Teegan put the phone away and crossed off "call Louis for Devil N. update". As she and Megan went through theories and trail's of possible investigation for their photo, Teegan wrote them down for follow up. When they couldn't spin anymore theories, Teegan did the duty of the navigator and delegated.
Parker Lenore's email address had been sent to Grant and his hive in Comp Tech to look into any identity theft, as well as bank, housing, and employment records. Another thread was cast out to search for anyone named Jared in those records.
Teegan flicked her tablet to show another one of the photos taken from Retten's nest. Louis in a fall jacket, sipping coffee with a small smile.
"You feel bad that we're keeping Louis out of the loop?" asked Teegan.
Megan kept her eyes on the road, but her grip on the wheel said volumes. "Technically we're following Bossman's orders."
"His reasoning was he didn't want Louis going solo after Retten, right?"
"Yeah."
"Hell of a way to say you don't trust someone."
***
The lab was chaos, and every bit of it aggravated Rachel. Between setting up three different cameras for motion capture, blocking out black and white grid-paper, and getting an actual clapperboard thanks to Franklin, Rachel figured out the real reason Harrison wanted her to do those tests. Because the set-up was tedious as a toothpick tower. She wanted her neat and tidy lab back.
Rachel held up three cords that came from the back of the standing pressure plate she had yet to calibrate, and none of them were labeled. Harrison can go suck on a sharpie.
The lab door opened.
"I hope you're here to help," said Rachel, not looking to the doorway.
"One, I hit my head and need ice," said Louis, dumping an armful of notes and a tablet on an empty patch of lab counter. "And two, I just had an incident."
Rachel's eyes brightened. The calibrations could wait. "You shrank?"
"Yeah."
"For how long?"
"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes?" Louis gestured to a purpling spot just beyond his hairline. "Hitting my head a priority at all, doctor?"
"I can get you a bag of ice. But you know the routine." Rachel moved a pair of boxing gloves off one of her chairs and held out an armband. "Sit."
"Again?"
"Yes, you just came out of a shrinking episode and I'd like to get as much data as possible, so get on the chair and put on the band. Unless you're that eager to get back to your inbox?"
Louis opened his mouth, about to retort, and then thought better of it. He sat hard enough to have the chair legs squeak on the tile, and slipped the band up to his bicep. The band inflated to check pulse and blood pressure.
"So we're calling them "episodes" now?"
Rachel stabbed a chopstick at the edges of her lab freezer, collecting icy shrapnel in a plastic bag. "What would you rather I call them?"
"I don't know. Ask Will; he'll come up with something appropriately nerdy."
Rachel handed over the ice and then passed a wand over his forehead. "Temperature checks out okay. Would you say you are at rest?"
"As restful as I can with the day I'm having."
Rachel glanced at the readout from the armband on her tablet. "Have anything salty for lunch?"
أنت تقرأ
Spilling Guts
خيال علمي4 in the Getting In Deep series. LGBTQ, Thriller, Sci-Fi, vore. Agents Will and Louis are on desk duty until Dr. Milton Balcuwitz can sooth their partnership. Therapy goes slow and Louis reopens the cold case on the Devil's Neckbrace to distract hi...
