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He glanced down and came up with a sheepish smile. "Where’s my brain today? I forgot to put it back on."
I almost asked why he took it off.Stop looking at his chesticles.My rational side tried to regain control. My eyes ignored my command to look away. The cobalt blue ink of his tattoos seemed to dance across his skin. I ignored the sudden desire to trace his ink with my finger.
He set a plate of hot dogs and a soda can on the table. "I have no key for you. I can’t let you roam the ship."
I coughed as a sporty, hypermasculine scent burned through my nostrils. "What’s that smell? It’s like five frat boys hit up the fragrance counter at the mall."
He pulled his hair off his neck. "Guess I overdid it on the body spray."
Why he doused himself with body spray and wandered around without a shirt tonight was likely none of my business.
"You can use these to sleep." He set a pillow and blanket on the chair. "There’s a little bathroom behind the bookshelf in the back."
"You want me to spend the night in here?"
"Don’t look so surprised. Space is limited. At least the space in here. Not out there."
I didn’t laugh at his joke. “Got something to write on? I need to start case notes so I don’t miss details."
His face perked up. "Take anything you need in this room." He pulled open a drawer and handed me a pad of paper. "Gravix got these from the warden’s desk when he was looking for the keys."
I plucked a pen from the table and scribbled on the pad. "I’m only doing this because I want to get out of here."
"Ouch. They say the truth hurts."
I stopped writing. "I also hate to be wrong."
Klinn’s optimism returned. "I knew I could appeal to your desire for a great track record. You’re like a well-oiled machine."
People called me that before when they talked about how I did my job, when they didn’t consider other parts of me. He may have been joking, but I still felt a sting. Ugh, that was me, too sensitive at the weirdest times. "I’m a woman."
"That, you are." His gaze became focused, yet soft. "Sleep tight, detective. No more trying to play hardball with me tonight."
"I’ll show you hardball." I wadded up a sheet of yellow paper. Before I could sling it or another wisecrack at him, he slipped out the door.
My grumbling started as soon as I heard the bolt slide into place on the other side of the door. He didn’t kid me. He fully intended to keep me locked in this storage room.
My eyes also started to water from whatever Klinn sprayed all over himself. The first scent he wore was much better. I stifled a sneeze as I searched along the walls, hoping there’d be another door, maybe to a utility closet with an unlocked entrance on the other side.
I pushed an empty shelving unit to discover nothing behind it except space dust bunnies. Something clicked on over my head. I lifted my face to meet a stream of cool air coming from the ceiling vent. If only the vent was wider than a shoe box. Even if I could stand on a chair to reach it, these thighs weren’t going to squeeze through that tiny opening.
I picked up a plain heated hot dog, no bun, and plopped down on the chair. Guess I was camping out here for the night. I tried not to think about the fact I was locked in with no windows. Not that a window mattered. What was I going to do, open it and float out into space?
If I had my com link, I could figure out my coordinates and call for help. Was my department looking for me?
I let my thoughts drift as I bit into the hot dog. It was a little rubbery, but my stomach roared after having nothing in it since early this morning. I washed it down with the room temperature soda while I perused what I scribbled on the notepad concerning Klinn’s case.
So far, I summarized his account of the museum thefts: someone else did it, he was being framed, same old story, same old yada yada.
Klinn mentioned someone was looking for him in this galaxy. He hinted he was running out of time.
I set the can of soda on the table. The remaining carbonation fizzed around the rim, its light hiss a background white noise to my thoughts.
If Klinn told the truth and I helped him, then both our names would be cleared. His, for a crime, and mine for mistakenly bringing him in. But if he proved to be a liar, I would get court-martialed for aiding and abetting a known criminal.
That could be in the cards anyway since I agreed to help him after his prison break. What would he do if I refused to help? I wasn’t exactly playing on home turf out here near planet Xaxos.
I drummed my fingers on the table. My options sucked. Any of them could turn out to be the wrong choice. I had to make one regardless.
