Free Audacious by Mike Shepherd

inspector shook his head. “I’m sorry. I might officially be grateful, if that had officially happened. However, officially, it didn’t. And, unofficially, we’re not sure what to make of it. Did someone trying to get you almost get one of us? That’s not something we’d like to have happen.”
    And, what with so much of this planet’s current events disappearing with no trace, she could hardly defend her honor. Kris scowled. “So you’re willing to ship my very expensive casket to King Ray, and Grampa Al and my father with a sincere diplomatic apology that my death happened on your watch?”
    “Certainly as sincere as the diplomatic apology Wardhaven sent Greenfeld on the death of Henry Peterwald the Thirteenth,” the inspector said with a very straight face.
    “There is no sincerity in diplomatic apologies,” Kris muttered. Okay, that didn’t work, now what do we try? Kris noticed that it was now Inspector Johnson who was holding her eyes and not blinking.
    What could he want?
    “Why are you here?” he said softly.
    Behind Kris, Jack snorted.
    “Not that question again,” Penny whispered through a sigh.
    Kris found her eyes raising to the heavens. No surprise, the early morning gray had no answer written on the low clouds. Now it was her turn to take in a deep breath and heave it out with enough dramatics to rival one of Tommy’s best Irish sighs.
    “Inspector,” she finally said, looking him straight in the eye. “Would you believe that your planet, with its established ways, solid gun control laws, and law-abiding population was presented to me as a safe harbor where Wardhaven might send their wayward daughter and she’d stay alive while the Rim cooled down and forgot about her last, deadly escapade?”
    “Believe it? Not likely.”
    “Well, I’m having a harder and harder time believing it, too,” Kris muttered softly.
    The inspector chuckled.
    “It seemed believable before I got here and discovered that the same old, same old happens here. It just never makes it into the official record… or the late-night news.” Kris bit out those last two words. What a joke they were here.
    The inspector swallowed his mirth. “You’re serious.”
    “As serious as that bomb yesterday. I’m here to buy paper clips and spare parts. Arrange for computer sales and software licenses. Stay away from stray bullets until Henry Peterwald the Twelfth forgets I was involved in his son’s demise.”
    “That won’t happen anytime soon.”
    “Tell me about it. And certainly not with Vicky getting in my face.” Kris paused, frowning in thought. “Any chance you could find out when the request went in for her visa? Was it before or after mine? If after, how soon after?”
    The inspector raised an eyebrow. “An interesting question. I may look into it. Maybe.”
    “And you might share the results with me? Maybe?” Kris might be weak in femme fatale, but she’d learned to wheedle the cook at Nuu House shortly after learning to walk. Very shortly.
    “I might,” the inspector said, eyeing her. “I might if you could figure out why you’re really here and share it with me.”
    “It’s hard to conclude a bargain with all those mights and maybes in it,” Kris said.
    “And I’m certainly not interested in shaking on it. Haven’t you heard? It’s dangerous to shake a Longknife’s hand.”
    “Only since I was in my crib,” Kris grumbled.
    “Well, I’ll be seeing you. No doubt,” the inspector said, and departed.
    “What was that about?” Jack asked.
    “I. Have. No. Idea.” Kris slammed all the exasperation she felt into her words. “Any of you have something better, I’d be glad to hear it.”
    All she got were shaking heads. They headed in to shower, dress, and breakfast. After that, none of them were any the wiser. But there was no summons to the ambassador’s office, so, apparently, neither was anyone above them.
    Kris was about to leave for exciting negotiations when Nelly broke in.