Dealers' Choice - Susan Hayes Page 0,41

is armed to the teeth was never a good idea.

Both guards, one male, one female, eyed him with mild interest as he approached. When he got within twenty meters, the man stepped into his path. “This is a restricted area, sir. Please state your reason for being here, or turn back, now.”

“I know, I know. I’m looking for Dr. Virness.” He continued to approach, but more slowly. Fifteen meters. Ten. He stopped while he was still a few steps away.

“Does she know you’re trying to visit her?”

“No. She’s not answering her comms.”

“What’s the purpose of your visit?”

Ward pushed down a wave of annoyance and tried to look calm and nonthreatening, which wasn’t easy given he towered over the two human guards. “I’m concerned about her. We were out last night and I haven’t heard from her since. I checked her office, and she’s not there.”

The guards shared a look he couldn’t read.

“She’s usually pretty punctual, right? So you can see why I’m worried?”

The man shrugged, but the woman beside him gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I can buzz her quarters. See if she’s accepting visitors.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m going to need a name,” the woman prompted. Hutchings, according to the tag on her uniform,

“Oh, right. It’s Ward.”

“Is that your first or last name?”

“First. Don’t have a surname.”

She looked up, confused. “No?”

The male gestured to Ward dismissively. “He’s a cyborg. Machines don’t need last names.”

Ward’s hand twitched, reaching for the grip of a blaster he wasn’t carrying. He stilled his hand and swallowed the angry retort that sat on the tip of his tongue. He needed to find Xori, not pick a fight with a xenophobic asshole.

“Oh, sorry.” Hutchings flashed him an apologetic smile that seemed to be more about her partner’s behavior than her previous confusion. “Trying to contact her now.”

He wanted to pace, but he didn’t move a muscle while she tried to reach Xori. He was ready to scream by the time she shook her head and looked his way.

“She’s not answering.”

“So she’s not home. Which means you don’t need access.” The soldier’s tag showed his name was Masters.

Ward ignored him and looked to the helpful one. “Would you be able to check and see if she made it home last night? That information is recorded somewhere, right?”

“It is, but that’s classified info,” Masters said stiffly.

“I just need to know if she got back safely. That’s all. If she didn’t come back, then that’s something I’m pretty sure your supervisors are going to want to know about. Don’t you?”

“Check the log,” the man snapped at the woman. They were the same rank, so Ward figured it had to be a seniority thing. Petty asshole.

“On it.” Hutchings flashed the guy a look that could have melted the deck plating and started tapping away at her screen. She kept tapping, and every second that passed she pressed her lips a little tighter until they almost disappeared. “I don’t get it. There’s footage of her leaving yesterday evening with a facial recognition scan to confirm her identity, but the footage I have of her returning is…weird, and there’s no facial recognition confirmation code attached.”

“I didn’t know you guys did that confirmation thing. And what do you mean, the footage is weird?” Why would someone fake her return? What the fraxx was going on, and where was Xori.

“You’re not supposed to know about the scans,” Masters muttered. “No one’s supposed to know about that, right, Hutchings?”

The woman shot him a baleful look. “His girlfriend is missing. He’s worried, and judging from what I’m seeing, he’s got good reason to be.” She gestured to the screen. “The doctor left wearing a silver dress and fancy shoes. When she comes back, she’s still wearing the same shoes, and it looks like she came on foot. There’s no way she’d have walked any distance in those without limping at least a little, they’re not made for that kind of wear.”

When both men just stared at her, she shrugged. “Trust me. They’re not. There are other details too. Her hair is still pinned up, exactly like it was when she left. Not a strand out of place. Plus, look at her hand. She looks like she’s holding something, but there’s nothing there. If I were coming back after a late night of fun? My hair would be down and I’d be carrying my shoes.”

“You think this footage is fake?” Ward asked.

Hutchings nodded. “I think this is footage is from when she left. Someone doctored it and inserted it

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