Log:The Talking Dead

2021/01/27 	 Grimm Carpenter Nighthound

1

Grimm headed over to Jack's place to spend the evening with him. And that really was the plan until she dug up some dirt. When she arrived, she steps in, gave him a hug, and told him she found out the ghost hero Evan McMasters mentioned supposedly haunts the cemetery, or someone by that description. She says oh so sweetly to him, "So...I know it's supposed to be a date night, but...do you want to check it out? Or maybe your cowboy friend does?" she says with a teasing smile.

Carpenter chuckles. "Sure. I can do that." He thinks about it. "I think...if he's advising McMasters, I should leave the costume at home this time."

Grimm nods and smiles. "Alright. Maybe we can find him if we're lucky. I have an idea of a trick that may help a little," she alludes as she opens a portal to just within the cemetery gates and walks through.

Carpenter steps through as well and looks around as they arrive.

Grimm takes a breath and sighs out, her breath visible on the air in a fine mist. She's anxious. "I may have to do something to help you see a ghost if we find him." She looks back to Jack as the portal closes behind him. "Do you trust me?" she asks softly.

Carpenter nods, "Of course I do."

Grimm smiles at that. His words make her feel warm inside. She steps up to him and holds a hand up to his face slowly. "I'm just going to grant you a little bit of my magic. Just enough to open your eyes to see. It won't hurt," she says as she lays her hand over his eyes to cover them for a moment. Her hand begins to feel a little chilly, and that chill spreads a bit across his brow. After a few seconds, she draws her hand away so he can see again. "There. You okay?"

Carpenter shivers a little bit. "Yeah, I feel...fine, I guess?"

As Carpenter looks over at Grimm, he sees someone standing behind her. Well, about 30 feet behind her, Carpenter notices a figure standing in the slight shadow cast by a large old obelisk memorial stone by the nearly full moon. The figure wears a dark gray trenchcoat of antique cut over an even darker grey suit with a dark crimson dress shirt and dark grey tie. A matching grey fedora to to trenchcoat casts an impenetrable shadow over his face. Supple black leather gloves cover his hands and soft soled black leather shoes are on his feet. The cherry end of a cigarette glows in the corner of his mouth. He is also, to your sight, slightly translucent, the moonlight illuminating him somewhat from inside.

Carpenter furrows his brow. "Okay...so...maybe it worked?" He nods over in the direction of the person he spotted. "See him?"

Grimm looks over her shoulder, having spent a few moments mentally fussing on whether she worked her magic right. Randal's been giving her some theory tips, and studying with Connor has helped. She didn't find ideas for defensive magic yet, but she ran into other interesting tidbits. "Yeah. And I'm guessing you can, so...it worked!" She sounds pleasantly surprised.

Grimm says under her breath, "...wow. That's certainly a look. I like his style."

To his trained eye, Carpenter can also make out that the man also has two underarm holsters and probably an ankle holster. Also, some sort of baton strapped to his right leg.

Carpenter nods, "Yeah. Very striking." He walks over in that direction, but not in a hurry.

Grimm walks with him, studying the outfit. "Hmmm...y'know what it reminds me of? The old Cartesian's outfit kind of. But like a dark mirror version. I dig it," she grins. "Very pulpy."

The figure takes in a slow draw from his cigarette the flicks it to one side and away. It fades from existence a few inches from his hand. He slowly moves forward, his gaze resting more on Grimm than on Carpenter. He stops when he's about halfway to you all.

Carpenter looks to Grimm, letting her ask the initial questions.

Grimm slows to a stop, something familiar about the outfit in a different way. "I guess that looks popular with more people than I thought," she comments. She starts talking to the ghost directly, "In fact...I know an older guy who dresses a bit similar, but with darker colors. We heard you've been mentoring a kid who got himself into a bit of trouble. Evan McMasters? I'm assuming based on how you look, you're the ghost we're looking for."

