Spilling Guts

Part 38 - Guilty Party

The ice pack had gotten soggy, leaving Megan's sock damp. She had to fully unlace her shoe to fit around her swollen foot. Teegan held an arm around her shoulder as she limped into the Denver police station.

"Should we call Rachel and set up an x-ray for when we get back to the Watch?" asked Teegan.

Megan hissed, frustrated with the situation and how long their day was going. "Let me have a few Advil and more ice before we call her. We'll be here for a while."

Detective Lee met Megan and Teegan in the vestibule, an ice pack of his own pressed to his forehead, and led them to the technology division where half of Jared Rover's laptop was wired up to various screens and cords.

"Mind if we let our people help with the search?" Teegan held out her tablet and a few cords. "They can work on this remotely."

Lee looked over at his people, and they shrugged. "As long as they don't move or delete anything. And you fill out the paperwork."

They left the tablet hooked up to the laptop and messaged the Hive to do their thing.

Anything to keep the Hive from lighting incense for Grant, thought Megan. Fire drills are a pain.

An hour and a half (and two cans of Lee's shared green tea) later, Megan and Teegan wrapped up the paperwork required for a now spiraling down co-investigation and sent copies back to the Watch. Paperwork followed Watch agents everywhere. Thankfully, an officer had given Megan an extra cushioned footstool to elevate her leg, and a fresh ice pack.

However, the hour under ice had done little for Megan's foot. She kept a death grip on Teegan's helping arm. She hoped it was just a bruise. If the asshole whining to himself in the interrogation room had broken her foot, she would have some "words". And two more Advil.

Detective Lee's corner of the police station was quiet. Probably because Detective Lee was quiet, eyeing Jared Rover through the one-way observation window of the interrogation room. Megan imagined he wanted to have some "words" as well if the large welt on Lee's forehead felt half as bad as her foot.

Rover sat at the table, slumped like a pile of dirty laundry, and a plastic cup empty by his elbow. Whatever energy drink he had been sipping at the Net-Inn had worn off, leaving him to the mercy of dehydration, a bare room, and a hard chair bolted to the floor. A set of handcuffs kept his left hand tethered to the seat. They could hear him and his complaints through a speaker, but he could not hear them.

"I need more water!" grumbled Rover from the room.

"How long has he been in there?" asked Megan.

"Two hours," said Lee. "Proofing the dough."

"Sourdough." Megan grimaced, taking an offered folding chair and sitting. She would have to get used to sitting. The Watch agents that dreaded her and Teegan's combat seminars would be ecstatic. "Lawyer?"

"Hasn't asked for one, but I'm making sure ours is ready to take down what he says and keep it written in stone." Lee checked his watch. "There are a lot of night owl lawyers on standby, so I don't see why he hasn't."

"Dumb or overconfident," said Teegan. "By the way, what was in those video files that convinced you about Rover?"

"You'll find out when my partner and I question him," said Lee.

Megan sighed. She hated manufactured suspense; it's why she could never stand watching reality television.

Detective Carla Carter, Lee's partner, approached and put away her phone. She was a spry, short woman in a gray suit with short brown hair; a person who rarely stuck out in a crowd and knew how to listen. She held up a folder. "We have the photos ready."