Price of a Bounty - By S. L. Wallace Page 0,11

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 told Keira about the Resistance. The answer was, nothing.

“No. Circumstances were never right. And I guess I just wasn’t sure how she would react. How long have you known her?”

“Not long, but it feels like we know each other pretty well already.”

“Who made the first move, if I may ask?”

“She did.”

So Keira had somehow learned about the Resistance, and she knew Rick was a contact. What else does she know? Why did she contact him? Is she interested in joining, or does she need help? Too little information could be dangerous. It was time to tell her.

“In my opinion, she’s trustworthy but not trusting.”

“Well, I thought a good start might be roses, but I don’t know. Maybe it’s too soon? Do you know what other flowers she likes – something more casual perhaps?”

“Flowers?” This wasn’t about flowers. “I don’t know, but I can find out for you.”

“Thanks! I’d really like to make a connection, if you know what I mean.”

I understood completely. Guy needed to get in touch with Keira, and it was important. I looked at the time. Those drills wouldn’t run themselves.

“I have to go. But I’ll talk with her soon and find out what kind of flowers she likes. Good luck!”

-Keira-

Double Crossed for Sure

It was still a little too early to leave, so I sat down in my shabby yet comfortable cranberry chair, leaned my head back and listened to some more music. “I’ve Got Rhythm” began to play. As the singer crooned about her man, a thought flitted through my head. Could Richard be “my man?” I chuckled. Could any man? Hardly. I knew it was better to be alone. Men were not to be trusted. The Elite were not to be trusted. The Gov was not to be trusted. Who was I kidding…most people were not to be trusted.

I reached toward the end table and picked up a small wooden box. Inside rested a shiny silver locket in the shape of a heart. I opened it and gazed at two tiny photos: my mother and my father, young, looking very much like April and Scott. From long ago, I remembered feelings of safety and happiness.

My father had given this locket to my mother shortly after they’d met. How did she know he was the man for her? What quality was it that allowed her to trust him with her heart and her life? Family has to start somewhere. Funny, I’d never thought about that before. I wished I’d had the chance to ask her about love. Did she really believe such a thing existed?

I believed in loyalty, not love. Loyalty was built through trust over time. That was real. What was love in comparison? Oh, I believed there was a biological connection between parents and their children. I’d felt a strong connection with my mother and father, but I was only eight when first my father and then my mother had…I closed my eyes and stopped the tears. There was no point dwelling on pain like that. I gently set the locket back in the box for safekeeping and stood up. It was time to go.

I approached Mrs. Ramsey’s estate with a small pink suitcase in hand. The butler opened the door. He looked down his nose at me.

“Is the lady of the house available?” I politely inquired. He looked me up and down.

“May I ask who is calling?”

“My name is Miss