7

21 2 0
                                    


MacCready had forgotten about the holotape when he reached Goodneighbor until he was turning out his pockets to pay his bar tab before Whitechapel Charlie introduced him to a gentleman with a sledgehammer. Once settled back into the VIP lounge he turned it in his fingers. He could picture her as though she were right in front of him, remembering the look in her eyes.

"Hey Doc, don't mean to bother you but I have a favor to ask."

MacCready didn't much care for the Memory Den. Memories were nice but that was all they were. Some things he'd prefer to forget but every now and then he considered sitting in one of the loungers to look back at his most treasured moments- the younger children who looked up to him back at Little Lamplight. Meeting Lucy, asking her to be his wife, her telling him she thought she might be pregnant. Holding Duncan the first time. No. There was no use dwelling in the past.

Dr. Amari didn't look up. "A favor? I don't know how I could possibly help you but ask away."

"It's nothing huge, I just need to borrow your terminal for a bit."

Now he had her attention. "I have to monitor the Memory Den clients. I'm sorry, no."

At his miffed expression Amari sighed a little. "What for?"

MacCready held up the holotape. "I need to look at this. Just really quick."

"What's on it?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it's important."

Amari held up her hands in protest. "Then it's a solid no. It could have corrupted data on it and I can't risk my clients."

MacCready sighed. "That's fair."

"What's that you got there, sweetheart?" Irma asked. "Amari's right but if you want you can use my terminal. Just don't go snooping around."

He followed her to the old backstage area. "You're a doll, Irma. Thank you."

"No problem. Let me just enter the password here. There you go."

Pulling up a chair MacCready loaded up the holotape and sat down. No audio files to be found. It's some kind of journal. Evidence she was compiling. His eyes flew across the screen skimming the green text. She said she learned nothing. Why would she lie? To protect me?

A name kept appearing.
Beau.

A man matching Beau's description spotted near Goodneighbor. Near Quincy. Near Lexington. No sign of Knight Davenport. He recalled when they met, she'd said someone is pinning their crimes on me. That Knight Rhys had come and arrested her. Why did she give him this, why not bring it with her? A few sightings wasn't exactly hard evidence but it was more than she had.

MacCready's jaw tightened as he read and read. What I need, he thought, is a real detective. Shutting down the terminal he pocketed the holotape.
"Thanks, Irma."
He rushed out the door without another word.

A hand mirror came into his view and MacCready took it, inspecting John's work. His beard had become unruly in these past weeks and a clean up while in town distracted him a bit, long enough to clear his head. He handed the mirror back.
"Looks great. Thanks again."

Rising from the barber chair MacCready set his hat back on his head and waved to John and his mother Cathy, setting down the street. The neon pink heart flickered in the dim light. Just as MacCready reached for the door it burst open and a ghoul man crashed into his shoulder without so much as an apology.
"Hey, watch where you're going!" He shouted but the ghoul didn't even so much as give him a backward glance. Jerk.

Deuces Are WildWhere stories live. Discover now