In the Black (7 page)

“Dead woman.” There was no easy way to say it. “One of my girls.”

Huckness sucked in his breath through coffee-stained teeth. “Shit.”

“Indeed.” Sam spotted a fraction of a tattoo on his bicep peeking out from the black sleeve. “Third Corps?”

He grinned and tugged the fabric up to show the smiling skull. “Retired five years ago with full benefits. Just doing time here until I get enough saved up to go to a colony.” He squinted. “You got one?”

Sam smiled. “Not for public viewing. First Corps.”

“Ground pounder central.” He nodded. “Now that we’ve exchanged secret handshakes, what do you need from me?”

“M.O. already declared and I’ve put in the mandatory calls to the Guild and the Service. But now we’ve got a lot of horny miners sitting in our loading bay waiting to find out if they’re going to get laid or not. And we have to tell them it’s
not.
” She pointed at the other cabins. “I know a few of the women still have customers. I’m going to send them out one by one to join the rest of the crowd but I need you to take statements from them first about what they may or may not have seen or heard. These suites are supposed to be soundproof but something might have gotten through or they might have spotted something on the way in for their appointments.”

He eyed her. “You’re thinking murder.”

She nodded, inwardly cursing their shared military background. He wasn’t going to be put off by the standard babble.

They’d both seen enough death in the field to know the difference between self-termination and murder. Enough soldiers taking their own lives versus a fight gone bad, a grudge carried too far.

“I think so. Supposed to look like suicide, put us off the trail.”

“But you and I know different.” He put up his hand before she could answer. “I get it, you can’t do much until the marshal shows up and the official investigation starts. Got to cover all the bases.” He jabbed a thumb toward the loading bay. “Think one of them’s your man?”

“No idea. But they might have seen or heard something, won’t think it’s important until they get asked.” Sam paused. “And they’re more likely to talk to you than to me. I’ve got no authority beyond this ship and they know it—shop steward’s going to freak out if I try to do it.”

“Got ya.” Huckness scratched behind one ear, fingers rubbing on thin white hairs. “I’ll take statements from the clients still here right now. After that I’ll work my way through the waiting men. I’ll order some food and drink and try to get them to calm down once they figure out they’re not getting laid or going back to their barracks anytime soon.” He inspected his fingers. “They’re not going to hold forever, shift change happening in three hours. Base’s locked down, and that’s going to start affecting us within three days as far as supplies go. Marshal knows this is a priority, right?”

“So they said.”

“Hope the fucker turns and burns his way here. Boys’ll only keep for so long before the foreman starts banging on my door and we all stop playing nice. Keep me informed.” Huckness turned to leave.

Sam hesitated for only a second before speaking. “When this is over let me know if you want your visit rescheduled. We’ll work you into the schedule.”

Huckness gave her a wide grin. “Damn straight. At twenty percent off.” He tossed her a sloppy salute before swimming back to the hatch. “Let me get some gear, check on my guards and I’ll start collecting statements and evicting the last of your clients.”

“Right. Belle, give Chief Huckness full access to the suites and landing bay. Lock down after he enters and exits each room on his command.”

“Affirmative.”

Sam stared at the courtesan’s door for a few minutes, running through a mental checklist. Medical, security, base locked down and everyone notified who had to know.

There was nothing else she could do for Halley other than wait for the marshal to arrive.

“Belle, I’m going back to the cockpit. Keep this door locked—no one gets in unless I approve it. And I mean no one. No marshal, no security chief, nobody.” She grabbed one of the straps and pulled herself down the corridor. “Remind everyone to stay in their quarters until they hear otherwise from me and to fully cooperate with the security chief. Even Jenny. I don’t want her sneaking around working on ship repairs. I know she’s probably got ways of getting around the locks but I can’t have her doing that. Not now, not during this mess.”

“Affirmative.” The neutral tone followed her through the deserted hallway into the galley and into her cockpit.

