Price of a Bounty (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) (3 page)

Eventually,
I grew tired. I called Eberhardt and asked him to watch our “guest”
through the night.

-Keira-

Friend
or Foe?

I
blinked. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, but a shadow
fell over the bed. A large muscular man sat in a straight-backed
chair. He stared at me. I stared back.

“Aren’t
you Richard’s driver?” I feigned an indignant tone. “Why
are you watching me?”

Eberhardt
ignored me but called out. “Rick! The girl is awake.”

Richard
III entered the room. He appeared rested and ready for the day in a
tailor-made light grey business suit.

Why
am I being guarded? Is he onto me?
I looked past him. The
closet door stood open, as did the door of the safe.
Oh, hell!

“Good
morning, Sunshine! So, where did you put it?”

“What?”
I asked in confusion. “Where did I put what?”

“My
money. You bat your eyes, pretend to get drunk, end up at my place
and steal my money.”

“I
honestly don’t know what you mean.” My eyes grew wide.

“You
know something though.”

I
knew something all right – I’d been set up.
The money isn’t
at his other apartment. It isn’t here because someone else has
already gotten to it.

Could
it be Rose?
Although they hadn’t been together long, Rose could
already have a key to the apartment. Had she really needed to borrow
money for rent, or was that just a cover story to direct attention
away from herself? But, how had she opened the safe on her own? I
hadn’t looked into her background much. Had I missed something
crucial? I thought she was a fluffy headed socialite. Why she was
interested in a gardener, I had no idea. Did she know he’d been
lying to her? If so, and this was about money, why hadn’t she just
blackmailed him?

Who
else?
Eberhardt probably knew about the money. He’d been
employed by Richard for over a year, and they seemed close. He drove
Richard to his father’s firm as well as to his other “side
jobs.” But if Eberhardt was going to steal from Richard,
wouldn’t he have done so long before now?

Are
Rose and Eberhardt working together?
I glanced at Eberhardt and
realized he had the look of a professional bodyguard. He moved away
from the chair and stood imposingly in front of the door. His body
language said there would be no escape. He was a big, scary-looking
man in a suit, tall with wide shoulders, muscular, with a scar across
his left cheek. He was the kind of man who looked like he meant
business, the kind of man I didn’t want to cross, if I could help it.
My gut told me that Eberhardt had, and always would have, Richard’s
back.

I
realized then that there was one other person who could have
orchestrated this.
She wouldn’t have double-booked, would
she?
Is she crazy? Doesn’t she realize who she’s messing
with?

Richard
turned the chair around and sat down. Casually, he leaned his arms
across the back of it and faced me. I swung my legs over the edge of
the bed and sat up straight. I looked directly into his eyes,
showing no fear, and dropped the innocent act.

“Who
are you, Madeline?” Richard asked.

I
responded with a question of my own. “Why haven’t you told
Rose the truth?”

“That’s
none of your business. Who are you?”

“That
depends.”

Richard
shook his head. “Depends on what?”

I
softened my tone. “What’s the money for?”

He
looked at me steadily for a moment, calculating, and then shared just
a little. “All right, that money was meant to help people, the
sick, the needy, those the Elite step upon or push out of the way.
People like your father, I suspect.”

I
felt a catch in my throat. Could he possibly understand? Why did he
refer to the Elite as if he wasn’t one of them? Wasn’t Richard the
type of person who stepped on people to get ahead? Weren’t they all?

The
last war created the Divide among our people. The Elite and those
they considered useful received money, medicine and care. They
didn’t just survive; they lived. However selfishly, they lived, and
everyone else…

I
thought Richard was one of them. I wouldn’t have taken the job
if I’d thought otherwise. Why would he be interested in people like
my father? Artists and dreamers, idealists. Hell, everyone who
wasn’t a member of the Elite, was either used or left to rot
and die.

I
thought for a minute longer while Richard waited patiently for me to
make the next move. Elaine Ramsey was on one side of the Divide. I
was on the other. Which side of the Divide was Richard on?

