Rupti grabbed the department scanners with a soft cry and immediately placed them under a fume hood within seconds of Del and Lazlo entering the room. Closing the scuffed lexan cover, the technician activated suction and watched as the vacuum pulled away all the dust and spores coating the devices. Del wasn’t sure where to stand in the cramped tech lab of the security station. She had enough dirt on her clothes to ruin anything she might brush up against. Lazlo had cheerfully claimed that their attire didn’t matter and that he wanted to catch Trixie on her shift so she could check their equipment. The tech officer turned back to them and smiled hugely at Lazlo, looking as if she’d been waiting for him to show up and rescue her from a gang of pirates. Trixie was pretty and clean. Del sighed and tried not to compare herself to her. “Trixie, this is Del Browen,” Lazlo introduced them and Del held out her hand, but withdrew it when she saw how dirty it was. Trixie didn’t notice—she was too busy staring at Lazlo, who was appealing in a rakish way with his dusty boots, odd bits of gear hanging from a low-slung belt and shirtsleeves rolled up.
