Hatched

Chapter Nine

June 29th, 2021

1500 hours

Garcia stood awkwardly in the bright autopsy room, clad from head to toe in sterile gear: robes, slippers, the works. He inwardly cursed that damn FBI agent what's his name for sticking him on demolition duty. Leave it to the government trained suits to delegate the less appealing tasks to the general police force. Quinn, meanwhile, had negated to accompany him, electing to remain at the site and question the witnesses instead.

Garcia, despite having the best interrogative technique in the county, was not particularly miffed about being shuffled off to the morgue. True, he would much rather gather information to build up a profile, that he might form some sort of order from the chaotic pieces that were whirling around his brain. He didn't enjoy overseeing the autopsies, and he desperately wanted to close this case, but he figured he would leave the eccentrics of it to the master of strange, himself.

Quinn was an oddity immediately in Garcia's eyes. From the moment they shook hands he detected an unpalatable, jovial sort of arrogance that didn't sit well with him. Garcia was down to earth, honest, and harshly blunt. In contrast, Quinn spoke in serpentine riddles, hinting at a sort of mental game-play in which Garcia had no intention of participating. The agent was very wise, witty, and maddeningly superior.

The lieutenant imagined such a personality stemmed from a highly studied, well versed and impeccably trained background. However, he refused to acknowledge his short-comings in comparison to the skilled agent. Though he would have willingly agreed to preside over the autopsy, what angered him was Quinn's snide remark about trigger happy, impulsively ignorant, law enforcement buffoons. Garcia replied with several choice expletives, knowing it would effectively land himself in the morgue for the day. It got him away from the suits, which was his intent. Quinn wasn't the only one who could play games.

"Uh," he said tentatively through his mask "are we going to start soon?"

The M.E. chuckled slightly, his lined eyes crinkling merrily behind his goggles. "Yes, very shortly. Do you have a sensitive stomach, Detective?"

"Not usually." He responded gruffly, glancing at the eerily still figure on the table.

"Good." The medical examiner spoke cordially. "Nice to meet you, by the way, Lieutenant."

Garcia huffed sarcastically. "Sure. Under less morbid circumstances, I imagine you're a joy. I might take you for a drink after."

Shari, the usual M.E., was on an extended sabbatical, and Garcia missed her like a stiff drink. She and the Lieutenant had a rather long, torrid history, but it didn't stop them from upholding the statue of professionalism in the office. Out of the office, however, was a different story. In one another they found a convoluted solace from the weighing grind of crime and despair. Shari was open and real, and Garcia admired the simplicity of knowing someone so genuine.

This M.E. had been discrete, not at all forthcoming about his experience, only vaguely hinting where he'd come from. Apart from his name, he withheld isolating details about himself, and based on this, Garcia highly suspected that he had been secretly placed there by Quinn Jones. He didn't presume to put it past Quinn to infiltrate every aspect of the investigation. He had a very controlling, dominating demeanor, and indicated he had no intention of leaving any stone unturned-with his approval, of course, and only through his own means.

Garcia imagined he should be grateful Quinn included him in that assessment, but it only served to piss him off more. Perhaps it had been a nicety, though Garcia seriously doubted it. Quinn might have simply been under the impression he could, through the Lieutenant, control the involvement of the local task force. Which was laughable, of course, considering the track record of the precinct, and with good reason: Garcia personally knew officers who'd taken bribes, and it wasn't hard to inspire them to turn a cheek with a few crisp bills. He did, conversely, consider himself honest, and never stooped to the level some of the others would. He did, after all, uphold the sanctity of justice.