"And why is the Queen of Shade interested in Evan?" says the ghost, you presume of the Bloodhound, in a less than friendly voice.

"I...haven't heard that one in a while," Gabrielle finds it unexpected. She looks to Carpenter.

Carpenter raises a brow. He also goes ahead and shows his badge. "Detective Carpenter. CBPD. We were investigating a series of scams. He's been involved in a series of crimes...scamming various pawn shops and a jewelry store. That's why we ended up talking to him. He mentioned your name. And...that you were a ghost."

"And why is the CBPD helping a would be interdimensional conqueror, Detective Carpenter?" asks the ghost. He does lean forward to look a the badge. "Hmm, never did like the new design. Guess it stuck though."

"Oh," Gabrielle says quietly. "-That- Queen of Shade. No, no, I'm not--how do you even know about her?"

The design of the badge has been in existence since the 1980's

Carpenter smiles and glances at the badge before putting it back in a pocket. "She's not a conqueror. I suspect you're thinking of another version of her from another dimension."

Carpenter snaps his fingers, and points to Grimm. "...whom I've met." He looks back to the ghost, "Definitely a different person."

Grimm nods to Carpenter. "Yeah, that's the one he's probably thinking of."

The ghost looks at the two of you then nods. "She sent a spirit to check things out here in CB once. It got destroyed and she came to find how. Then she was made unwelcome," states the ghost in a dry tone. "Apologies for mistaking you for her. Ms Grimm, right?"

Grimm nods to the ghost. "Yeah, I'm this dimension's...me. It seems like she may have tried to get around the truce by sending one of her scouts. Hrmm..."

Carpenter nods. "So...what's your take on Evan? Seems like a smart kid. Just perhaps a bit...overconfident. Might be in over his head a bit."

"As to Evan..." The ghost.

"As to Evan..." The ghost seems to think. "Ah, first of all, I'm the Night Hound now. A pleasure to meet you." He doesn't offer to shaker hands but you can tell he thought about it.

"Oh...I was confused. I thought you were the Bloodhound," Gabrielle admits sheepishly.

"I wish I could say I;m surprised about Evan and, I assume, his friends, being involved in defrauding criminals." He sighs. "They're good kids at heart. I know this from watching them fight a murderous spectre and freeing his victim's souls. But, well, they're also obviously not from around here. Too many, hmm, standards we take for granted are, hmm, foreign to them."

The Night Hound looks over at Gabrielle and nods. "I was when I was alive. Now, well, I'm the Night Hound. Come let me show you." He begins to walk towards a different section of the cemetery.

Carpenter nods and follows. "There's a vigilante in town with a similar name. Night Marshal."

Carpenter adds, "...he's not a ghost, though. Cowboy motif."

"Huh," is Grimm's response to the new name for his afterlife. She looks to Jack, shrugs, and follow. "Bit of an old fashioned type, too," she grins at the mention of Night Marshal.

You can detect a ghost of a smile on the Night Hound's face. "Well, a good motif. I thought of using something like that, but, well, raised on the old Shadow radio shows. And the dime novels. Won out in the end for me."

"But, back to Evan. Is he under arrest? If so, I hope you didn't just put him in juvenile hall. I think he'd slip out of there slick as silk, if his friends didn't just remove him," says the Night Hound. "As to getting in over his head?" He sighs. "I think all of them did fighting off the spectre of Damon Harrington. The being Harrington got his powers from, well, I think it's watching them now. It said it would as it left with Harrington piss poor excuse for a soul."

Carpenter shakes his head, "I didn't' arrest him. There wasn't' really enough evidence to do so. But it's borderline."

"He may have also cross some of the wrong people," Grimm adds. "Certainly put him on their radar."

The Night Hound nods as you speak. "Borderline cases were always being broght to me, Detedtive Carpenter. But then, I /was/ a prosecutor, so, par for the course." He moves along at a good pace across the silent and slightly foggy cemetery grounds.

