Free Onekka - The Tragedy of Jaqui Fennet by Michael E Bell Page A

was
packing some serious bulk, she thought, leading her to wonder if he'd had more
enhancement work done than just his eyes. Those shaded glasses looked at her
impassively, and he moved his hand ever so slightly, as if to reaffirm his
gesture. Unsure of any other way to proceed, Jaq obliged and sat down.

DePennier leaned into the comm unit on his wrist. "She's here now. Search
her bunk." Jaq made as if to object, but then realised it was pointless.
She watched him shift in his chair as though seeking a comfortable angle.

"You've caused me quite some difficulty, Ms Fennet," he said. He
intones everything, as though he's reading from a tome of prophecy. Pretentious
arse! She shivered. Pretentious, but still bloody intimidating. "The security forces find themselves irrationally interested in me and the
part I may have played in Garret's demise. I assume it was you that gave them
the notion I was involved?"

Despite her nerves, Jaq objected to being put on the back foot. Her reflection
in those mirrored glasses was glaring back at her, arms crossed in anger. The
feeling of self-disappointment led her to shrug in response to DePennier's
question. Then she kicked herself further, knowing it was a reaction designed
to antagonise rather than help her situation, and annoyed that she'd defaulted
to 'surly teenager' when threatened.

With no pheromone buffer, she needed to find a calm place to hide from his
tech-augmented vision. Her only chance to avoid giving herself away was to be
genuinely calm, to avoid giving off any of those telltale stress responses. Easier
said than done, idiot - look where you've gotten yourself! No! That definitely
wouldn't help. She fought to steady her breathing and tame that wild heartbeat.
If she could switch off while men had their way with her body, she could surely
do the same with her mind.

"I am forced to secrete myself down here," he continued, "in order
to maintain the illusion of cooperation on the part of my employers. Thanks to
my being a suspect in the eyes of the security forces, I cannot conduct my
investigation openly. Let me assure you that your little gambit will not go
well for you."

A silence ensued, and Jaq quickly realised he was trying to discomfit her by
opening a silence without asking a question. "What did you want to speak
about, Mr DePennier?"

"Mr Garret was in possession of certain items," he said, his lips
curling at the corners as if he found the verbal sparring amusing. "These
items were sensitive in nature." He paused again, studying her intently. Where's
my cigarette when I need it? Arsehole must know I'm nervous this time. No, Jaq.
Think calm, pleasing thoughts. You don't need the cigarette, just willpower.

Jaq fought the urge to shrug again. "Why are you telling me about it? I
was Mr Garret's Admin Overseer, not his inventory manager."

He leaned forward, and that deep voice took on the harsh undertone of anger.
"Because those items are missing, and it is you who was prying into
restricted matters before Garret's death."

"I have no idea what yo-"

"DO NOT LIE TO ME!" he thundered, standing up hard enough to topple
his chair and towering above her, his balled fists crashing down on the desk.
"Only you benefit from this. You, and whatever clandestine purpose you
pursue. I think you killed Garret, and I think you did it so you could steal
those items!"

Jaq leaned back in the face of his intensity. The man looked a hair's breadth
from pounding on her face with those huge, meaty hands of his. Her breath was
stuck, cold as ice, in her throat and her heart fluttered like a dying bird.
Before she could formulate a response, he shrank back, turned to pick up his
chair, and sat down once again opposite her. He leaned back, those reflective
glasses never facing anywhere but straight at her face.

The ensuing quiet was thick and choking. DePennier's recently unleashed anger
beat upon the air, infesting the silence with malice. Jaq fought to bring her
heart rate under control,