Price of a Bounty (Reliance on Citizens Makes Us Great!) Read Online Free PDF

“It’s
Rose. We think she’s working for Elaine Ramsey too.”
    “No
shit! Really?”
    I
smiled and licked some crumbs off my fingers.
    Richard
rejoined us. “I underestimated her too,” he said to
Eberhardt. “The police will be here soon to investigate the
robbery and death of Oren Johnson. We need to be out of here in half
an hour.” He turned to me. “You’ll come with us?”
    “No,
I have to go to work, and so does Eberhardt.”
    Eberhardt
nodded. “I’ll stay and work with the police.”
    I
looked at Richard. “Try to leave without being spotted, and
let me go first. I’ll be obvious and try to draw attention away from
the building. If Mrs. Ramsey has hired anyone else, hopefully
they’ll follow me. I’ll meet with her later this morning and tell
her what happened to Oren.”
    I
retrieved my coat and purse from the bedroom and hurried to the front
door. Before I reached it, Richard was at my side, his hand on my
arm.
    “Wait!
Exactly what do you plan to tell her?”
    I
turned and gave him my full attention. “That I killed Oren
Johnson. Don’t worry, I won’t tell her anything else.”
    “How
can I reach you?”
    “It’s
probably best that you don’t, but if you need to, contact Scott.”
    I
hurried through the hall, down the stairs and into the bright
sunlight. Once on the street, I projected an air of confidence as I
walked along, joining the flow of pedestrians and cyclists.
Eventually, I paused and knocked on the window of a cab. It was a
rusty old blue wagon. Hopefully, it would get me more than a few
blocks before breaking down. I gave the driver directions to The
String Bean, a restaurant a few blocks from my apartment.
    I
frequented The String Bean, since it was so close to home. Over
time, the waitstaff and I had become friendly. Today, I walked in,
chatted for a bit, and then exited through a side door. One could
never be too cautious.
    My
apartment, located in one of Tkaron’s nicer Working Class
neighborhoods, could have easily fit into Richard’s living room, but
it was familiar and comfortable. It was home.
    I
kicked off my shoes and turned on an old techno musical device that
had belonged to my mother. A woman’s voice rang out clearly. “Just
direct your feet…to the sunny side of the street…” My
mother had enjoyed music from the early 20th Century. The upbeat
melodies and bright lyrics added color to our days. She’d told me
that it masked the prevalent hardships of the time, hardships that
seemed to be an ongoing experience for our people. I was drawn to
the music because of the irony and because it reminded me of my
mother.
    I
directed my feet past my bed and to my closet. The threadbare carpet
was grey now. I had no idea what color it had been in its glory
days.
    Which
outfit would work best for today? As always, I needed to look the
part. I chose a pretty green dress speckled with tiny daisies.
Shoes? White sandals. After a dab of lip color and something for my
eyes, my look was complete, that of a lovely young saleswoman.

-Scott-
    A
Call from a Friend

    My
personal transceiver buzzed, “Maddock here.”
    “Hi,
Scott!”
    I
recognized the voice so I turned on the vidscreen for verification.
“Rick! What’s up?”
    “We
have a friend in common. Her name is Madeline.”
    How
did they meet? In case anyone was tracking this call, I would
keep it light, a conversation between friends. “Yes, Maddie!
Wonderful girl.”
    “Beautiful
too!”
    “Sure
is!”
    “I
understand you know her pretty well. What’s your opinion of her?”
    “She’s
loyal and trustworthy. She’s a good find!”
    “How
much does she know about me?” Rick asked.
    I
shrugged. “We’ve never talked about you.”
    “You’ve
known her for a long time, haven’t you?”
    I
nodded.
    “Well,
have you ever, you know?”
    If
anyone was listening in, they would think we were talking about
something else entirely, but I knew what Rick was really asking. He
wanted to know how much I’d