The Vanguards regrouped at Jake's Place, the catfish man grateful for their help, yet still disturbed by the morning's events. The La Perditan authorities had arrived by this time, and were inspecting the crime scene, as well as incarcerating the surviving members of The Dead, and interviewing the metas.
"You understand, Mr. Smith, that telepathically gained evidence from a person who is deceased, may not hold up in court." Inspector Kramer stated.
"I understand, all the same, it's yours if you need it, and I'm willing to help gain any information you might need from the surviving gang members." Phil answered, trying very hard not to coerce Inspector Kramer into simply following his mental commands.
"You folks are pretty lucky. Most of the citizens around here are very grateful to you for what you've done for this little island. Hell, you guys saved me and my family during that hurricane business a while back. You need anything, you call me." Kramer handed Phil his card.
"I will, and we appreciate what you do as well." Phil answered, placing the card within his inside jacket pocket.
Grissom, Bri, and Grimm sat at the bar, having a few drinks, served by Uncle Otto. "Here you go, kids, on me." Otto said, placing their drinks in front of them with a light touch unexpected from someone resembling a large bear.
"So, Grimm, what brings you back to our little island paradise?" Montag asked, sipping a Long Island Iced Tea.
"Are ye coming back to Vanguard?" Bri sipped her wine slowly, her head still aching from where he was struck earlier.
"No, no, nothing like that. I've been out visiting. . .old haunts. . .I guess you could say. . .taking care of unfinished business." Grimm answered. He pulled off his gauntlets and placed them in the stool next to him before taking a drink of his Guinness. "I saw Dirk not too long ago, as well."
"And so you just came to La Perdita to visit?" Montag wrapped an arm around Bri while teleporting a small umbrealla into her drink. "Griss!" She laughed at the small gesture.
"Well, no. Actually I've been tracking that gang from the mainland United States. They're not just made up like zombies. Some of them actually are zombies."
Bri shivered a bit at the notion. "I wondered from their smell."
"Say, Grimm, 'ave you seen Turkish lately?" Montag asked.
"Not since I left Haven." Grimm answered. It seemed to Montag that this answer was a bit cold, but with Grimm, it was often hard to tell.
"You. . .left?" Bri asked. "Are you going back?"
"No, no, I don't think I am." He answered, turning back to his drink.
Bri looked at Grissom who responded with a look that said don't push it, not right now. This was a very complicated look to pull off, but Grissom did it quite well, having had many years of experience.
"Yes. So, where's the rest of the group?" Grimm took another drink of Guinness.
"This is it. It's just us." Montag replied rather glumly.
"What? What happened?" Grimm looked at the Sandcrawler as Phil took a seat next to them and dialed Leslie's number on his speedphone.
"Well, it's a long story. . ." And Griss proceded to catch him up on what he'd missed.
*Grimm's unfinished business and why he left Haven to be the subject of an upcoming solo story.
