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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Audrik" data-source="post: 7329161" data-attributes="member: 73653">The Bedford Project - Session 1eNothing about this damned town added up, and it was creeping him out. Never mind that he wasn’t really a Police fan either.Porter and Dempsey had followed Atwood through Bedford but continued on when the behavioral analyst stopped at the diner. Dempsey drove while Porter searched the internet for nearby lodging. Both agents got the same vibe as Atwood did from the cameras and electric eyes, so they didn’t want to take a chance on staying in town. Just across the state border, a real estate company in Hopkins, Missouri was running a deal on a few fully-furnished houses where the cost to rent one for a month was less than the hotels in town were charging for a week. There was no contest.Dempsey dropped Porter off at an Enterprise Rent-A-Car before heading off to close the deal on a safe house. Porter paid cash for his rental car and immediately headed back toward Bedford. On the way, he called the sheriff’s office. He told Sheriff Taylor his name was Walter Scott – a lie backed up by a full set of false identification in his briefcase – and he was an attorney representing the Badagian family. He would be in town later in the day to perform his duties for the family; claiming the personal effects, reviewing the official reports from the coroner and police, examining the vehicle, ensuring the body is cremated in accordance with the family’s wishes, etc … Once the call was done, he popped the battery and sim card out of his phone. Something about that town didn’t sit well with him, and the fact that the most recent death was someone inspecting the telecom network, he wasn’t taking any chances.Porter’s face-to-face meeting with the sheriff went well. Woody was a nice guy and seemed willing to help. And yet, some of his answers weren’t acceptable to the NSA agent. Sure, the investigation could take a while, but it really shouldn’t. Today was Saturday. Why would he have to wait until Tuesday to collect the body? A homecoming game. Really? So what if the entire town supported their high school. The sheriff had a job to do. Porter wasn’t happy, and he pressed the sheriff to accelerate his timeline. Sheriff Taylor said he would try, but a big city lawyer just had to accept the realities of small-town life. The Bulldogs were a big deal in this town, and homecoming and the Corn Queen Pageant might slow the investigation just a bit.Atwood decided he would get a room at the Skylark Motel. He didn’t want to stay, but he was a little paranoid, and he wanted to stay in character. A sign on the desk politely requested “three forms of ID for personal checks,” so naturally, he paid cash. Even still, the transaction was finalized with a signature on an electronic display. Screw this town with all its security and surveillance. Watch the room key be electronic, too …Yes, as it turned out. The door to his room was unlocked by a keycard. Everywhere he went in this town, he felt he was being tracked. Cameras watching everything, electric sliding glass doors probably recording every time they open, keycards to open his motel room door. Whoever they were, they knew his every move, and he didn’t like it. At least there was a fire escape. He could just leave the window unlocked and come and go that way.Atwood’s heart sunk when he unlocked the window, and yet somehow, he felt he shouldn’t have been surprised. Attached to the frame outside the window was a laser tripwire. A freaking laser tripwire! At a cheap-assed motel. Who had the money for this? Who had the need for all this surveillance? Where was all this information going?The building with the satellite dish? That had to be it. But why? Why, damn it? Oh, he hated this place. Screw Bedford. Screw Taylor County. For that matter, screw all of Iowa.</blockquote>

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