Snippet #2466662

"Right. Of course it is," Dexter Morrison replied as he swiveled into a more appropriate sitting position. He had spent the past 5 minutes scanning the file. Odd how she was absent for that long, considering it's all hands on deck. Crosse avoided extensive eye contact and seemed a little groggy. But hey, even if the rumours are true, that could be explained by being forced to get up in the morning. Even Dex was struggling for a bit of a second wind. He went back to eyeballing some of the new information there was on the case, what little there was.
"He got out in a car crash?" Dex asked Crosse. She nodded. "Judging by how fucked up the guards are, I'd get some uniforms searching places where he could gets supplies. Chances are he's hurt and wants to dress his wounds. That means houses, general stores, clinics. Avoid searching other places that are unlikely to have those for now."
Bailey looked at Dex, contemplating what he had to say to her. She opened her mouth to say something, but Dex quickly followed up with a smile, "I'm gonna go do some detective work at the crash site. I'll see you at ground zero. Thanks for the file, babe." Morrison then slunk out the door, hoping to avoid McCoy on the way to the scene.