Payoff by Alex Hughes Read Free Book Online

health treatments. Something about the way he moved made me think of a tennis player,
whap
to return the ball,
whap
to hit it back at you. His cheeks were ruddy with anger.
    Behind him was the pompous campaign manager from this morning, Mantega, in an even more expensive suit. He was a lawyer by trade, and I vaguely remembered Cherabino had found his record otherwise to be clean. She’d made some comment about his previous clients, something about defending the scum of the earth.
    “I’m surprised you people didn’t drag me down in handcuffs,” Oden said. “It’s a disgrace to our system of government. I’m a state senator, for the love of God.”
    I pasted on the most natural smile I could manage, relaxed my shoulders, and held out a hand. “I’m sorry for the rough treatment. The officers must have gotten a little overzealous. Please, sit. Can we get you guys some coffee?” I did my best to project hail-fellow-well-met, not because I thought I could actually manage the feeling in Mindspace, not now, but because my micro-facial expressions and body language would at least project it some. Politicians were good at reading people, and I’d have to be careful. Very careful, this late in the day, so I wouldn’t miss anything. I’d do this. I’d do it if it killed me. They sat, Mantega finding a seat very close, arranging his cuff links carefully before placing them on the table.
    With as tense as they were, I’d have to softpedal it. “I’d like to ask you some questions. Namely, about your intern, a Raymond Datini? He was reported missing a few days ago.” I forced myself to focus on strategy, where I was going with this.
    Oden shifted in his chair, seeming to relax. “Yes, Raymond works for us. If that’s all this was about you could have made an appointment. I would have talked to you.”
    I completely ignored the implication that he wouldn’t talk otherwise, and reinforced my pleasant body language.
    Just then, Bellury appeared in the doorway with two coffees in hand.
Thank you,
I mouthed at him. He frowned at me in return, probably unsure why the words hadn’t just appeared in his head, but I stood up and took the coffee to overrule the moment.
    “Ah, here we go,” I said, and put the coffee in front of the two men. Mantega sniffed at it and pushed it away; Oden held it in his hands.
    I pulled the chair around and sat down on the side of the table, perpendicular to Oden, as to seem more friendly. He blinked when I got into his personal space, but settled down nicely when I backed up a half-foot. Apparently we weren’t that friendly yet, but that was okay.
    Bellury settled in his chair in the corner and held the files I’d asked him to bring.
    “Senator Oden,” I began, and paused for him to correct me.
    As expected, he put in, “Billy, please.”
    “Thank you,” I smiled the expected smile. “Now, let’s start with the legal disclosures. I’m a Level Eight telepath.” I paused. It was technically true, even if I wasn’t operating right now, and the disclosure intimidated most people. “I’m required by law to tell you that skin-to-skin physical contact can increase my ability to read your mind, so for most people it’s considered wise to avoid all physical contact with telepaths. The Guild recommends that if you have something to hide from a telepath, you think about something else.” That part usually got me a flash of a secret, a flash I was sorely missing now. “Do you have any questions?”
    “Am I under arrest?” Senator Oden squirmed a little in the chair.
    “No,” I said soothingly. “Nothing like that. Even so you’re entitled to a lawyer if you want one. You should also know you’re being recorded. It’s just standard procedure, to make sure I’m doing my job correctly.” I smiled again, and shrugged in a self-deprecating way. “Do we need to wait for anyone for you? Are you comfortable?”
    He drank a little of the coffee and made a face. Bellury had likely given