To Snatch a Thief

CHAPTER TWENTY



An hour later Skye was still shaken. She’d been trying not to look in Hunter’s direction, but it was hard. For the last five minutes he’d had his head down, talking to someone on his communicator. She risked another glance.

He wasn’t talking anymore.

In a startling red trouser suit, Narelle Keating waltzed, unannounced, into his office, holding out a slim hand as Hunter pushed up from the table. She only seemed amused when he didn’t respond.

Before the door swung shut Skye heard her rich, deep voice. ‘Don’t look so grouchy, darling. Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me.’

Skye snagged Corporal Smith as he passed her cubicle. ‘You know who that woman is with the lieutenant, right?’

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he glanced over. His eyes widened. ‘Blimey. Wonder what she wants?’

Curiosity won over caution. ‘I’m going to find out. Want a coffee?’

His pretty face broke into a grin. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Skye took her time at the machine, dropping coins in slowly. Careful not to raise her head too often, she strained her ears to listen to their muffled conversation.

‘What are you doing here, Narelle, I’m busy?’

Even though he stayed standing, Narelle sat, crossed her legs and casually flicked the back of her hand across her thigh. She’d left the three top buttons of her white silk shirt open, Skye noted with some irritation, revealing the hint of lace underneath. Her ears, throat and wrists glinted with gold; her hair done in a complicated twist.

Brown liquid finished slurping into the first cup. Skye moved it to one side, trying not to burn her fingers, and stuck in more coins.

‘I heard you talked to one of my colleagues on the board of Royalty. As you know, we are always happy to help the law in any way possible and have been nothing but co-operative, but it all seems so cloak and dagger. Surely we have a right to know what’s going on.’

Hunter straightened. Walking around to the front of his desk, he stood over her. His expression gave nothing away. ‘As I told that stuckup prig, Webber, I am unable to give information which may compromise an ongoing investigation. He didn’t react well either.’ Skye sneaked a look at Narelle. She had to be insulted, especially as they knew each other so well, but there was only concern showing on the lovely face as she leaned forward and took his hand.

‘I’m worried about you, Stephen. I know you’re under a lot of pressure and it concerns me.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘No, no you’re not.’ Narelle stood now, reached a hand to his shoulder. In other circumstances it might seem as if they were about to dance. When he didn’t react, she sighed. ‘Stephen, I’m saying this as your oldest friend. I watched you fall apart once before, and I recognise the signs. You’re not yourself.’

Even from a distance Skye saw Hunter’s eyes glint dangerously, but his voice was perfectly controlled. ‘Your concern is noted but unnecessary.’

Incredibly, she stroked his stony cheek. ‘My darling, don’t jeopardise everything you’ve worked for with another vendetta. I thought we were passed all that. You accused me of something once before and didn’t succeed. I forgave you then because I understood the reason for your breakdown. Don’t make the same foolish mistake again.’

Taking her hand from his shoulder, Hunter studied her fingers before lifting his head. His eyes were steady on hers as he spoke. ‘Worry about yourself, Narelle, not me.’ Walking to the door he opened it, held it ajar. ‘Your brother won’t always be there to protect you.’

‘My brother?’ Narelle gave a sad shake of her head. ‘You see that proves my point.’ Gently, she laid a hand over his still gripping the door. ‘Get help, Stephen, before you do something you’ll regret. Anya’s anniversary is coming up soon. If you won’t do it for me, do it for her.’

Every ounce of colour drained out of his face. Against the black of his uniform his skin looked deathly white. Narelle turned on her heels and strode out. Skye thought she’d walk straight past, but as she drew level she paused. Leaning in so close her breath tickled Skye’s cheek, Narelle whispered, ‘Oh, little girl, what big ears you have. Be careful of that big, bad wolf. He turns on you when you least expect it.’ Then she was gone, leaving the same trail of flowery scent and the echo of clicking heels.

Still gripping the door Hunter’s eyes lifted and met Skye’s through the glass.

Empty. Bleak. Dead.

She jolted, spilling hot coffee over her hand, but he made no sign that he’d seen her. Abruptly, he turned, grabbed his coat from his chair and stormed out without giving her a second glance.

Smith appeared at Skye’s shoulder. She handed him one of the cups. ‘Lover’s tiff? Got the boss a bit stirred up.’

