Brand pounded at the door, getting irritated. “Come on, if you won’t keep a listed phone number, at least answer your door!” He didn’t like the look of this place. He’d busted into places like this, but based on his file with the local police, at least this ‘Ozzie’ character wasn’t the sort to have dogs, or traps.

After a moment of silence, he began pounding a fifth time, and shouted, “Mr. Shaw? Please, if you’re home, you’re not under arrest, but I need to talk to you; this is Agent Brand, with the FBI! We-” He glanced when he noticed someone, a local, he figured, walking by and just shaking their head as they watched him, seeing them mouth the words, ‘[i]fuckin’[/i] stoners..’ “We met briefly yesterday evening, do you remember? Mr. Shaw, it’s urgent that I speak to you, and as soon as possible!”

[center][hr][/center]

At the crime scene, MacPherson was talking with the deputy, behind the tape, but his back to the body. “I agree, Deputy, this looks a lot like those missing animals and cattle, but, I'm not so sure this is an animal, now…”

“So, you agree with Mr. Fancy-Pants, now?”

“There’s no need to be hostile, deputy; he’s been nothing but professional, here.

"Evidence thus far does not point to a mere animal attack, Deputy. I may not be a wildlife expert, but I know how to read toxicology reports, and there is nothing in this area that is both possessed of ‘necrotoxin’ venom, and capable of doing… [i]That[/i]… to a dog, nevermind anything like this…”

“So, you think, what? Some kind of sicko? A serial killer, here, in Nowhere?”

MacPherson raised an eyebrow, “You pay me a great compliment, Deputy, to think I’m such an expert, but, no; I think this is more inline with my actual skill set. I think what we’re looking at is certainly a deranged mind, but directed in the interest of their own imagination- a hoax, a dark sense of humor that’s gotten… Out of hand.  Still, you should intensify safety measures; maintain the curfew, of course, but nobody should go anywhere alone, this-” He nodded to the crime scene, “Represents a radical shift; the killer, for lack of a better word, has broken away from the primary affected area, that’s why we couldn’t find anything during our stake out at the McColm place! The culprit knew better than to be where they’d already drawn too much attention.”

The deputy tried to keep his cool, but was very nervous, and trying to calm himself as he replied, “Well, that’s good, right? It sounds like, uh, we spooked ‘em?” 

Another nod to the crime scene, “Does that look anything like the work of a prankster who’s feeling [i]discouraged[/i]? If anything this is worse; good god, man, it’s a radical escalation! We can’t prove who or what chased the McColm girl into the river, but this is absolutely our culprit’s work! This could happen anywhere, now, to anyone!” He was raising his voice now, “And frankly I’m getting a little tired of your attitude, it-” He glanced up, having caught a glimpse of something on the roof, was that… That red head he saw with Brand, last night? “… It’s enough to consider filing a complaint.” Some people in crime scene gear showed up, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the experts are here, I’m sure you won’t mind if I go and do what I can to be helpful. Let me know if you come up with suspects.” And with that, he began to walk away.

“Any other brilliant suggestions, big shot, private eye?” The deputy was being defensive, his pride wounded, perhaps.

MacPherson didn’t let it get to him, glancing toward the rooftop again, “Road blocks.”

“Road Blocks?”

“Yes. Nobody without a badge get’s in, or out of town, that’s my recommendation at this point.”

[center][hr][/center]

At the diner, Old Man McColm stood next to Johnny, greeting him.  “Top o’the mornin’, boyo. I appreciate your willin’ness to help me, and it means a lot that you believe me- say, where’s your friend? The native boy?” He looked at the door when the bell rang, seeing Sid walk in and flagged him down. "Ah, over here, you just made it!"