Poisoned Pawn by Jaleta Clegg Page A

Guild library on those planets,” I finished.
    “You keep getting picked up by police and the Guild will kick you out,” Jasyn said.
    “I’m not trying to.”
    “You just have bad luck, I know. Back in a couple of hours.”
    She left and Clark sat in the pilot chair, swiveling it around to face me. I held my hands over the keypad, unsure of what questions to ask or where to even start looking.
    “You want me to key in my personal file?” Clark asked. “That should answer your questions about me.”
    “Do you work for Lowell?” I asked, dropping my hands and facing him.
    “Would it really make a difference if I did?” He rubbed his eyes. “I’m here as a pilot. Does the rest matter?”
    “I guess not,” I admitted.
    “Then let’s get down to business.” He leaned forward and typed rapidly. “The men weren’t typical Targon Syndicate. They don’t usually use obvious hit men. But it could have been bounty hunters. The price on your head is enough to tempt some of them.”
    I leaned back, out of his way. His fingers flew across the keys. A security screen only slowed him for a second.
    “Targon wants you alive. Which is why it’s strange they were shooting at you today. Ah.” He stopped typing while words flowed across the screen. “Stun pellets.” He hit a few more keys. A large diagram took the place of text on the screen. “We’re not in Targon space anymore. Shamustel is marked off limits. Local government is too tough on thugs.”
    “Just what database are you into?”
    “Don’t ask and I won’t have to shoot you,” he said, typing again.
    He reminded me of Tayvis when I’d run into him on Dadilan. He was working undercover and had told me something similar.
    “Do you know Malcolm Tayvis?” I asked on impulse.
    His hands froze over the keys. He deliberately started typing again. “Who?” he asked a shade too innocently.
    “Never mind.” I slumped in my chair.
    “The locals have called in the Patrol to find those other men,” Clark said. “We should be cleared to leave. What planets did you say we were going to?”
    “Ytirus, Cygnus, and Kimmel.” I picked at the blood drying on the back of my hand.
    “You ought to take care of that,” Clark said without even looking.
    “It’s just a scrape. How did you get there in time?”
    “Talent of mine, riding to the rescue in the nick of time.”
    “Just like in your book,” I said, referring to the bad romance novel I found in his chair.
    He looked at me, puzzled for a second before he remembered. “Just like in the book,” he said flatly and turned back to the screen.
    “I’ll go take care of this,” I said waving my scraped hand. The blood was dry, the scrape already scabbed over. It was an excuse to check out the bag I’d seen him drop on the table on his way in.
    He watched me, sudden suspicions of his own on his face. I made a big show of getting out the med kit and washing my hand. He flicked a glance at the bag and shrugged, turning back to the screen. Whatever was in the bag, he didn’t care if I saw it or not.
    “Isn’t privacy allowed on your ship?” he asked when I pulled the bag open.
    “I just want to read the sequel,” I said as a book slipped out of the bag. It looked a lot like the other book, except the woman on the front was brunette. I flipped it open.
    “You shouldn’t read trash like that,” Clark said.
    “You do,” I teased him. “Chapter Six, Death in the Darkness.”
    He muttered something about nosey women. I put the book back in the bag and closed it.
    “Do you want me to put it in your cabin before Jasyn sees it?”
    He swiveled the chair all the way around, looking at me instead of the screen. His eyes were opaque. He studied me, deciding something. I held the bag in my hands and watched him back. The computer beeped. He pushed a button without looking.
    “Go ahead.” He swung back to the computer.
    I opened the door to his cabin. His bunk had a dark blue blanket on it, one of the