CONFORMITY (Book Two of The Criminogenic Trilogy) by BT Murphy Page A

name.”
    “It’s a nice name though,” Peter stated coolly.
    “Yes, well; I’m not a fan.”
    “I’ll call you Maggie, then,” Peter announced as Maggie nodded her head in gratitude.  Peter continued in the muddy patch trying to make sense of the mess, the awkward tension only worsened by the midday heat.  “Hot out here today,” he proclaimed.
    “Very,” Maggie agreed, stabbing the earth. She looked as though she was trying to give Nature as well as it dished out. The oversized floral print dress had started clinging to her frame, but Peter couldn’t quite decide if it was from sweat or too much water in the flowerbed.  He watched her angry movements for a moment, wondering why she would put up with the heat and Beatrice?  Especially when she clearly didn’t seem to enjoy either.
    “I’m not a fan,” Peter continued, borrowing Maggie’s phrase.
    “Neither am I.”
    “I can tell.”
    “What gave it away, Peter? The sweat literally dripping from my forehead or watering these damned little flower things?   Perhaps it was that the flower things are mostly crushed because I don’t know what I am doing?”
    Peter looked up at her, his eyebrows slightly raised in surprise. Another roll of sweat down his spine reminded him that he shared her sentiments.
    Maggie might be more careful with her face than Peter was, but he was far more careful with his words. The sarcasm was refreshing, though. It made him grin boyishly, ducking his head all the while to hide his guilty glee. Each edgy quip was like sugar to his ears.
    Peter thought that he had her measured up. He was so well versed in fraud that he recognized the practiced behavior of a fellow fraudster when he saw it.  Maggie was clearly as cunningly hidden as he was, but she was also more cautious of others.  She was less likely to handover her trust on a whim, and Maggie wasn’t as sure about Peter as he was of her. She watched him for a while before deciding to give him a chance. 
    “Detest is a word I’d use, Peter. Despise. Hate. You can choose the appropriate verb.”
    Peter nodded in agreement, in a secret hope of kinship with this woman.  Maggie and her sneaky sarcasm, dressed in the finest hand-me-down garbs to hide her plump frame.  Maggie seemed like the kind of person who had been hiding herself away from the world for years, and Peter felt like he’d stumbled across a counterfeit gem.
    Beatrice trotted back over to the two outcast gardeners.  Her eyes narrowed while she wondered about their secret snickering over broken bulbs.
    ***
    Evelyn walked through the bleached halls of the hospital where she had been summoned.  She’d heard that Jonathan Phelps was in critical condition, but she wanted to see his demise for herself.  There were rumors running rife through the Regions that a Zone 4 castaway had attacked him, but this couldn’t be confirmed.  The D.A.E had revved up the security around the Zones, everyone was a suspect, and no one would understand how this could happen.  All the Would’s and Could’s were supposed to be detained. It was inconceivable that the Director was brutally attacked.  Her mass of pitch-black curls bounced wildly behind her as she walked defiantly past the security ensemble that had been assigned to the Director.  The attack wasn’t common knowledge. The State feared that if the citizens knew of the gross breach in command, that there would be an uprising.  They wouldn’t be wrong.  Evelyn knew that it was only a matter of time before the Foresworn would sweep in and use this information to their advantage.  She could only keep them on hold for a short while, but she knew that she had to confirm the rumor before sending the troops in. 
    Using her worn out Level 1 pass, Evelyn sauntered past guards and nursing staff with a regal grace.  She was playing the role of a concerned friend, and no one questioned her presence.  She played the part too well.  Finally reaching the isolated ward where