caught in a black hole that dragged out time. The past few hours had felt like three days as she jousted with the invisible Guild representative.
She’d gone over every moment from the
Belle’s
initial contact with Branson Prime to the presentation to the breakfast to finding Halley’s body.
Three times.
Then there was the detailing of the reaction of the other courtesans and Jenny, her impression of the marshal, Huckness and Trainer. Every person she’d had contact with who was involved with the case.
She doubted Daniel was going to get a copy of her statement.
Grendel’s voice was dry and flat. “If your killer isn’t found quickly clients will think they can attack and kill our members with impunity. I don’t need to remind you of Guild history in that area.”
Sam stared at the control panel, glad she’d kept the Guild representative on audio only so he couldn’t see her face and vice versa. Not that it made much of a difference. Even when he’d come on screen he’d worn one of his many masks, staying anonymous with a one-name persona.
That’s how the Guild worked. Secrecy assured to the bitter end.
“I know about the Purge.” She said the word, imagining Grendel wincing at the other end of the line. It was one of those things you weren’t supposed to say out loud. “You’re also assuming it’s not one of the other courtesans.”
The icy reply slapped her across the face. “Do I have to remind you of the psychological profiles we require of every worker?”
They accepted me without question.
If they’d asked the military for my most recent therapy session...
“I know you’re very careful with your members.” Sam chose each word as if she were handling a live grenade. “I’m suggesting it’s possible one had a psychotic break, perhaps. Went a bit mad.”
“Oh. Now you’re a psychologist.”
She flipped him the bird as she kept speaking, glad again he couldn’t see her. “I’m keeping an open mind. That’s what you pay me for, isn’t it?”
“We pay you to secure the safety of your crew and you’ve failed at that already,” Grendel snapped.
She visualized strangling the invisible man, her fingers tightening on the armrests. “We’ve done the best we could with what we had. We’ve kept the situation as quiet as possible. Word is going to get out eventually with the men gossiping, but I’ve spoken with the security chief and the foreman and they’ve instituted a communication blackout along with a freeze on personnel transfers in and out for the duration of the investigation in addition to the lockdown. No one’s getting off this rock until the killer’s found, and we’re controlling what’s going out. Branson Prime has as much to lose as we do with this incident. They don’t want to risk being blacklisted.” She focused on her breathing to try to tamp down her anger. “I’m also in constant contact with the marshal. He seems well qualified to figure this out and I’m sure we’ll have some sort of resolution soon enough.”
Grendel snorted. “Daniel LeClair.”
“You’ve heard of him?” Sam tried not to sound too interested.