Ramsey
had hired me to find and return her money, and in the process,
eliminate Oren Johnson, a gardener, a nobody. If she’d known
who he really was, she wouldn’t have ordered a kill, not for
the amount he’d stolen. The Elite wouldn’t hesitate to
squash those beneath them for touching their precious gats, but
they’d never hire a Freelancer to kill one of their own, not
unless the stakes were much higher.
Maybe the stakes are higher
than I thought.

I’d
never had a problem eliminating the wealthy and corrupt. In my
experience, the two went hand in hand. I believed my job made Tkaron
a safer city. But, I never took out the innocent or downtrodden.
Those were the people I wanted to help.

But
now… I realized now that Richard hadn’t given me any reason
to believe that Tkaron, or even the entire Realm of Terene, would be
better off without him. And based upon what he’d just said, the
opposite could be true.

All
right, if she’s changing the rules, then so am I.
I took a deep
breath and hoped I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say.

“Elaine
Ramsey hired me to retrieve her money and eliminate you.” Call
me a fool, but telling him felt right.

Out
of the corner of my eye, I saw his bodyguard, pull out a gun.
Richard motioned for him to hold back and quietly said, “Eberhardt
doesn’t respond well to attempts on my life.” He hesitated for
just a moment. “What do you know?”

“I
know that Richard Burke III is your real name and Oren Johnson
isn’t.”

“Is
that all?”

Eberhardt
held his position. I hadn’t given them enough.

“There’s
more, and I’ll tell you when he lowers the gun.”

Richard
looked at his bodyguard and nodded. Eberhardt lowered the gun and
clicked the safety into place.

“You’re
Guy Bensen,” I said.

Now
it was his turn for silence. My contact had assured me that this
alone was what was most important about Richard Burke III.

He
narrowed his eyes. “Does Elaine Ramsey know about my ties to
the Resistance?”

“She
never mentioned it.”

“She
only hired you because of the money?”

“Yes.”

“Then
you learned about me all on your own.”

“Yes.”

Richard
was a member of the Resistance. He had just confirmed it. My source
had neglected to mention that. It was the game we played. If I
hadn’t been so evasive about what I was going to do with the
information, she may have told me more.

“Madeline,
you’re very good at your job.”

“You
have no idea.”

“We
could use your talents.”

Me,
fight for the Resistance?
Their goal was to return balance to
our society. I believed it was a losing battle yet hoped I was
wrong. It surprised me that someone as wealthy as Burke was
involved.

“I
live between the light and the dark,” I said. “The dark
usually pays better and generally seeks to eliminate itself anyway,
but maybe I can be of some assistance.”

“You
can begin by returning the money.”

“I
would if I could,” I responded honestly. “It was already
gone when I got here.”

“I
don’t believe that. The money is the only thing missing. If someone
else had broken in, don’t you think they would have taken more? Is
your arrival the very same night just a coincidence?”

“No,
I don’t think so.”

Richard
closed his eyes. “Are you willing to take a lie detect?”

“I
don’t really trust old techno.”

“Don’t
worry, my lie detect works every time.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Eberhardt
will break one of your fingers every time I suspect you’re
lying to me.”

Eberhardt
holstered the gun beneath his suit coat, flexed his fingers and
smiled at me. At least I think it was meant to be a smile – it
came across as more of a grimace.

Richard
looked directly into my eyes. “So… are you ready to
begin?”

I
couldn’t quite read his expression.
Is he serious, or is he
bluffing?
He held my gaze.
Do I even have a choice? Either
I accept his offer and hope he believes me, or I don’t and…and
what?
I knew what I would do in a similar situation. In their
eyes, I was a threat to the Resistance, and Eberhardt had a gun that
I was certain he was willing to use. I would have to convince them
that their secret was safe with me, that I could be trusted as an
ally. My life depended on it.

I
steadied my gaze and my voice. “Sure.”

Richard
walked over to the dresser. As he opened the bottom drawer and
pulled out an old fashioned lie detect, I quietly sighed with relief.

He
turned to me. “Is there anything you need before we begin?
This will be more reliable if you’re relaxed.”

