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Asset Protection
Asset Protection
Asset Protection
Ebook61 pages43 minutes

Asset Protection

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Carla uses her thieving past for good. Hired by retailers to test the effectiveness of their security systems, she makes a good living, despite her felony conviction.

But when she runs into the detective who busted her years ago, and finds out he, too, works in the loss prevention business, she does some digging.

What she finds could dredge up her past and threaten her future.

 

"Kristine Kathryn Rusch's crime stories are exceptional, both in plot and in style."

Mystery Scene Magazine

LanguageEnglish
Release dateApr 9, 2020
ISBN9781393943112
Asset Protection
Author

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

USA Today bestselling author Kristine Kathryn Rusch writes in almost every genre. Generally, she uses her real name (Rusch) for most of her writing. Under that name, she publishes bestselling science fiction and fantasy, award-winning mysteries, acclaimed mainstream fiction, controversial nonfiction, and the occasional romance. Her novels have made bestseller lists around the world and her short fiction has appeared in eighteen best of the year collections. She has won more than twenty-five awards for her fiction, including the Hugo, Le Prix Imaginales, the Asimov’s Readers Choice award, and the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine Readers Choice Award. Publications from The Chicago Tribune to Booklist have included her Kris Nelscott mystery novels in their top-ten-best mystery novels of the year. The Nelscott books have received nominations for almost every award in the mystery field, including the best novel Edgar Award, and the Shamus Award. She writes goofy romance novels as award-winner Kristine Grayson, romantic suspense as Kristine Dexter, and futuristic sf as Kris DeLake.  She also edits. Beginning with work at the innovative publishing company, Pulphouse, followed by her award-winning tenure at The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, she took fifteen years off before returning to editing with the original anthology series Fiction River, published by WMG Publishing. She acts as series editor with her husband, writer Dean Wesley Smith, and edits at least two anthologies in the series per year on her own. To keep up with everything she does, go to kriswrites.com and sign up for her newsletter. To track her many pen names and series, see their individual websites (krisnelscott.com, kristinegrayson.com, krisdelake.com, retrievalartist.com, divingintothewreck.com). She lives and occasionally sleeps in Oregon.

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    Book preview

    Asset Protection - Kristine Kathryn Rusch

    Asset Protection

    Asset Protection

    Kristine Kathryn Rusch

    WMG Publishing, Inc.

    Contents

    Asset Protection

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    Also by Kristine Kathryn Rusch

    About the Author

    Asset Protection

    HE HAD A FIEFDOM—at least that was what Carla called it. Grady’s fiefdom. He didn’t even know she was thinking about it. Thinking about him.

    But she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since she’d gotten the nickel for burglary. Be grateful, he’d said as the deputies led her out of the courtroom in handcuffs. It could’ve been 25 to 30. Because I don’t think you know what good behavior is.

    She knew. Her nickel turned into a penny—a single year, thanks to good behavior (screw you, Grady), back in the days when California released people because they behaved, not because they were non-violent offenders whom the state could no longer afford to house. Now all kinds of scumbags got a pass for no reason at all.

    She wasn’t a scumbag. She was an artist.

    And Grady, in his fiefdom, would soon realize that.

    Carla first saw him in Florida of all places, in one of those cookie-cutter chain hotels that catered to the convention crowd. This particular event was a retailers’ Loss Prevention Conference, which made it sound grander than it was.

    Loss Prevention was a euphemism for theft, which didn’t get called theft in the world of gigantic retailers, it got called shrinkage. Built into the budget, readily acknowledged as part of the industry. And yet it drove the retailers nuts, hence loss prevention.

    The hotel was done up in its post-New Year’s glory—lots of flowers and fresh fruit and other enticements to remind the poor schlubs from places north why people without stock in Disney moved to the Sunshine State.

    Carla went to all the Loss Prevention conferences, mostly so that she could drum up work. Her job was to find flaws in security systems by acting like the criminal that she had been. And she usually found flaws. She had done this for years now, often with local teams who knew the area. Mostly she handled her own client bookings these days, but Colin Whitaker, head of the Loss Prevention Association, still threw the odd job her way now and then.

    The fact that she stood in the mezzanine of the hotel when Russell Grady showed up had been sheer happenstance.

    Her heart did a little pitter-patter as she saw him bent over the conference registration table. He wouldn’t recognize her—how could he? She looked different. She wore a tasteful designer suit that left the right things to the imagination. Her hair was auburn now, not mouse-brown, and she’d done just enough work on her jawline to make the jowls disappear.

    And that was assuming he remembered her. She was certain that to him, she was nothing more than a name on a file. A small victory in a career that needed victories. A day’s work.

    She remembered that day’s work, from the extra twist he’d used when he cuffed her to the painful pinch on her nipple outside of camera range as he moved her toward interrogation. Even in interrogation, he managed to brush parts he legally shouldn’t have had access to. And he put his doughy face too close to hers, breathing garlic on her from his cheap lunch, some of which was still stuck in his crooked teeth.

    He wore a bad suit back then, but he wore tailored now, something that took twenty pounds off his middle and made his sallow skin look a little healthier. But he was still a mean son of a bitch. That was evident in the smile he gave to the woman behind registration. The smile was narrow, and it never reached his beady little eyes.

    Carla watched from less than a yard away. She stood where she could see him from all angles—thank heavens for the hotel’s obsession with mirrors. She watched him take his conference badge and alligator-clip it to his lapel. That little movement, which could catch a thread and

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