Yeah, she agreed, miserably, as things rearranged themselves in her head. And he isn’t the only one.

By five thirty traffic throughout the city was snarled to a standstill. Another power failure had taken out most of the traffic lights and the tubes had ground to a halt. Outside HQ reporters were interviewing the furious shuttle bus queues who were blaming everyone, including the law, for the foul up.

Resigned to elbowing her way through the madhouse, Skye called Maxine on her klip. When she answered candlelight lit up her features. ‘I’m going to be late,’ Skye apologised. ‘I’ve got to walk from HQ and the crowds are horrendous. I’ll be there as soon as I can.’

‘Why don’t you leave Lexie with me for the night?’ Maxine shifted slightly and her brother’s face joined her on screen. ‘Then you won’t have to worry.’

Guilt that she should feel relief snarled through her, but she had so much going on in her head she doubted she’d cope well with Lexie’s demands tonight.

‘If you’re sure that’s okay. There’s a clean pair of pants in his bag… emergency use, oh, and he’s due for his dose of Preventix…’

‘Please can I stay, can I, can I? We’ve got zillions of candles and Maxine says I can have a torch by my bed, and we’re having cold baked beans out of the can and bread with spread and Maxine’s gonna tell me a story about a warrior and a princess and stuff and everything.’

Caught in a commuter log-jam, Skye was having a job holding the klip steady. ‘Okay, Lex,’ she shouted, against the noise of the crowd and an air-borne explosion of Darts leaving HQ - her colleagues obviously wouldn’t be walking. ‘Be good and I‘ll see you after school tomorrow.’ With an eye on the sky she heard herself say, ‘Put Maxine back on, would you. I want to ask her something.’

When Maxine reappeared Skye cupped her hand to the mouthpiece and, although hating herself for asking, said, ‘How did Anya Leberdev die?’

Maxine’s calm expression never faltered, although one eyebrow lifted minutely. ‘Can I ask why you want to know, dear?’

The crush began moving again as traffic police with searchlights arrived to blaze a trail. She had no answer she could give so shrugged. ‘Her name came up at work. I just wondered that’s all. It’s not important.’

Maxine’s eyes clouded. ‘They were together for over a year,’ she said with a slight shake of her head. ‘They met on Stellar Frontier. Anya worked in the military research laboratories there. When she was killed in a freak accident it quite literally broke Stephen’s heart. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll see to Alexei’s tea.’ She broke transmission leaving Skye feeling like the prying busy-body she was.

By the time she got home two hours later, the power was back on, the temperature climbing back to liveable and the water in the shower blissfully hot. She stood in the steam letting the warmth seep back into her bones and trying to make sense of her feelings.

Half of her said she should just front him with her suspicions. Give him a chance to explain, and if necessary give himself up. If he was guilty, maybe he could plead diminished responsibility because of a broken heart… could you do that? Was it a valid excuse for murdering people…?

God, what was she thinking!

Groping for a towel, she stumbled out of the shower and slunk into bed, pulling the duvet over her head like a cocoon. She didn’t want to think any more; just wanted to hide until it all went away.

Seconds later her klip bleeped.

‘Skye…’

‘Ashleigh. What’s wrong?’ Skye combed a hand through her hair, held it back from her face. ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Skye, something terrible’s happened.’ She pressed her fingers to wet eyes. ‘Cricket’s dead. Horse called a few minutes ago. He asked me to tell you.’

‘No.’ Every ounce of the shower’s warmth left Skye’s body. Sitting up, she gripped the edge of the bed for support. ‘How? Where? God, I only saw him this morning…’

Ashleigh sniffed, blew her nose on a tissue. ‘I know he was awful and smelly and a complete waste of space being juiced all the time, but…’ Her eyes, which seemed to have mini erupting volcanoes painted on the lids, filled again. The lava was smudging down her cheeks. ‘You know we were related, vaguely, somehow… I never wanted to admit it; I was so awful about him. Now I feel terrible… I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t around. He’s just always been there.’

‘Tell me. Tell me how?’

With streaming eyes and nose, Ashleigh produced another tissue; blotted. ‘He stumbled off the curb in all the confusion of the black-out,’ she managed. ‘Passersby say he was drunk as a skunk… never stood a chance. He got hit by a shuttle bus, went right under its skirts.’

