Excerpt: Swashbuckling for Love and Profit

After a moment of hesitation, Jenna pulled out her phone. She flipped through her address book, finger hovering over the send button. She scrolled down several names. It would go easier if she called Matt first. He knew how to keep the Captain from freaking out. Usually. Sometimes. Well, he was better at it than anyone else was, which was really the best Jenna could hope for.

Matt picked up on the third ring.

"My alarm goes off in less than four hours. If you're drunk calling me, I will hunt you down and kill you."

"Matty, it's me."

There was an irritated snort on the other end of the line. "Don't think you're exempt just because you can kick my ass in a fair fight. I don't fight fair, and you know it."

"Matt," Jenna said, "shut up for a second and listen. I think I might be in real trouble, here."

The sound of rustling sheets, and then, "Fuck. You didn't pick up another stalker, did you? 'Cause I've gotta tell you, Jen--"

"It's not that. I'm at The Westlake. I've sort of got a problem."

"What kind of problem?" There was no mistaking the the suspicion in Matt's voice.

"A body," Jenna said. "A dead body," she clarified when there was no answer on the other end of the line.

"You have a dead body," Matt said, not sounding entirely convinced.

"Yes. Well, it's not... I don't have it exactly, but..."

Another long pause, then, "Can you dump it somewhere?"

"What? No! Matt, be serious, here."

Matt sighed. "I thought I was being serious."

"It's in the middle of the fucking dance floor," Jenna explained, at once aware of the hysteria in her own voice and yet unable to stop it. "And anyway, I'm not about to fucking dump a fucking body, okay?"

"All right," Matt said. "All right, let's try to look at this thing logically. Who was this dead body before it was dead?"

"I'm not really sure of her name," Jenna answered uncomfortably.

"If you didn't know her, what's the problem."

"Someone saw us together right before she collapsed. If this is anything other than totally on the up and up, that's going to put me right at the center of a police investigation."

"Jen." Matt's tone was soothing. "Even if you were talking to this woman, that doesn't mean anyone's going to assume you knew her. You're at a dance club. People talk to strangers at dance clubs. It's nothing uncommon."

"Yeah, see, when I said someone saw us together, I didn't mean they saw us talking."

"You weren't talking," Matt repeated.

"Um. No."

"Do I even want to know?"

"We were sort of having sex at the time," Jenna explained quickly. "Me and thhe dead woman. Who wasn't dead when it happened. Because that would be gross. Really, really... You know, I'm going to stop talking, now."

"Jen?"

"Yeah?" she answered weakly.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Matt said, "because you know I love you dearly, but you are the worst career felon ever."