“Mouthwash
or toothpaste – morning breath,” I explained with a
shrug.

Richard
nodded toward the bathroom. “In the medicine cabinet.”

After
I took care of business, I located the mouthwash, mint flavored,
sipped some and began to swish. I gazed into the mirror over the
ebony sink. A slender young woman with long wavy black hair and
emerald green eyes framed by long dark lashes gazed back at me. I
spat into the sink, and then glanced over at the whirlpool bath.

Well,
now that I had some time. It was black and shiny. I ran my fingers
along the edge, clean. I hadn’t seen anything like this, well, ever.
Working Class apartments had tubs stained by mineral deposits. I
turned one faucet, cold, then the other, hot – a rare
commodity! If this ended up being my last day ever, I was going to
make it a good one, and if it wasn’t…well, a hot bath
certainly wouldn’t hurt. When the water was high, I removed my
clothes, lowered myself into the tub and pushed a button that started
the jets. The tension drained away as I enjoyed the first hot bath
of my life.

My
eyelids fluttered open when I heard a knock on the door. It opened,
and Richard poked his head inside. I made no move to cover myself
but just looked at him, then leaned my head back, closed my eyes and
sighed.

About
an hour later, I exited the bathroom. I felt refreshed and
confident. I’d blown my cover, and I was still alive, at least for
the moment. Richard and Eberhardt were in the living room. They
stared at me for a minute.

Then
Richard stood and asked, “Are you ready?”

“That
tub is one piece of old techno I could get used to! You did say this
will work better if I’m relaxed,” I reminded him.

Richard
ignored my comments and simply pointed to a chair. I sat, and he
began to connect me to the machine.

“I’ll
ask you questions. This part,” he pointed, “will record
my questions and your answers. The electrodes,” he indicated
some wires, “will send signals to these needles which will make
marks on this paper. Truthful answers will leave different marks
than false ones, so I’ll begin by asking you some questions we both
know the answers to. Are you ready to begin?”

“Are
you sure this thing is reliable?”

Again,
he ignored my comment, and the interrogation began. “Where did
we first meet?”

“At
the Café de Rivoli, downtown. We had dinner together.”

“Who
hired you?”

“Elaine
Ramsey.”

“What
is my name?”

“Your
birth name is Richard Burke III. You also go by Oren Johnson, but
you prefer Guy Bensen, at least with people you trust.”

“What
do you do for a living?”

“I’m
a Freelancer.” I saw no need to lie about this, not now.

Richard
paused and shook his head.

“Does
Elaine Ramsey know about my ties to the Resistance?”

“I
don’t think so, but maybe.”

“Is
Madeline Jones your real name?”

Finally,
something new. “No, I’m Keira Maddock.”

-Guy-

The
Lie Detect

The
next morning, I awoke early as usual and prepared for the day.
Finally, Eberhardt called, “Rick! The girl is awake.”

When
I entered the bedroom, I noticed that Madeline’s eyes went directly
to the open safe. Just as I’d expected! Then she looked at
Eberhardt and seemed to realize something.

It
was troubling that she knew me as Guy Bensen, especially since she
was working for Elaine Ramsey.

Most
people who used my code name worked with me or needed my help.
Madeline fell into neither category, and I feared that she knew too
much. I needed to know exactly how much. It was time to use the lie
detect.

“I
don’t really trust old techno,” she said.

“Don’t
worry, my lie detect works every time.”

“What
do you mean?”

With
a straight face, I said, “Eberhardt will break one of your
fingers every time I suspect you’re lying.”

Eberhardt
played along. He put away the gun, flexed his fingers and smiled at
me. I smiled back.

“So…are
you ready to begin?” I asked Madeline.

“Sure,”
she said.

Was
she a masochist, or was she was calling my bluff? I looked at her
more closely then, and for the first time, I noticed a scar on her
right forearm, an old knife wound perhaps. The sleeve covering her
left shoulder had slipped down, and I could see another scar, an old
burn in the shape of a circle. There was also a thin line of white
scar tissue above her left eyebrow.