"And, yes, he and his friends did 'cross' Harrington's master. But, that one takes a long view, usually. Doesn't mean we won't mess with the kids though, I imagine. One of the reasons I keep meaning to check in on them."

Carpenter nods slowly. "Do you know...if one of the people Evan is working with...is a clone of himself? Or...another dimensional version of him?"

Evan looks over at Carpenter then shakes his head. "LIke the Ms. Grimms? I know there isn't. Each of the kids is different as a collection of strays. None of the five look the same. I suppose the shapeshifter /could/ look like Evan, but never seen him do so."

Carpenter furrows his brow. "Shapeshifter? That could do it."

"Hm. I'm not too familiar with whatever master this Harrington person had, but the kids may be caught up with someone else. Something connected to celtic gods that're into human sacrifice," Grimm says as she draws her shoulders up against the chill, and buries her nose under the wrap of her scarf.

"Not certain of his exact limits, the shapeshifter. I tend to hand around the mentalist more since he can astrally project. He's come to me for advice on how to help one of the ghost's in their home. Trying to get Charlie settled." He sighs. "I hope they succeed. Charlie's losing himself."

The Night Hound stops by a grave with the name 'James Patrick McMasters', 'Beloved Friend, Colleague, Mentor' 'He will be missed' 'June 21, 1917 - November 23, 1991' There is a symbol of baying hound inscribed in a circle on the top of the gravestone. And a series of odd wedge shaped marked around the edges the gravestone.

"As to Harrington's master? He's a demon 'lord'. Goes by the name The Gentleman. And it's possible they've gotten caught up with someone else. I think they attract oddness like the Scooby Doo kids from that cartoon."

Carpenter nods slowly. "You're Evan's ancestor, then? Well, sort of, since you're from this dimension?"

"Or rather, I should say the Gentleman was Harrington's master. Now, well, Harrington is in the demon's realm. Hopefully suffering more than his victims did," adds the Night Hound.

The Night Hound seems startled then laughs softly. "Um, I doubt it. Why do you think I'm his ancestor?"

Carpenter points to the grave stone. "Same last name. Or am I confused?"

"No, that's my last name. Given to me by my ma and pa. But, I asked as I don't know, well, didn't know Evan's last name." He takes out a cigarette and lights it as he speaks. "But, wouldn't surprise me if he's related somehow. McMasters isn't an uncommon last name among the Scots. Not the most common, but not rare even though it's a small clan." He adds as he shakes out his spectral match, dropping it and watching it while disappears into mist.

"That said, I doubt any of them are using their real names, detective. They've got, well, not fugitives, more like runaways written all over themselves."

Grimm studies the grave as she listens, then suddenly looks up. "Holy shick, the -Gentleman-?" she asks with wide eyes.

"But, to be clear, I didn't have any kids. Not fond enough of women in that way to want them. And, well, likely any kids I might have had, based on the few encounters I had, well, they'd be unknown to me and vice versa," the Night Hound adds quietly.

He looks to Grimm. "Familiar with the old bastard, are you, Ms. Grimm?"

Grimm shivers faintly and rubs the back of her head. "Unfortunately. I think he's courting my old boss back when I was working private investigations. Seems kinda taken by her."

Night Hound shakes his head. "The only thing that monster wants is her soul, Ms Grimm. That's all we are to his kind: food and currency and power." His tone is hard.

Carpenter nods slowly. "I'm guessing this Gentleman, I can't really just shoot, huh?"

"Well...you -could-. It would just annoy him. And...I'd still recommend maybe you don't. He's...he's not just some lowly demon. More like a Fallen angel or something," Gabrielle explains.

Carpenter nods slowly, not really liking the idea of things he can't actually handle personally. But in this job, he has needed to accept it.

