Snippet #2374331

Even with the slight peace of mind gained from his conversation with Alex, Barton still felt a bit unrested when he awoke. In a flash he remembered what he was supposed to be doing today, and glanced over at the clock. Red glowing digits displayed the time clearly: 9:40 AM. What time was the funeral today? 11? 1?

Not wanting to be late to anything, Barton showered and dressed quickly in his usual professional attire, finally feeling complete with a fresh, unbloodied tie, clipped to his shirt carefully. He thought about leaving his pistol, but given the events of yesterday alone he would probably be better served taking it. He had left his rifle in his car, where he would keep it for now, but the Glock stayed with him, he decided. He strapped on the underarm holster, checked to be sure the pistol was in Condition Three (loaded with a full magazine, firing chamber empty, hammer down, safety on), then pulled on the black blazer he used so often to conceal it. Thus ready and as fresh-faced as he was going to get, Barton took his key and left the hotel, nodding to the day-shift receptionist as he did.

At the Sheriff's office, he found Adams waiting in the main room. "Morning Deputy. Any word from Agent Blake?"

Adams looked at him slowly, then took a deep breath before answering, "The only word I got from Agent Blake was to wait for Agent Barton. Apparently he didn't want to repeat himself." His tone conveyed a touch of irritation, and Barton picked up on the likely series of earlier events. Most likely Adams had been on the receiving end of Blake's infamous "shut the ** up until everyone's here" routine.

No point in dwelling on it now, Barton decided. "Well, I'm here. Where is he?" Right to business.

"Agent Blake is in...um, in Sheriff Carter's office," the receptionist announced, having either heard Barton or deduced what he wanted without hearing him.

Barton nodded to her in thanks before crossing the room to the late Sheriff's office, knocking twice with his habitual heaviness, and opening the door slowly. "David? Thomas Barton here, reporting for day 2. Is Simon around?" The quick flurry was done before he stepped into the room. He blinked at the sight of Blake, who frankly looked like trash, worn out and run to the quick.