Click, new channel on the TV, one of the waitresses, sitting at a distance from the people who seemed to be hitting Brian up for drinks, perhaps a bit miffed that the tips would be coming his way.

_"..the latest victim was found in the vicinity of Ridgway, which raises the body county to fourteen. As in previous cases found in DuBois, St. Mary's, Kersey and other towns near Allegheny National Forest, the body, according to coroner reports, had certain parts very carefully removed with a sharp instrument such as a scalpel or butcher's knife. Authorities have not yet identified the victim, pending notification of the family..." _

More and more, depressing news on the TV, but Brian tried to tune it out. **"Morning, Hartmann. I see you're getting an early start. Must be a busy day in hack journalism."** But it was said with a smile. Around here, they liked a degree of back and forth ballbreaking, it was the sort of thing done in a small town to keep things lively. The coffee machine here was top notch, which meant the water was hot, and the whiskey was easy enough to get hot in the water. A proper Irish coffee required cream and brown sugar, the latter of which was dropped directly into the coffee and whiskey to dissolve while he got the cream shaken in a stainless steel mixing cup. The news kept droning on about the story, the frustration of local law enforcement agencies as they tried to cooperate but were out of their depth and, of course, the speculation that Emergents were obviously responsible. Why, they even got Gary Miller, in a suit and looking professionally coiffed, to speculate to that effect. Hartmann's dog was barking outside, suddenly. More than barking, howling, but Brian didn't pay much attention to it as he gave the coffee a bit of a stir and poured it into a glass, leaving some room on the top. He did, however, notice around the time he was handing over the glass, with the shaken cream frothing on top. Dog was barking in basso, it was starting to draw notice.

**"Might wanna give some to your pooch, man. Why don't you just bring the dog in?"** Of course, in the days of federal government and state government health inspections, it was a bit of a no-no to bring a dog in, but these days, the government was too busy with other things to run the regularly scheduled inspections.

In any case, the door rang again, and it wasn't Hartmann getting his dog, but a fellow in a well-cut suit with thinning hair managed to saunter in, **"Hey there, Brian, how are you?"** Charles "Call Me Chuck" McAllister, a former US Attorney before going into private practice after losing a run for Congress about six years ago. He was a fairly tall, wiry sort of guy somewhere in his mid-40's, though it looked like he was taking much better care of himself -- if he was slumping after the loss of his run for congress, he seemed to be bouncing back now, with a light step and the glow of good health. He was the guy that was widely rumored to be the next mayor's pick for sheriff, part of the platform of 'getting tough on the freaks" that was sponsored by Gary Miller. He didn't think McAllister was as much a believer as he was hungry to get back into elected office. Some people saw 'crisis' and thought 'opportunity' and Chuck McAllister was certainly the type, in Brian's mind. Still, politeness cost little, particularly in his job.

**"I'm doing alright. Can I get you anything?"**

**"Sure, how about we make it a cappuccino, so long as you don't tell anyone."**

Brian flashed a knowing grin at that -- The Water of Life did a better cappuccino than the Starbucks nearby, but it was still considered less than working class manly to drink one, though it was more okay if you were part Italian the way Brian and Johnny were. **"No worries, we know how to keep hookers, coke and imported coffee habits a secret."** He assured the man with the sort of banter that a good bartender always had up his sleeve. Brian was good at the poker face delivery, even as he got the man's espresso poured and the milk steamed. Getting the hang of the barista skills was part of the job of 'morning manager' ever since the last guy quit in a huff and Brian found that he could just do the job.

**"Sounds good,"** McAllister told Brian as he took up the oversized mug, **"But while the coffee is damned good here, what I really wanted to do was have a chat with you about Haye Township."**

Brian nodded politely, still poker-faced, **"Sure."**

To Emelina's sight, the man drinking coffee and chatting with Brian in quiet tones from a distance away from her had a rather strange aura -- red shot with a swirling, vivid black, but encased in arctic cyan. It was a thing that flashed in and out of sight erratically, as opposed to the steady appearance of other auras, even those like Brian, which swirled blue and silvery. 

**"Well, I know you're a friend of Sheriff Mark's, but it's likely that he's going to lose this election and, quite frankly, he's a good guy but he's not quite up to the, uh, current circumstances. What the department needs, however, is reliable field leadership, and your name is at the top of that list. I mean, son, you've been a Deputy US Marshall for years, kicking down doors and handling all sorts of high threat situations, and what we have here with these freaks is definitely a high threat situation..."** The man was stirring his coffee as he gave his little oration, quietly and conversationally.

No one else saw what Kurt saw floating around the man; the ghosts trying to howl their message, incoherently, because their tongues were cut out -- that was easy to see in the news. And yet, they hadn't been there before, until McAllister came in.

**"So what are you saying, sir?"**

**"I need a solid, respected man to take over the tactical team we want to form when I get in. We need someone with the experience and the knowledge to run that unit, particularly in dealing with the freak threat. It'd carry a captain's rank."**

**"It's a generous offer,"** Brian started slowly, but was cut off.

**"Look, I know recent events have been bad. You have until after the election to actually respond to the offer. But your sister seemed to think that you're not doing much here and she's the one that suggested you to Pastor Miller and Hank,"** referring to the town's most politically active pastor and Henry Miller, the guy running unopposed for mayor. 

**"I'll consider it,"** he told the man, though he considered his mind made up; but an argument with a lawyer that disagreed with him would merely drag out the uncomfortable situation. McAllister was anti-Emergent and this was a meeting, right under the man's nose, of a group of Emergents coming together out of mutual fear of what the future, represented by this very man among others, held. He'd resigned because he didn't like the Dunn Act. He resigned because people were freaking out and expected to shoot their way out of the problem. The trees were erupting with dryads and long dead ghosts were haunting their former residences, but people seemed to think that 'getting tough' would solve it. And some people were getting themselves elected by selling what they couldn't deliver -- back to the way it was before.

None of that, of course, was something he wanted to talk about. Not with this guy, so Brian merely nodded along as if he were thinking it over. But McAllister got impatient for the answer, and saved him from a longer response. The man was already checking his smartphone, presumably looking at his appointment schedule.

**"Sounds good. Anyway, damned good coffee, glad to see you back in Haye."** He drained the coffee, slid some money on the table, including a fairly nice tip, and ambled out, which set Hartmann's dog barking again.