Hatched

Chapter Twelve

June 30th, 2021

0600 hours

Robyn was sound asleep on her couch when an earth shattering crash brought her to her feet, adrenaline instantly coursing through her, ready to strike. Faint purple hues cast across the beach house walls: the sun was just rising over the horizon, and she'd only been out for a few hours. Her exploration of the stolen samples had been meticulous, and it had taken hours to piece together and scour the information she needed to continue her research. It took even longer to prepare cross sections and get them ready for processing. Exhaustion at bay, she'd discovered a kind of thrill in the crime that overshadowed her sense of morality. In the moment, it had been easy to forget that she was doing anything wrong, and the feeling lasted long after, preventing her mind from easing into a restful sleep. She blinked the blurriness from her vision, adjusting to the dim light. In the obscurity of the room, she could see faint shadows through the windows of people milling about outside.

A shrill whoop from a police car sounded, and suddenly the room spilled over with spotlights, the red and blue car lights flashing across her face through the blinds.

Robyn's heart pounded with premonition. She had covered her tracks well and wiped down any prints she might have left at the museum. Every piece and file, aside from the duplicates she'd stolen, were positioned exactly as they had been, each sample intact and undisturbed. Groaning, she remembered that in her incensed state she'd forgotten about the security cameras, and they must have discovered her breaking into the facility on the video feed. Of course Quinn would have access to it: he seemed to have snaked his way into everything.

Before she had time to blindly creep toward the front door, it came bursting in at her, splinters of wood and sand flying in every direction. Throwing her arms up in defense, she scrambled backward, legs thumping into fabric as they came to rest against the armchair.

"Hands in the air!" A boyish voice cried, and she raised her trembling arms above her head.

Another deeper, more gravelly voice rumbled in annoyance. "You're supposed to say who you are, Barnes."

"Right. This is the police!" The other voice shouted, waving his light frantically in Robyn's face.

Squinting in frustration, she glowered at the cops. "Barnes, is it?" She huffed, keeping her hands up where they could see them. "I will cooperate, but please get that damn light out of my eyes."

She could barely make out the sheepish look on the guy's face as he lowered the flashlight. "Sorry." He apologized.

After blinking the brilliant halos from her vision, she could see them more clearly: one was thin, young, and novice-looking, the other larger, much older, and rougher. His lined face was clearly marked with the knowledge of time and experience, the other's still boyish and naïve.

"Alright, then, Miss." The officer grumbled, pulling a set of cuffs from his pocket. Robyn pulled her hands slowly behind her back, where he proceeded to secure them. The cold metal bit into her skin as he tightened them. "I'm Lieutenant Garcia. You have the right to-" he began, but she cut him off.

"Yeah, remain silent and all that jazz."

"Now look, it's my job to read your rights."

"Skip the foreplay, and just take me in." Robyn huffed.

The older cop glared at her, but she held his gaze evenly. "He told me you'd be a difficult one." He mused, pulling her up and plopping her unsteadily on the chair. Robyn deepened her glare. "Stay there." He looked around, searching for the light switch, and finding it upon the far wall, flooded the room with blinding light. "Barnes, watch her while I search the house."