* * *

An hour later Sam sat on the bridge and listened to the internal base communication chatter, mostly men griping about having their visits to the
Belle
canceled along with random pleas to trade porn for other porn. The rumor mill was in full force with gossip running from one of the customers having a heart attack to the Guild about to announce a sudden hike in prices.

If only.

She reached up and began massaging her temples, feeling the headache threatening to break free. Asking Sean for painkillers would have been an option at any other time but she needed to be on top of her game now and couldn’t afford the chance of being fuzzed up by drugs.

This was bad, and not only because Halley was dead.

This could kill the ship’s reputation. The Guild might have to take the
Belle
out of commission. She’d end up searching for another job or worse, be stuck on Earth while the Guild waited for a slot to come open for another captain because they didn’t want to cancel her contract.

Her conscience barked in her ear, reminding her that a woman had died under her watch. She flashed back to the Hub, to the orders that’d sent her and her men to Hell. They’d only been doing their job, just like Halley. And once again, Sam was stuck picking up the pieces.

She bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. No time to dip into that memory pool. She needed to stay on top of this. A marshal had been routed from his vacation break to deal with the murder, according to the one-line reply she’d gotten from the Service.

Pulled off his vacation time. Whoever this guy was, he was going to be in a fine mood when he arrived, probably ready to slap irons on anyone who looked at him sideways so that he could close the case and get back to his wife or mistress.

Justice would be a priority but not if it took too long.

Everyone would want this solved quickly to get the ship open for business again. Time was money and they had only two weeks before the
Belle
left for the next slot on the list. The Guild would want justice but they also wanted a profit.

It was her job to try to give them both.

Except right now she was giving them a dead courtesan and a base on edge, ready to explode given the right trigger.

“I can do this,” she mumbled to herself. “I can handle this.”

She took a deep breath. One, two, three.

“Captain?” Belle asked. “Kendra would like to talk to you. May I put her through?”

Now it started.

She glanced down at the screen showing the outside tube connecting the
Belle
to the base. A few hours ago it had shown a long line of men waiting to get into the landing bay and onto the
Belle
. Now it was empty. The small security detail usually at the hatch was gone, probably reassigned to elsewhere on the base or now inside the
Belle
, keeping order with the interned miners.

“Captain?”

“Put her through, Belle. Thanks.”

A flick of her finger brought up the visual link to Kendra’s quarters on a second monitor. The image took a second to resolve. Kendra wasn’t wearing any makeup and her eyes were red.

“I’m here. What can I do for you?” Sam said.

“I know about Halley,” Kendra answered. “Can I help in any way?”

Sam rubbed her chin. She wasn’t stupid enough to think the courtesans didn’t have their own way of communicating outside of the
Belle’s
system.

Kendra tilted her head to one side. “The security chief helped to remove my client. He was less than amused at having his visit cut short.”

“Sorry ’bout that.”

Kendra smiled. “Don’t be. He wasn’t as interesting as he could have been. I approved a full refund through Belle. Hopefully the others will be as kind with their customers. Good reputations are important in this business.”

“Thank you for handling it so well.” Sam noticed Kendra didn’t ask for any details on Halley’s murder.

“Given the situation, I chose the path of least resistance. Better to lose a few credits than start a fight.”

Sam’s gaze went to the monitor. “We’ve got a lot of pissed-off men.”

Kendra rolled her shoulders. “They’ll survive. Last time I checked, you couldn’t die from not having sex. So what are we waiting for?”

“The marshal’s on his way, so we’re sort of in neutral until then. Sean took April back to her quarters. He said she should sleep for a bit. If you want to help I’d appreciate it if you could keep an ear open in case she gets upset again.” Sam paused, trying to find the right words. “She might be emotionally unstable.”

April had found one of her companions with a slit throat. There was nothing Sam could say or medication Sean could give to ease that image from the courtesan’s memory.

Sam knew the power of memories.

Kendra nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. “I hear you. She’s not that far away. I’ll keep an ear open and call you if we need help.” She paused to chew on her lower lip. “Hold the course, Captain. It’ll all work out in the end.”

