In the Black (29 page)

“I did my job. Dane Morris is going to stand trial for killing Halley Comet.” Sam drew on the bottle again, relishing the cool water on her dry throat. “We’ll need two replacements. Let me know where and when to pick them up. I’ll have Jenny clean out the cabins and prepare for the new arrivals.” She was surprised how calm she sounded, given recent events. “We’re also open again and playing catch-up. It should work out okay.”

Sam knew she was tooting hot air and knew Grendel knew it. There was no way they’d break even on this trip after losing two members.

“Well done, Captain. I assume we don’t need to refer to your confidentiality clause to keep you from discussing Morris’s actions outside of with official Guild personnel.”

Translation—shut up about Dane killing Halley and let the Guild spin it any which way they could.

She faltered, not sure how to answer.

Grendel picked up on it. “I understand how you feel. But trust me, we need to keep this an internal matter as much as possible. It’s for the best.”

Sam closed her eyes, hearing a mocking laugh at the back of her mind. “Of course.”

“Thank you for your service. We’ll talk later about the replacements after I discuss it with the assignment department. Have a good shift, Captain.” The link went dead before she could respond.

Her skin itched from the sweaty T-shirt. The damned warm cloth wasn’t going to do it.

She stared longingly at the shower stall. If she tapped into her savings—

“I have Marshal LeClair on the line.” Belle sounded jovial. “Shall I put him through?”

“Sure.” A shiver went up her spine in anticipation.

“Sam.” The one word chased away the frigid atmosphere Grendel had left behind. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Just got off the horn with Grendel. He seems pretty happy with the results.”

Daniel snorted. “I don’t trust that bastard an inch. Don’t know how you work with him.”

“I don’t. I stay on the ship.” She grunted as she tried to reach back between her shoulder blades to a particularly itchy spot.

“You okay? Are you in pain?” The concern in his voice had him talking quickly. “Do you need Danforth? I can call him or if you’d prefer, Sean.”

“No, no.” She dragged her short nails across the offending spot, hard enough to kill the itch. “Just a sore throat. And I’m dying for a shower.”

“I have a shower on my ship,” Daniel said. “Available in full gravity.”

Sam’s pulse shot up into triple digits.

“I have no problem extending that courtesy to a fellow captain,” he intoned as if he were offering a cookie. “Etts, please allow Captain Keller access to the ship.”

Etts beeped as much of a sly giggle as the AI could manage.

“Thank you.” Sam ignored her libido jumping up and down in the back of her mind. “I’ll be over when I can. Have to make sure the
Belle’s
okay and all that.”

“I’ll be on the base for the next few hours so you’ll have plenty of privacy. Got paperwork to file with Huckness and I want to make sure Morris is secure during the transfer onto the prison ship,” Daniel drawled. “Help yourself to whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” she repeated. “See you later.”

The link went quiet.

She drew a deep, shuddering breath, feeling like a rookie about to go into her first firefight. “Belle, give me an update.”

* * *

Inside the
Razor’s Edge
, Daniel scrawled his signature on the clipboard. “Etts, make sure that’s transmitted straight to Commander Harris and no one else. His eyes only, top priority.” He turned around in the narrow cockpit and stared out the window at the workers scurrying back and forth on the landing platforms.

Branson Prime was up to full speed, the interruptions from Comet’s murder now only a blip on the production chart. The company would be happy, the miners would be happy and the Guild might be pissed but happy that the
Belle
was back open for business and filling their coffers with credits.

Huckness had called a few minutes earlier to say the transport was landing within the hour. He’d already assembled the security team to escort Morris and spoken to the captain of the transport who’d assured the chief that Morris would be in one of their high-priority cells and kept isolated from the other prisoners.

Everyone might hate Morris but no one was going to let anything happen on their watch.

Daniel got up out of the chair and headed for the cockpit door. He liked the security chief but in the end it was Daniel’s responsibility to get Morris to the transport and to the Justice base for his trial and conviction.

