"This is ridiculous," she muttered, leaning forward to unclip her gun from the back of her belt. She thumped it down on the desk with her badge, then undid her wristcom and dropped it beside them. "I should have let him bite me. Then maybe someone would believe me."
The captain made no reply. He slid a piece of paper across the desk. "They want you to undergo psych evaluation. Here are the appointment details. I advise you not to miss it. Your job may depend on it."
"I'm not crazy," she said softly. Beginning to get as mad as hell, maybe, but not crazy.
"It's standard procedure, Ryan."
No, it wasn't, and they both knew it. She leaned forward and picked up the paper. On it was a name, section and time, but beneath it, he'd written a note. Don't fight this. The suspension order came from the top, and there's nothing either of us can do about it. Use the time to find out what really happened to Jack. Go after those who did this to him.
She glanced up, and met the captain's gaze. After a moment, she nodded and folded the paper, shoving it inside her jacket. "That appointment is with the SIU. I didn't know they'd taken over psych evaluations."
"Your claim that Jack was a vampire forced us to report it. They're taking over these types of investigations from now on."
"But why is the spook squad doing the psych evaluation as well?"
He shrugged. "Maybe they want to make sure no hidden prejudices are behind this."
"Meaning someone, somewhere, must believe my statement that Jack was a vampire."
"Or maybe they want to ensure you're not seeing bogeys where there are none." He hesitated. "It's not exactly a state secret that vampires are not on your list of favorite people."
No, it wasn't. But that wasn't what this was about. Nor was it the reason Jack now lay on a slab ten floors below them. He was dead simply because he'd tried to kill her.
And as the captain had pointed out, she now had the time to find out why.
But she had an awful feeling the answers to many of the questions surrounding Jack's death would not be found on the streets, but rather here, in the pristine halls of Central Security. An area that was now out of bounds until she was reinstated.
"You'd better go, Ryan. The SIU do not like to be kept waiting."
She grimaced. "See you around, Cap."
He nodded and began rifling through some papers on his desk. Knowing a dismissal when she saw one, she turned and walked through the door. Surprisingly, security wasn't waiting beyond the door to escort her to her desk and ensure she took nothing more than personal belongings. In the corridor itself, people walked up and down, going about their daily business as if nothing untoward had happened, yet not one of them would meet her eyes. She shook her head, wondering why she was so surprised. She'd shot one of their own, her partner no less. The ultimate no-no in any law enforcement community. The reason behind her action didn't matter to them. She'd crossed a line and would always be judged because of it.
She passed several doors until she came to the office she'd shared with Jack. "Lights," she said, hesitating in the doorway.
A muted glow warmed the room. Jack's desk was as he'd left it. She hadn't touched it simply because she'd always thought he'd be back. She blinked back the sudden sting of tears and glanced across at the clock on her desk. Eight minutes left to find some sort of clue.
She sat down on his chair and rifled through the papers on his desk. Nothing caught her eye. But then, had she really expected a clue to be so easy to find?
"Computer on."
The screen hummed to life. "Voice identification required," stated a soft, sultry voice.
Jack had always preferred his computers to have a feminine touch, where as her preference leaned towards cartoons. Dizzy Izzy, a hot pink fur-ball that had become the newest rage on the cartoon front, was the voice of her com-unit here, while the old Warner Classic, Marvin the Martian, was the current face of her home units.
"Samantha Ryan. Badge number MSF 1079."
"Voice verified. Request?"
"Diary entries for the tenth of May, two-o-four-seven."
"A password is needed before request can be processed."
She frowned. Since when had Jack begun putting security codes on his files? "Suzy."
"Access denied."
Maybe his badge number. "MSF 1045."