The monitor went dark.

Sam sat back, rubbing her eyes with the palms of her hands.

If we need help.
As in, you keep up there on the bridge and keep the business end going.

The sad thing was Kendra was right. Sam had no doubt that behind the weeping and sobbing in the cabins there was at least one courtesan looking forward to getting Halley’s customers when the ban was lifted and the money began flowing again. This was a cutthroat business at the best of times, and a whole new block of customers had come free for the taking.

A low beep came out of the speaker, signaling a base communication. She tapped the button again.

“What the fuck are you doing with my men?” Trainer snarled. The jovial miner who’d introduced her earlier was gone.

“Doing my job. As you’re doing yours, I assume.” She leaned forward. “Keeping things cool until the marshal arrives.”

Trainer let out a growl. “You’ve got Huckness taking statements from my men. They’re locked in the landing bay like criminals.”

“One of them might well be. I have a dead woman and no one standing around wearing a sign saying ‘I did it.’” Sam jerked a thumb toward the wall. “I’ve got every right to keep your men sequestered until the marshal arrives. Unless you want to bust them out and I’ll have to call the Guild and demand a boycott.”

“But that’s no reason to...” he started, not taking in what she’d just said. “Boycott?” His voice rose.

Sam nodded. “Boycott. As per the Guild rules if there’s a problem with a particular base, a standing danger to any Guild ships. You want to explain to your men about how they’re not going to get any Mercy or Charity visits ever again?”

The momentary panic on Trainer’s face lasted for a second before his official foreman mask slipped back on. “You got proof one of my men is involved? We got rights, you know. You can’t keep them all locked up without arresting someone. I put a call in to Swendson and you’re going to get the union on your back, you’re going to have to answer to them and the Guild if they launch a complaint about—”

She cut him off. “Your security chief disagreed. Huckness and I had a nice chat.”

Trainer’s upper lip twitched. “Aren’t you tight with the chief.”

“Yep.” Sam smiled. “He agreed we need to keep everyone who was on the ship apart from the rest of the crew until the marshal arrives and we figure this all out. He’s taking statements from each one as we speak.”

“But you can’t keep my men there for hours and hours,” Trainer protested. “It’s kidnapping, right?”

“Could be. I’m no lawyer.” Sam glanced to one side, pretending to be reading something. “Feel free to call the Guild and ask what their position is on this. I’m sure they’d be glad to talk to you about the death of one of their courtesans, likely by one of your men.”

A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“But that’s not going to happen because you’ve already agreed to allow the security chief to do his job.” Sam saw Trainer’s expression shift as she continued. “So I’ll be reporting to the Guild that you cooperated fully and willingly with the marshal and me. And that you’ve cleared this with Swendson as a show of unity between union and management looking for justice to be served.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” The foreman let out a relieved sigh. “When can I get my men back?”

“As soon as the marshal says it’s okay. I don’t know how long it’ll take but I’m sure we can make your fellows as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. We’ll process them as quickly as possible.”

Trainer nodded. “Please call me with an update at your convenience. Until later, Captain.”

The screen flickered back to the empty corridor.

She didn’t want to think about how long it’d take for the marshal to arrive. A shipload of sexually frustrated men with a dead courtesan floating in her cabin and five less-than-enthusiastic courtesans losing money with every hour spelled trouble in her book.

If she was lucky they’d be able to at least question the men and get some of them cleared before trouble started—the mob was a powder keg ready to go off. It would only take one accusation of cheating at cards or one insinuation about someone’s sexual prowess. Trainer was ready to start screaming to his superiors about meeting his quotas and she knew he’d blame it on her and the
Bonnie Belle
if it kept him out of trouble.

Death was death but business reigned supreme.

Belle startled her out of her silence, the melodic voice coming out of one of the many hidden speakers. “Sam, there’s a group of men at the front door. They’re claiming that they’ve got appointments and want their agreements fulfilled. They seem rather upset.”