Stark Pleasure; the Space Magnate's Mistress (The LodeStar Series) by Cathryn Cade Page B

of the crowd was a familiar figure. Maury was an older woman who worked the kiosks, selling packets of souvenirs. Under a cloud of silver hair, her dark, lined face held the remnants of beauty. She dressed in rag-tag ensembles, adding more layers in the winter, shedding some in the summer.  
    Kiri bought things from her when she could, but the magnets, clips and hovertoys were cheaply made, and she had trouble getting rid of them. Sometimes she gave them away free with a latte just to clear the counters. She would keep buying them, though, because Maury had an air of brave gaiety despite the grueling miles she put in every week. She couldn’t use the hoverways and stop at all the kiosks along the concourses, so she walked. Of course a personal hoviecycle was out of the question. They were very expensive, only for the space port guards and the wealthy elderly.
    Kiri stopped beside the older woman. “Maury? What’s happening?”  
    The peddler turned, eyes wide. She dropped the handle of her hoviecart and embraced Kiri in a hug scented with stale perfume, hookah smoke and cooking odors.
    “My dear girl. You’re all right. I feared—well. Perhaps that you’d been murdered, too.”
    Kiri pulled back, aghast. “Murdered? Who’s been murdered?”
    Maury stiffened, her eyes fastened on something over Kiri’s shoulder. “Quickly, hide your face. They’re looking this way.”
    Too late. “There she is,” called a raucous voice, rough with smoke. “It’s her, the coffee seller.”
    Kiri froze as one of the bar habitués pointed at her. Others turned to stare. They conferred in hushed voices, watching her avidly.
    “Oh, dear,” Maury fretted. “They’ve seen you now.”
    ‘They’ were the space port police. Kiri watched in horror as two of the helmeted, armor-clad officers leapt on their hovies and zipped over the crowd, dropping to either side of her and Maury, who clung to her protectively, her shabby shawl draped as much over Kiri as herself.
    “State your name and occupation,” the taller of the two officers said through his microphone, stepping to the floor before Kiri. She couldn’t make out his face behind the reflection on his helmet’s clear face shield.
    Kiri opened her mouth, closed it, tried to swallow the husk in her dry throat, and opened it again. “Kiri te Nawa. I sell coffee … over there.” She nodded toward her kiosk. “That’s my shop.”
    “She’s the one who had the altercation with the gambler,” the other officer said from the height of her cycle. “Better bring her in for questioning.”
    “Bring me in?” Kiri repeated, ice creeping through her gut. “For what? What’s happened?”
    “That awful little gambler,” Maury said in her ear. “They found him behind his shop—murdered.”
    The Vulpean? Murdered right here? How horrible, even if the little rat had deserved it. “But—but I didn’t do it. I wasn’t even here.”
    “You’ll have the chance to call witnesses to attest to your whereabouts,” the tall officer said. “Come along now.”
    “We can’t leave yet,” the female officer told him. “We haven’t finished canvassing the witnesses to the altercation. Hold her here until we’re finished.”
    “Hey, wait a sec!” Kiri protested, angry now.
    The helmets ignored her. Maury patted her shoulder fiercely. “It’s all right, dear,” she said. “You just need … well, you need—”
    Kiri held herself stiff, outwardly defiant, staring back at the gawkers, their gaze avid, mouths busy gossiping. A craven part of her wanted to bolt through the crowd. The helmets were going to take her to space port police headquarters and question her. She didn’t know if she could stand it—it would be too much like ... that other time.
    “You need a witness,” Maury added, her eyes bright. “Someone to say you weren’t here. I can’t, because I was here. But perhaps you were with a friend , hmm?”  
    Stark. She’d been with Logan Stark. Relief filled