Trainer hadn’t called or communicated with him since their little “meeting.”

Daniel didn’t miss him a bit.

He’d written two reports, one detailing the harassment from the Guild and their proxy, Trainer, and a sanitized version—the official report filed with the Service. The brutally honest one had gone to Kyle as a private memo, noting the problems he’d faced and his opinions on the attitude of the Guild and their representatives, official and unofficial.

Kyle was a good man and a good commander but Daniel knew it’d probably come to nothing. The Guild had long tentacles out here, twisting and digging into each and every aspect of life, and they wouldn’t be caught by a single marshal expressing his concern over the way things had gone. But it was on file with Kyle and that had to be enough for now.

As long as Dane Morris went to jail for a good long time for the murder and the assault on Sam, he’d be content.

Etts sent out a series of anxious beeps and trills.

“Tell Huckness I’m on my way.” Daniel looked around the small room. “Don’t forget that Sam’s got full access to the ship.”

The AI gave off a bawdy-sounding whistle.

“Shut up.”

* * *

The walk to the brig seemed to take forever, the miners’ curious stares following him every inch of the way. Morris’s kidnapping attempt and murder confession had sent the gossip chain into overdrive. Add in the stories of the courtesans defending Sam and Bianca’s attack on the unconscious killer and the grapevine was bursting wide open, spreading like wildfire. Rumors of who had done what to Morris and rumblings about the courtesans had pushed the murder itself aside as people reviewed portfolios and created their own scenarios.

He was almost a footnote in his own investigation.

It didn’t bother him a bit.

Huckness nodded as Daniel entered the security office. “I cut Kowalski loose a few hours ago. Forgot to tell you.” He smiled. “Guy’s got a lot of crap to deal with and it isn’t going to be easy to clean up. Swendson dragged him out of here and he didn’t look too happy.”

Daniel perched on the side of the wooden desk. “No problem there. As far as I’m concerned this is all internal business.”

“Trainer’s on a rampage to find out who on Kowalski’s shift helped him hide the arthritis for so long. Threatening to dock the entire squad’s pay until someone fesses up.” Huckness grinned. “Guess he’s got to get his anger out at someone and I’m too big to bully.”

Daniel returned the smile. “Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” He looked at the monitor. It showed the security holding cell and the murderer sitting on his bunk, rocking back and forth. “Morris ready to go?”

The chief nodded. “No attempted visitors, not even Trainer. I’ve got my best four men gearing up to take him over.”

Daniel frowned. “‘Gearing up’?”

“Full riot gear. I don’t want anyone taking this asshole out before he gets to the transport. No blood on my hands.” Huckness stood up from the desk. “People are pissed off. Morris not only killed a Mercy woman but tried to set Kowalski up for it.” One edge of his mouth twitched upward. “There might be a bit of rage directed at the asshole on the way out.”

“Totally your call. You know the base personnel better than I do.” He sure didn’t feel like escorting Morris alone to the ship through a gauntlet of angry men waiting for their chance to administer some vigilante justice.

“The faster we get rid of him the better.” Huckness scratched his chin. “Faster I get to my appointment.”

“Kendra?” Daniel asked.

The chief’s cheeks went scarlet. “How did you guess?”

Daniel chuckled. “She had her eye on you from the minute you walked into the hallway, Chief. Woman like that isn’t going to let you go easy.”

Huckness nodded. “As long as I get that discount. I’ve earned it this time.”

“That you have.” Daniel watched Morris in the cell. “That you have.”

Chapter Thirteen

The transfer went by the book, Morris saying nothing as the small group marched him to the Service transport. The ex-courtesan didn’t look at Daniel as he shuffled along wearing a bright orange jumpsuit, dragging his feet. He wore both leg and arm shackles. Huckness had taken Morris’s skills into account when setting up the transfer and Daniel felt a bit safer seeing Morris grumble and whine as he tried to walk.

