breath. She pulled her scarf higher and hurried to her RAV-4. After removing the snow and ice from it and then warming her freezing hands, she backed out of the parking space for her dreaded drive to the police station.
The slushy roads made her uncomfortable. She drove the speed limit which aggravated other drivers who beeped and flew by her. When had it become the law that the speed limit was the minimum acceptable speed on the roads, even in inclement weather? She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her body tense and determined. They could get angry all they wanted. She preferred not to be in an accident.
During the drive, she’d realized that by avoiding police officers after the fallout of her investigation, she’d relied solely on press releases and her sources for information on Magic Shop. She needed to find the right policeman to help her investigation, someone not on the Magician’ s payroll.
That was easier said than done. She couldn’t just up and ask for help and then add, “Oh by the way, are you on the take?” A snort escaped her. That’d go over well.
But how would she find the good ones? She didn’t have time to investigate them all.
She caught sight of one of the vehicles that had beeped and passed her now on the side of the road. She bit her tongue to keep from laughing.
See, buddy, that’s why I’m driving slowly
and carefully.
She pulled into the police station parking lot and restrained the strong urge to flee. All she had to do was put the car in drive and go. She shook her head and let out a weighty sigh. She could do this. She had to do this.
The noise hit her upon entering the station. The smell of unwashed, sweaty bodies followed. She didn’t know whether to use her hands to cover her ears or to hold her nose closed.
She walked across the lobby. Her throat constricted. Kristen actually trusted these two which should have relieved her, since her boss didn’t care for policemen altogether. How would they receive her? Would they try to find a way to ruin her career because she’d exposed a few brutal officers?
The investigation two years earlier had destroyed her relationship with the police department. Reports of police brutality going unpunished found its way to her desk. Appalled, she had immediately immersed herself into the investigation. The more she’d dug into the story, the greater her disgust with the department.
It hadn’t surprised her that reports from the alleged victims had disappeared. The police hadn’t realized that less paperwork never stopped a reporter. There’s always a way to find the truth.
Early in her investigation, the officers involved found out about it. Driving home one day, she’d been pulled over for driving three miles over the speed limit. She’d driven away with a ticket stating she’d been twenty miles over the limit and a threat. They didn’t get it. A good reporter didn’t let go of their story because they received a threat. That meant someone was scared, there was something there. That made the hunt even better.
It’d been a front page story. She’d named the six police officers who’d allegedly beaten their suspects into confessions. They were immediately suspended. After a long police investigation, they were charged with numerous counts of police brutality and fired. Megan had considered it a job well done.
She’d worried about some type of retaliation, but nothing had happened. She later found out they’d been warned that if anything did happen to her, the ex-officers would be relentlessly pursued. The day the final man left town had been a day of celebration for her. The first day she’d let her guard down when she stepped outside. The first day she’d felt free again.
Now she’d angered them again. Megan knew she should’ve reported to the police what she’d witnessed on the streets. She’d considered it, but had immediately dismissed it. They’d have suppressed the story. Now she’d pay for it,