Maybe his badge number. “MSF 1045.”
“Access denied.”
She swore softly. The password could literally be anything. She frowned, trying to think back to the day he’d disappeared, trying to remember something, anything, that might provide a clue. “What about … vampire?”
“Access denied.”
“Afterlife.”
“Access denied.”
“Fuck,” she muttered, and leaned back in the chair. She had to get what she could now, or she’d lose out. Once official word got around about her suspension, she’d be escorted from the premises and not allowed back in.
The computer hummed silently. “Access granted.”
She blinked in surprise, then shook her head and smiled ruefully. Trust Jack to use a password like that.
“Transfer all personal files and diaries to outlink 1097. Security access one.”
“Transfer proceeding.”
What else might she need? She tapped her lip for a moment, staring at the screen. “Are there transcripts of phone calls for May tenth?”
“I have five on record.”
“Were those all the calls for that day?” Jack had been something of a whiz at getting around official protocol, especially when it came to calls he didn’t want recorded.
“Two were not recorded.”
No real surprise there. Jack loved horse racing, and over the years he had lost a fair bit of money to the bookmakers—legal and otherwise. It was a practice that was officially frowned upon, and it would have meant instant dismissal if anyone else had found out. “You have the numbers?”
“Yes.”
“Send those and the five transcripts to outlink 1097. Security access one.”
“Transfer proceeding.”
She glanced across at the time. Damn, she was late. “Computer, complete transfer, then close.”
“Transfer complete. Have a good day.” A happy face appeared on the screen as the computer shut down. Smiling, she opened the drawers and grabbed Jack’s spare wristcom. Hers would probably be decommissioned right away, but with Jack’s death not yet officially recorded, both his units would still be viable.
She rose and moved across to her desk, quickly gathering the few personal items she cared about—her Marvin the Martian clock, and the big old china mug that Jack had given her their first Christmas as partners—and shoved them into a bag as she walked across to the door.
But at the doorway, she hesitated and glanced back. She’d spent a lot of happy times in this office, laughing and caring and fighting. And she had an odd feeling she wouldn’t be back to see it again. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away quickly.
“Lights off,” she whispered. As the room fell into darkness, she added. “ ’Bye, Jack.”
Turning away, she headed for the elevators and her appointment with the SIU.
GABRIEL GLANCED UP AS A young doctor entered his office, carrying a bundle of printouts. After pressing a button on the com-screen to black out the screen but not the sound, Gabriel relaxed back in his chair. “Are those the test results for Officer Ryan, Finley?”
The young doctor nodded and collapsed onto the only chair in the room that was free of books. “Christ, I’m exhausted. I don’t know how that woman is surviving, given she’s had so little sleep over the last twenty-four hours.”
“With Kazdan as a partner, I guess she’d have to be pretty tough.” He nodded toward the papers. “What are the results?”
“Well, she’s not crazy, but she does hold some deep-seated prejudices against vampires. So deep I doubt even she knows why.”
“They’re not the results I was talking about.”