The captain of the prison transport stood at the top of the ramp. He didn’t look at Morris, his attention focused on the clipboard in his hands.

“Dane Morris. Murder, assault. Here.” He shoved the board at Daniel. “You sign at the bottom and then the chief.” The overweight middle-aged man gave the armed guards a sideways glance as they shuffled up the ramp around Morris. “Should I expect trouble with this one?”

“I wouldn’t turn my back on him.” Daniel scribbled his name and handed the board to Huckness. “He’s charged with murdering a Mercy woman. And assault on the ship’s captain.” He tried not to snarl at the transport captain. “Be careful. He doesn’t need a weapon to be dangerous.”

“Yeah, I read the report.” The captain watched Huckness sign. He took the clipboard back and tore multi-colored copies off the bottom before handing them to both men. “We’ve dealt with his type before. Don’t worry, we’ll get him to court safe and sound.” He tapped the clipboard with his index finger. “I’ve never lost one in five years and I don’t plan to.”

Daniel looked at the diminishing figure as Morris shambled farther into the ship, accompanied by the security team. “Good.”

Huckness let out a low whistle as they watched the transport rise from the floor and back out of the hangar, the bricklike ship moving at a snail’s pace. He dismissed the squad with a wave of his hand and they watched the men shuffle away, peeling off their riot gear. “Glad that’s done.”

Daniel allowed himself a sigh of relief. “Thanks for your help on this one. Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.”

“Damned right.” Huckness smiled. “Now go relax and spend some time with that captain of yours. Me, I got a date with a sweet woman who knows how to treat an old man right.”

Daniel watched the transport nudge out into open space, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. “Not a bad idea, Chief. Not a bad idea.”

* * *

Etts had issued a welcoming tone when she approached the Edge’s hatch, opening it before she could ask. She might not have the implant to understand the AI’s language but she could understand a cheerful computer beep.

Sam entered gingerly, her mag-boots keeping her feet on the ground.

She’d never been inside a Service ship. The opportunity had never presented itself and she suspected few ever got on board other than to visit the brig, locked up until the ship got to a Justice base.

It reminded her of a silver teardrop, the sleek lines giving it speed without much luxury. The entry hatch led her to the mini version of the
Belle’s
landing bay, providing a buffer zone between the coldness outside and the warmth inside.

Etts opened the secondary hatch with a quiet beep.

The galley was a miniaturized version of the one she’d left on the
Belle
, the kitchenette and single table barely large enough for one person.

It was amazing that Daniel survived being locked up in such a small space for days, weeks on end. Patrolling the commercial and private transport lanes for weeks would take a lot of out a man who didn’t know how to deal with being alone.

She wondered if he had any books or videos to trade. Especially mystery novels.

The door opened to admit her to the cockpit. The marshal’s quarters sat off to the right—the same sort of setup as she had back on the
Belle
. She scanned the controls quickly, an automatic check to make sure the ship was secure, and turned toward the next hatch.

Etts gave off a gentle warning chime as the door swung inward. She felt the tug of gravity as she moved one foot over the threshold.

Daniel’s personal quarters were larger than her own, the hammock strung across one corner of the room for zero-g sleep. The wall panels, if they were like her own, held lockers filled with clothing and other items.

The shower stall sat in the corner, waiting.

He’d put out clean towels for her, sitting on a wooden stool in the corner.

She picked up one of the white fluffy squares and put it to her face. It was lush and clean and smelled of flowers, a definite improvement over the dingy green towel she had back on the
Belle
that had seen too many laundry cycles.

“Thank you, Etts.” She was rewarded with a cheerful chirp.

It took no time to shuck her boots, strip out of her olive-green jumpsuit and place it neatly on the single chair.

She hadn’t bothered with any underwear.

The earpiece went on top of the pile.

“Etts, I’ve told Belle to contact you if there’s any problem. Please feed her through the speakers.”

