Page 9 of G8
“Gimme the basics,” the sheriff ordered.
“She says her name is Ingrid Shyne. That’s shine with a Y instead of an I. She lives in Florentine.”
“Florentine?” Biggs glanced at G8, who remained silent but observant. “What else has she told you?”
“She said she used to work for Docenti Labs until a few days ago. She said she escaped there when the place was set on fire. That’s when she took the babies with her.” The woman deputy shrugged. “She hasn’t said much more, other than she brought them here because she claims they’re ‘cameras,’ or something like that. The same way G8 and his friends are.”
“Chimeras,” G8 corrected her. “Our genetic structure is vastly different from regular people.”
The sheriff narrowed his eyes. “Where are the babies?”
“Dodd called his wife. She’s in the lounge with them right now, taking care of them.”
Nodding, Biggs waved for G8 to follow him, and they continued toward the man’s office.
A single deputy was standing inside the door when they entered. G8 checked the man’s nameplate: D. CONNORS. He made the assumption that the D stood for Dodd, and it was his wife watching over the infants.
Biggs motioned for G8 to stand on the other side of the filing cabinet as he approached the young woman. “Miss Shyne?” He reached out to shake her hand, which she did. “I’m Sheriff Biggs. What can I do for you?” Instead of taking a seat behind his desk, he leaned against the front of it, crossed his legs at the ankles, and placed his hands on the desk behind him.
G8 took a casual stance against the filing cabinet. From this vantage point, he got a clear side view of the woman’s face. She was young. Definitely in her twenties. But if she used to work at the labs, he didn’t recall seeing her before. That didn’t mean she didn’t work there. Hell, there was a lot going on behind the scenes that he and P8 and the others had no idea existed until a few days ago.
The woman glanced over at him but there was no spark of recognition on her face, which told him she’d never seen him before either.Or maybe she doesn’t recognize this version of me,he mentally reminded himself.
“I used to work at Docenti Labs. I was in Section C, which included all viable offspring and fetuses created via the Chimera Project.”
“You said ‘used to work.’ What happened? What made you quit? Or were you let go?” Biggs questioned.
G8’s ears perked up. Milton had specifically informed the sheriff not a couple of minutes ago that there had been a fire. Yet Biggs was making it appear as if he was totally unaware of that information.
He smiled to himself. It was a tactic he was very familiar with. See if the person could keep their story straight, or if they embellished it after many tellings. It was a good way to catch frauds in their own traps.
“We weren’t let go. I was in the middle of filing a report when the fire alarm went off. My supervisor ran into the room and ordered me and another worker to wipe all the computer drives clean before we evacuated the premises.”
“Wipe all the computer drives?”
“Yes. Erase everything on them and then shut them down.”
“Why?”
The woman sighed. “I guess to get rid of all the data and information on them.”
“For what purpose?” Biggs pressed.
“I believe it’s because the higher-ups don’t want it to be known what we were doing. At least, that’s what I was thinking at the time.” The woman wasn’t backing down, and G8 got the impression she wasn’t making it up.
He eyed her profile. Her short, pale blonde hair. The way she clenched her jaws when she grew angrier.
The sheriff nodded. “Why don’t you start at the beginning of that day and bring me and my men up to snuff?’
She bowed her head slightly before taking a deep breath to steady herself and look back at him. “It was a normal day. I checked on the progress of each subject, including the two infants. It was barely nine in the morning. I’d gotten my first cup of coffee and went to file my own reports when the alarm sounded. My supervisor came rushing into the room and gave me my orders, so I…” She paused, and G8 felt the tension in the room heighten.
“I have a thumb drive that I use to store my reports on. I keep them on it because sometimes I get called away to do something. In the past, when I returned to finish them, I’d find someone had either deleted what I was working on, or the computer had updated and rebooted. Either way, I’d lost what I’d written and had to start all over again. So I’d gotten into the habit of saving my work on the drive and taking it with me whenever I had to leave the station.”
Shoving a hand inside her jeans pocket, she pulled out a piece of black plastic about two inches in length and less than a finger’s width. She held it up to show him. “This alone could get me locked up for the rest of my life. Or killed.”
Sheriff Biggs stared at the item but didn’t reach for it. “Okay. So you have this flash drive. Go on.”
“I saved what I could on it before I had the computer do a complete shut-down. In the meantime, I see all these people heading for the elevators.”
