Free Poisoned Pawn by Jaleta Clegg Page B

practiced air.
    He lunged into the street and came right back, dragging someone with him, gun tight against the man’s cheek. “Make the wrong move and I shoot,” Clark said in a voice as cold as his eyes. “Why are you following us?”
    The man jerked his head, but Clark kept a tight hold on his collar.
    “Why do you think?” the man said, giving me a cold look.
    “You tell me,” Clark threatened, “or I start shooting bits off.”
    The man just smiled, a narrow look that was anything but amused or happy.
    I caught movement beyond him at the mouth of the alley. The other men were coming, guns held low. The good citizens of Shamustel didn’t seem to notice. Man number one twisted, breaking Clark’s grip. Clark lashed out and punched him in the face. The other men moved faster, closing in on us. I did the only thing I could think of.
    I screamed.
     

 
Chapter Nine
     
    I definitely attracted attention. The dark men put their guns away and melted back into the crowds. People stopped to peer into the alley. I heard sirens in the distance. Clark and man number one punched each other a few more times. Man number one was trying to get away; Clark kept him in the alley.
    The local police landed outside the alley, dozens of blue uniforms swarmed over the area. Clark and man number one were separated. Clark moved back to stand by me.
    “What happened here?” one of the police asked us.
    “They mugged me,” man number one said.
    “He was shooting at me,” I said.
    “Take them all to the station,” the policeman ordered his underlings.
    “I want to press charges,” man number one continued. “They assaulted me.”
    Clark didn’t say anything.
    The police searched all of us. I emptied my pockets and showed them my ID cards, a few credits, the necklace the fluttery woman had given me, and the contract for the ceramics from Juntis Shoot. The police handed them all back.
    I watched them search Clark, my nerves twitching. I wondered how he was going to explain his gun. It wasn’t legal on Shamustel. He didn’t look worried. He didn’t have the gun. The police found it in man number one’s pocket. Clark winked. I bit back a grin. Man number one protested loudly as they cuffed him and led him away.
    Clark and I were put into separate flitters. We weren’t cuffed, which I took for a good sign.
    The police station had pillars, too, just not as chunky as a Patrol office. I was escorted to a desk in the back of the busy room. A Shuisha, a short furry sapient who wore a simple belt with a badge on it for clothing, asked for my prints. I put my hand on the scanner and identified myself. The computer beeped and the Shuisha’s baby blue eyes went as big as saucers. It jumped down from the chair and bustled across the room to whisper with a human officer.
    The human officer came across the room, her boots thudding heavily on the thin carpet. She bent over the computer console and pushed a few buttons. The Shuisha climbed back onto its chair and watched me. The human officer shot me a confused look and went away.
    “Come with me, please,” said a pleasant voice behind me.
    I stood to face a tall man, distinguished looking in a plain dark suit. He smiled blandly and indicated an office to one side.
    Man number one was on the far side of the room, near the holding cells, glaring and talking fast. I saw no sign of Clark. I went into the office, glad to get away from man number one.
    The office was paneled with dark wood. The carpet underfoot was twice as thick as that outside. The man shut the door, closing out the busy noise of the main room.
    “Please, sit, captain.” He went behind his desk.
    I found a chair and sat.
    “Your record is most…” He hesitated, steepling his fingers. “Intriguing. Would you care to explain?”
    “Explain what?” I asked, resigned to being questioned yet again about things I wasn’t supposed to ever talk about.
    “Viya Station lodged a complaint against you personally,” he began,