The AI gave a positive-sounding beep.

She looked around the cabin, prolonging the anticipation of the hot water running over her bare skin.

A handful of pictures dotted the walls, some taped to the panels with yellowing, dry tape while others sat in old wooden frames. Daniel as a teenager sitting on a horse with another rider next to him, likely his father based on the resemblance. Daniel standing with a small group of lawmen, all showing off their sparkling new badges as they graduated from the UNS Academy.

Daniel accepting an award from some UNS higher-up, the official’s dress uniform dotted with ribbons. She squinted but was unable to make out the details on the medal. Judging from the high-ranking fellow handing it over, it had to be something better than a Good Conduct.

She’d considered dumping her medals down the disposal chutes more than once but hadn’t been able to bring herself to do it.

Yet.

She turned back to the shower and flipped on the hot water. She stepped in, relishing the sensation of being wet all over at the same time. This wasn’t something she could duplicate with a wet wipe or floating globs of water.

Steam trickled around her bare toes as she adjusted the temperature, not wanting to be boiled alive. A hot shower was one thing, scalding her skin was another.

An unopened bottle of liquid soap sat on the shelf along with a white washcloth, waiting for her attention. Sam flipped the cap open and drizzled some into her hand before bringing it to her nose.

It smelt like—

She suppressed a shudder. It smelt like Daniel.

The hot water pounded on her aching shoulders, pulling out the tension that had been gathering there for so long. The old scars ached but in a good, clean way.

It’d been a long time since she didn’t have to worry about the timer ticking away in her ear, the countdown causing her to race through a shower.

This—this was luxury.

Sam stood under the intense blast of hot water, every inch of her skin in ecstasy. She tilted her head back and let the heat seep into her skin. Dane’s grip hadn’t left bruises, surprising enough, but her throat was still sore. The hot steam helped clear her sinuses as she gingerly poked at her still-swollen nose. It took a few seconds to clean away the dried blood but she felt better almost instantly.

She spun around and around under the heated spray, pirouetting as she reapplied the soap over and over before washing it off.

A puff of cold air slapped her bare back.

She froze, suds running off her skin.

The fact that Etts hadn’t screamed in alarm meant only one other person could have opened the stall door and now stood there watching her.

She waited.

The low voice brought goose bumps to her exposed skin. “Captain. Glad to see you took advantage of my offer.”

“Marshal.” She didn’t turn toward the open stall door. “Thank you for making it.”

“You’ll be glad to know that the transport left without incident.” He didn’t say the name; he didn’t have to. He wasn’t going to taint this moment with that name.

She was grateful for that.

“That’s good. Hope they fry the bastard.” Sam reached for the washcloth and poured a good amount of liquid soap on it. She could see him out of the corner of her eye, watching her through the semi-clear glass.

She didn’t have the urge to hide her scars. There weren’t many and they’d whitened and faded over time, but some of her lovers had cringed at seeing them.

They hadn’t lasted long. In every sense of the word.

Daniel chuckled. “We’ll see.” He walked back and forth in front of the shower, a slow, leisurely pace. “You found everything okay?”

“Yes, thank you.” She looked at him through the door, her heart pounding like it was her first combat drop all over again.

Time to put up or shut up. He’d be leaving soon and she needed to get him out of her system.

“Could I impose on you to wash my back? I can’t quite reach back there.” She rolled her shoulders.

He grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.” He took a step forward, then stopped. “One minute. No use getting my uniform wet.”

Daniel slid off his jacket and tossed it over her pile of clothing. He tugged his T-shirt out of the top of his jeans and pulled it upward, annoyingly slowly.

She forgot about the hot water running down her face.

Somewhere on this small ship there had to be a full gym. There was no way those toned abs came from sitting in a cockpit chair for hours on end.

No fricking way.

The wide grin told her he knew darned well the effect he was having on her.