Naked to the waist, Skye stood in front of the bathroom mirror; a pair of nail scissors in her hand. Too many coincidences, she whispered to her reflection. Okay, it was possible Cricket’s death had been an accident, but how handy was that? Only hours after describing what he’d seen to her, and therefore to Hunter, he winds up dead. She didn’t think so, and how long before he came to silence her too. The clock’s ticking on that one.

She’d already downed two fixers and had a spray of skin shield ready for after, hoping the fixers would work in advance to take the edge off the pain. Taking a long steadying breath, she traced the shape of the tracker with a finger.

The first stab as the point of the scissors pierced her was nothing to what followed. A thin trickle of blood oozed from the wound and ran down her breast as, whimpering, she dug deeper.

She detested the sight of blood, particularly her own. The room shimmered as blotches swam in front of her streaming eyes. Slippery from blood running down to the handles, the scissors slipped out of her hand and clattered into the basin. Through tightly squeezed lids, she risked a peek down, then breathed out a sigh. Sticking out from the mess she’d made of her chest was a small metallic object, which was definitely larger than a grain of rice, marginally.

One small tug and the hated tracker plopped into her hand.

When her klip beeped for the second time that night she was kneeling on the kitchen floor hurling food from the dispenser into a bag: soymilk, bread, cheese substitute, a couple of packets of bugs, everything that could be easily carried. Her clothes and Lexie’s were already packed and waiting by the door. She had no idea where they were going, but knew they couldn’t stay there.

Who the hell…? ‘King?’ He looked upset; worried; his short hair mussed where he was pulling his fingers through it. Alarmed, Skye stood. ‘What’s up? Where are you? Are you sick?’

Glancing briefly over his shoulder, he shook his head. ‘No, no.’ He leant closer to the screen, lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘I’m at work, night shift, coffee break. This has gotta be quick; I can’t be caught talking to you.’ Something in his eyes had her heart bumping in her chest.

‘King, where do you work?’

For answer, he shifted slightly to the side. Water shimmered in the moonlight to the left of the screen, and in the background the unmistakable shape of the Palace.

‘Royalty Trading?’ That name was cropping up far too often.

‘Just listen, okay. Something’s wrong here. Something’s really wrong. There’s cargo boats coming in and out all night, sky traffic’s building up, freight trams come in that don’t go back out on deliveries and there’s an area at the back of the main building that’s suddenly heavily guarded.’

She thought of the organised chaos she’d witnessed when she’d been there. ‘Aren’t they just seasonally busy?’

His already furrowed brow creased further. ‘Not this much activity, and it’s stepped up in the last few days.’ He broke off as footsteps sounded, and Skye got a blurry picture of his jeans as he dropped his arm. As they died away, his face reappeared. ‘This guarded area’s surrounded by full-blast protection. A geezer got curious last week, ended up fried. Management said an electrical fault caused a short-circuit…’

‘But you don’t buy it.’ Her stomach started doing back-flips and her throat was dry as dust. ‘What have they got in there?’

‘I dunno, but… Look, there’s a rumour, right? Just a buzz. A new drug’s coming and it’s gonna be mega. Pulse: the ultimate near death experience. You know, the full floaty out of body, dazzling white light at the end of a tunnel shit; all euphoric, happy-dance crap and God waiting for you at the other end.’

‘Too much and maybe you get to meet him for real.’

‘Yeah, I figured, and if that’s what’s coming in here, I don’t want any part of it. I’m clearing out, but I thought you should know, pass it on.’

Skye hesitated for only a moment. However she felt about Hunter, she knew what she had to do; what she should have done all along. But she needed more before going to Captain Yao with her suspicions. ‘King, I need to get into Royalty.’

‘Whoa!’ King’s eyebrows touched his hairline. ‘You got a death wish or something? I said pass it on, not act like a stupid vigilante. Tell Hunter and let him check it out.’

Might have the same result, she mused, but kept that thought to herself. ‘King, I’m not asking you to do anything but get me into Royalty and point me in the right direction. Then you can split.’

‘No way, José. I’ve told you what I know and that’s all I’m doing. I’m gone, conscience clear, good deed done. S’long, auf Wiedershehen, goodbye.’

‘Yeah, yeah. You owe me, remember. I’ll meet you at the docks in an hour.’ She disconnected.