The Tempe police station was a recent addition to the community; a modern, sleek, and totally unassuming building that held a vast array of up-to-date crime fighting equipment, in spite of the fact that it was one of the smallest police stations in the state of Arizona. There were several work areas for booking or paperwork, interview rooms, and a nice conference room for strategy sessions, tactical rundowns, and the annual Christmas party. But it was the holding cells that were the department's pride and joy. Six self-contained cells, capable of holding two people comfortably, and a triple-sized cell for larger parties that functioned as one hellacious drunk tank.

All of this law enforcement splendor was lost on the guys as they were escorted through the back door and into a narrow room, flanked by a counter and small office. The small, wiry man behind the counter greeted the two officers and said, "College hi-jinks?"

"Don't know yet," said Compton. To the guys, he said, "You four: sit." He pointed to a row of chairs. An older black prostitute was loudly chewing her gum. "Don't move, you hear?"

They glanced at the woman, who regarded them with reptilian indifference, and sat down four chairs away from her.

Compton motioned to Jones, and they walked over to where Kaminski, the desk sergeant was sitting, and said, "So, what do you think?"

"What do you got?" asked Kaminski.

"It's possible vandalism and trespassing, but there's something else, too."

"I don't think they stole any trucks," said Jones.

"Neither do I," said Compton.

"Oh, this the grand theft?" asked Kaminski.

"Has it been that boring, Kaminski?" asked Compton.

"Jesus, I'm about to do my nails, here," he said.

"So, what's up with that kid?" asked Jones.

"Got me, but every time that rent-a-cop said thief, the big kid looked like he'd swallowed a bug."

"So, what, then?" said Jones.

"Tell you what: Kaminski, give us the conference room, I'll see if we can talk to them and get the story. Jones, you keep the security guard busy and get the owner of the building on the phone. We can't hold them if he doesn't press charges. All we have them for right now is digging holes in a field."

"Why are you giving me the leg work?" said Jones, his eyes narrowed.

"Hey, if you'd rather talk to these idiots, be my guest." Compton said, smiling.

"No, that's fine, you take point on this one," said Jones, backing away hurriedly.

Kaminski handed Compton the key to the conference room. "Bring it back when you're done."

"Don't I always?" said Compton, over his shoulder.

"No."

Compton pointed at the mud daubers and said, "Okay, fellows, let's go have a chat."

While the cops conferred, the guys pondered their fate. It was the first time they had been together since being picked up.

"So, now what?" said Turk.

"Good question," said Burt.

"I have to pee," said D.J.

The prostitute leaned over the four chairs, allowing her sagging, spacious cleavage to open up for them. "Do any of you boys have a cigarette?" she asked in a glass-and-gravel voice.

"No, ma'am," said Burt. "We don't smoke."

She looked at Burt, the only one of the guys who wasn't regarding her with a mixture of fear and disgust. "Well, I sure do need to get me some cigarettes, now, don't I?"

"Good luck with that," Burt said.

"Tell me something," asked Turk, "have you ever met a stranger?"

"Hey, I exude an approachable demeanor," said Burt.

"I honestly believe you could pick up girls in a police station," he said. "Well, maybe not this police station."

"You and your virginity," said D.J. "We have got to get you laid."

"Hey, I know someone...?" said Burt, indicating the prostitute. "She'll cut me the 'friend' rate."

No one laughed.

The larger of the two cops came walking over. "Okay, fellows," he said. "Let's go have a chat."

Compton steered his charges into the conference room and motioned for them to sit down on one side of the large, rectangular table. He uncuffed them and pocketed the handcuffs. "I'll be right back," he said, shutting the door.

This was intentional. It was a brief chance for them to get their story straight, and he hoped they would take it. In the meantime, he went back to the receiving desk computer and printed out their files, which had come back from California. He paged through them briefly and saw nothing that jumped out at him. Traffic stuff, no misdemeanors, and certainly no felonies. He noticed that the Croft kid was the oldest, and had lost a shitload of weight since his last license picture was taken. He grabbed a legal pad and a pen and went back to the conference room.

"Okay," Compton said, opening the door quickly. He was pleased to see that their heads had been bowed and they were talking in low tones. When he entered, they all snapped to attention like car antennas. Compton sat down in front of them and glanced through their files again, looking in turn at each one. The two youngest, Terkington and Vaughn, were going to Berkeley. The other two, McGuinness and Croft, were apparently working jobs.

Compton put down the files and picked up his pen. He wrote preliminary things down, pad tilted so they couldn't see it. "Well, let's start with the basics," he said. "I'm Officer Compton. I know you four are Croft, Terkington, McGuinness, and Vaughn. Now," he said. "Before we get started, let me make this very clear for you. You are not under arrest...yet. You are currently being held for questioning in conjunction with a call that we got that stated a crime was being committed at the particular warehouse. When we arrived at the scene, we found you. You didn't have a good explanation for yourself, so we're talking about this now, to determine whether or not you are to be put under arrest." Compton leaned back. "We on the same page so far?"

The young men all nodded. Croft spoke up. "Officer, we didn't steal those trucks. That security guard is a moron."

"I know that," said Compton, "I know you didn't steal any trucks." He watched grins break out on their faces. "But I do know that you were up to something out there." The grins vanished like a magic trick. "So, I'm giving you the chance, right now, to tell me the truth. I could question all of you separately, but I don't want to do that. You don't want to be here anymore than I do. So, if you didn't do anything wrong, or if you did, we'll all get back to our lives a lot quicker if you'll just tell me what you were doing in that field. Okay?" He looked at all of them, eyes raised. To people who didn't know him, it made him appear sincere. In reality, Compton raised his eyebrows as a way of keeping his cool.

The guys all looked at one another, and a flurry of meaningful glances darted back and forth, jumping from face to face. They looked like they were attempting to communicate telepathically. "So, let's hear it," said Compton.

All four of them spoke at once.

"We were pledging a frat," said Croft.

"I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me," said Terkington.

"This is all a big misunderstanding," said McGuinness.

"We were looking for porno modules," said Vaughn.

Compton put down the pen and the pad. Oh yes, he could feel the headache starting in his ears. This was going to be a doozy.