She swallowed, seeing his scars. Her eyes traveled over the angry gashes, some faded with time and some more recent.

Daniel looked down at himself. “I’ve gone a few rounds.” He winked and pulled the stall door open. “Back?”

She handed him the soapy cloth and turned away from him, her pulse racing.

A delicious shiver of anticipation shot through Sam’s spine, a moan escaping at the first touch of his hand. In the back of her mind she frowned. She shouldn’t be this affected just from his touch. This wasn’t anything more than a convenience, two people seeking to scratch an itch together and move on.

There was nothing more to it.

Was there?

He didn’t step into the shower but reached in to draw large soaped circles on her back with the washcloth. “Where did you get this from?” He stopped on one nasty gash on her right hip.

“Antilles Six. Idiot kid decided to see how fast he could land the shuttle. Damned fleet jockeys.” She sighed as his hand moved toward another white line, pushing her heartbeat into triple digits. “You know the routine. Get the first aid kit, patch up and keep going.”

Daniel chuckled. “You know it.” His hand moved down her spine, hovering at the sweet indentation before going back up.

She arched into his touch with a mixture of a sigh and a purr escaping her lips. “Lord. Been a long time since I got that.”

He didn’t ask what “that” was.

She didn’t offer.

Daniel pulled back and placed the cloth on the narrow shelf.

“What?” She spun to face him, her eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”

“Let me get more comfortable.” He yanked at his jeans.

Sam turned back and arched her back under the heated spray, punishing herself by not watching him strip down.

A minute later and he stepped in behind her.

“Feeling dirty?” Sam joked, her throat suddenly dry.

“Figured I’d give you a hand.” Daniel spread some of the liquid soap on his hand and lathered up. “Feel free to return the favor.”

He reached around to fondle one breast, his other hand holding her hip. She moaned and leaned back to rest her head on his shoulder.

“You’re still too wound up,” he whispered into her ear. “I want this to last a good long time, so let’s take the edge off first.” His hand slipped down past her navel and between her legs.

She gasped, suddenly unable to stand straight. Daniel nudged her legs apart with his knee, supporting her with his body.

“Trust me, Sam.” His slick fingers danced between her folds. “Let go. I’ll catch you.”

He slid his arm around her waist, holding her in place as he increased his motions.

She whimpered as her head rocked back against him, her hips thrusting against him.

“Let go,” he demanded.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Her body was betraying her, reacting to his touch with pent-up lust and need, bucking against him instinctively. He unerringly sought out her most sensitive spots and teased them, pushed them beyond anything she could have done for herself.

“Let go,” Daniel repeated. His teeth latched onto her earlobe and tugged. Hard.

Sam shattered into a thousand jagged shards, her vision whiting out as she pressed back against him before going limp.

He caught her, gripping her waist tight as she recovered. The hot water pounded down on her face, washing away any trace of his touch.

“There,” Daniel announced. “That’ll take the edge off.” He nipped at one earlobe. “Let me know when you—” He broke off as she spun around to face him.

She reached down and took hold of him with one hand, reaching for the bottle of liquid soap with the other.

His eyes widened as she flipped the lid off the bottle with her thumb and poured a generous dollop down between them, landing exactly where she wanted it to.

She heard a whimper.

Two can play at this game.

Her initial stroke had him up on his toes, gasping as she drew him toward her. He rocked back as she drew down to his balls and then forward again, relishing the gasps and sighs.

Daniel closed his eyes tight and let out a hissing noise. “Sam—”

“Just returning the favor,” she murmured, feeling herself responding to his arousal. Whatever there was between the two of them was electric, bringing her back to the edge simply by watching his reaction.

His hips bucked toward her and for a second she thought he was about to come in her hand, the slickness making it hard to keep hold.

“No,” Daniel growled through clenched teeth. “Not alone.”

He grabbed her by the hips and pushed her against the wall before lifting her up. Before she could respond or react he plunged into her, burying himself inside.