Chapter Twenty-one
1539 Words
Right. It's not the University's job to protect the evidence that we brought in. So George made a phone call to the Chief, and he is sending a couple of patrol officers over to stand guard over the laboratory. The officers will be on a rotation schedule until the results come in.
“Hey, you still have more of that stuff?” Professor Bryant asked Hanna.
“Yes. Do you need me to make you more?” she questioned him back. “I've already contacted my foster father on sending you your own.”
“Please,...and thank you,” he forced out. Hanna knew that he was only showing politeness because of the current company. She nodded and made her way back again to the small room with the cabinet. She discarded her gloves, washed her hands, and pulled the box out of the cabinet. She placed a new pair of gloves on her hands and preceded to make the tincture in the same manner as before. Needless to say, we all reacted to the smell of that. Yuck!
“What the hell is that?!” Cass yelled out holding her nose. We all, well most of us, did the same as well.
“It's just a tincture to help alleviate certain symptoms.” Hanna casually answered seemingly unfazed by the odor. She poured the contents into another clean mug and gave it to the Professor. Okay, so she can handle smelling that nasty stuff, but not a dumpster? Now, I'm confused.
“What's it made out of?” My curiosity got the better of me.
“Uhm, beneficial herbs and roots,” the Professor recalled taking another sip. Brave man.
“Beneficial herbs?” I inquired with an eyebrow arched. I've heard that line before.
“It's nothing nefarious, Sergeant! Seriously, ugh,” she explained, rolling her eyes, obviously frustrated. “Why do you LEOs assume that it's only that particular “herb” and not anything else? There are other botanical plants one should also be wary of, in case you've forgotten. My Uncle Mac is a certified herbalist. He would never be involved with illicit drugs.”
“My apologies, Miss Grimm,” I said holding up my hands in defense.
“Ahem,” Dr. Frederickson cleared his throat. “Would it be within the proper protocol for Miss Grimm to lift off Professor Bryant's DNA from the mug? If it's okay with him of course? No warrant needed? I wouldn't like to see one of my professors arrested for a crime he didn't commit.”
“I can do better than that,” the Professor smart-mouthed off. He grabbed a test tube and preceded to spit directly into it. Disgusting. No warrant is needed. It has definitely been a long day for all of us.
“A swab to the mouth would have been better,” Hanna smart-mouthed back.
“So would a fist,” I silently muttered to myself.
“Perhaps it would have, Miss Grimm,” the Professor hissed at his assistant. He placed the filled tube in her extended palm. She did her work with so much efficiency that the next thing I knew was that the tubes were whirling around in some time type of machine.
“Okay, I'm out of here,” Hanna insisted as she tried to make her way to the door.
“Miss Grimm, one moment before you storm out,” Patrick Bryant called out to her.
Taking a deep sigh, she stopped and turned back around toward him. We were all getting ready to leave as well. Should we stay or should we go? This is getting awkward fast.
“What is it now, Professor?” she said in a tired voice.
“Those memory cards you collected this morning, remember?”
“Yeah, what about them?”
“I need your keen eyesight to look at one of them, please,” he insisted.
“I'm tired, Professor Bryant. I can not guarantee any “keenness” as to where my eyesight is concerned. What's this about anyway?”
“Actually, if the Sergeant wouldn't mind sticking around also, perhaps he could lend his eyes to this inquiry as well?” the Professor put forth the challenge.
“What the hell are you up to?” Hanna asked directly.
“You'll see. Get your laptop out, please, Miss Grimm,” he spoke almost tauntingly. “Well, Sergeant, you game?” Nothing like being put on the spot? I look to Cass for any help. She's just as flabbergasted as I am. Looks like I have no choice here.
“Sure. I'm “game”. What's this about anyway? I reluctantly answered back.
Hanna begrudgingly made her way back to her small desk. She unlocked a drawer and pulled out the laptop and its plug. She fired it up and plugged it in. When it was fully ready, she logged back on to it.
“Please, have it face us,” the Professor ordered. She turned it around to face everyone.
He reached in his front pocket and pulled out one of the memory cards. Hanna took it out of his hand and placed it into the slot. She opened the file from the card. Professor Bryant then fast-forwarded the video to the time slot in question. He then pressed play. We all looked at the screen and watched:
Footage from memory card: Last night at 2347 hours--
The evening dew could be seen in the form of a gloomy mist. It hovered
over the ground cover like an ominous presence. Everything looked quiet,
except for some movement coming from a large group of foliage. Then within
a fraction of a nanosecond, a black blip blocked the view. It disappeared as
quickly as it showed up. However, after it left, the usual nighttime sounds
and movements were resumed.
End of footage.
There is no freaking way that I just saw what I just saw! Every fiber of my being knows exactly what that is. I know my own kind. What the hell? If there is more footage from the other cameras, this could prove to be disastrous to all of the wolfdom. I may need to take a look at where exactly these cameras are placed, for my own personal investigation.
“So, tell me, what the hell was that?” the Professor challenged, looking at all of us.
“What was what?” Hanna retorted back. “You're getting worked up over barely a nanosecond of footage? For what?”
With determination in his eyes, the Professor blurted out, “It's a Werewolf, Hanna. We finally have proof. They do in fact exist.”
“You can't be serious?! Are you actually willing to throw away your career and credibility as a Biologist over a mythological creature?” Hanna yelled at him. “I'm not even going to entertain your line of thinking. I'm tired and I'm going home.” She began to move towards the door again.
“They exist, Hanna,” the Professor insisted. “That footage right there!” He pointed toward the laptop.
Hanna stopped in her tracks, turned to the Professor, and remarked, “You have zero solid evidence. There were no signs of anything being in that area when I retrieved the cards this morning. You know that's also part of the assignment. Gathering whatever evidence of any animal in the areas near the cameras. A nanosecond of blurry footage will not hold up in front of a group of peers. You know that, Professor Bryant. Genetically speaking they simply can not exist. Now, please drop it so we can all go home!”
“What do you think about the footage, Sergeant? Aren't detectives supposed to have keen observational skills as well?” Patrick Bryant taunted again. I wish he had just dropped this tirade already.
“Um, I--” I began.
“Ignore him, Sergeant, please. He's clearly not in his proper faculties. Dr. Frederickson, please help end this mockery of science,” Hanna begged.
“She's correct Patrick. You're not operating clearly with all of your faculties. And I've never known you to take any interest in cryptozoology. This show is over,” the Dean stated stepping in and taking charge. He shut down the laptop. “I see that a couple of patrol officers have arrived to stand guard. Let's leave them to their jobs, shall we?”
Once we all exited the laboratory, Hanna re-locked the door. The two patrol officers took their posts on opposite sides of it. And finally, the small crowd meandered their way back to the stairwell and out towards the parking lot.
“Thank you, again, Dr. Frederickson. For everything,” I said in sincerity extending my hand to him once again.
“Not a problem, Sergeant. It was my pleasure to help,” he replied taking my hand and giving me a pat on my shoulder as well. I remember my father doing that.
Upon reaching their vehicles, Hanna turned to Patrick and said, “Be careful going home.”
“You too,” he mumbled ever so quietly. They both got into their rides and drove off.
- Writer