Night Hound looks at Carpenter. "Oh, you can shoot him. Which will likely just make his laugh before he does unimaginable things to you. But, he's got a body, just well, he's as close a demon lord to Satan himself as one can imagine." He then leans forward and murmurs, "Unless you're armed to the teeth with something holy, just don't attack him. I don't know why, but he can't physically or mentally harm anyone unless he's attacked first. Doesn't mean he can trick you or fool your senses or manipulate you the Hell and back, but he can't /harm/ you."

Carpenter nods. "Hmm. Good to know. Kind of like the Predators in this old horror movies."

Grimm grits her teeth at the thought of that. "Just never make a deal with him."

Carpenter nods, "Well, yeah. I mean...Crossroads, right? Seems like a mistake."

The Night Hound takes a deep draw from his cigarette. "Well, yes, unless you want to give up your soul and, maybe, life."

He knocks off some spectral ash as he adds, "He keeps the letter, if not spirit, of his word at least. Not that that much comfort I imagine as you spend eternity in his hell realms."

Grimm takes a breath and breathes it out slow. "These kids sure have a knack of finding the worst trouble. And being trouble themselves. And they got a shapeshifter, a mentalist, and someone named Charlie?"

"But, yes, the kids, well, didn't cross him but they get the mansion away from him. It's a nice piece of unreal estate," says the Night Hound with a bit of humor in his voice. "Full of potential as Harrington realized. It'd make a nice, hmm, beachhead into the real for the Gentleman given all the blood spilled there over time."

He looks to Grimm. "There are five kids, Ms Grimm. All high schooled age. And there are four, well, five ghosts in the mansion and its grounds. Well, that all that there are now. They freed the rest by destroying Harrington's body; that freed the hundred and more of his victims."

"Charlie is one of the ghosts in the mansion. He's, well, even before Harrington, Charlie was not, hmm, stable. After what Harrington did, he's barely holding on."

Carpenter blinks. "Huh. I...guess they should free the others somehow? That's outside my normal uh...wheelhouse." He looks to Grimm.

"It's complicated, Detective Carpenter, and despite what I've picked up over the decades, well, I'm no mystic. Give me a nice straightforward fight after tracking down the perp and I'm much happier. I left that side of things to Lightray when we were alive together," murmurs the Night Hound.

Grimm's eyes widen. "They got a -mansion-?" She looks to Carpenter and pouts just a little. "Why don't we get a mansion?" she says in a faux-wounded voice. When she realizes Jack is staring at her, she grins. "Oh, right. Ghost exorcising. Do I like look a nun or priest to you?" More seriously, she looks to Nighthound. "I've helped ghosts move on before, but they were relatively recently dead. But that involved helping avenge their deaths."

Grimm blinks at that. "Wait...you knew Lightray??"

"We were partners in crimefighting for over a decade, Ms Grimm, before he got assassinated," says the Night Hound. "I know, knew him well. I ate with his wife and family. I went in his place to his son's funeral and held his wife while she cried."

Carpenter blinks as he listens. Clearly he doesn't know enough about Lightray's background. "Hmm."

Grimm also looks surprised by this information. "Wow. Um. I knew he was kind of old school. But he's still running around. Maybe he came back, kind of like how Commander Perrault did. Uh, you probably don't know him. After your time, guessing by...y'know," she motions to the date on his tombstone.

Carpenter nods. "Commander Perrault started as a hero in like...2051 or so."

"And yet, I read over people's shoulders, Ms Grimm. Did you ever think there might be a reason some libraries are so cold?" says the Night Hound with a note of humor in his voice. "I'm, well, not unique, but unusual in that I can still care about the world of the living rather than being trapped in the past."

"Huh. Somehow I thought Spirit was older. Or way old. I ...guess he died young," Gabrielle suddenly is reminded of the heavy costs of being a hero. She nods at the mention of cold libraries. "...yeah. I know. I've known since I was a little girl."

Carpenter chuckles. "I always assumed it was the air conditioning."

"I mean, most times it is," Gabrielle grins.

"The dead and the quick don't usually mix well, no. And yes, it usually is just air conditioning, I imagine," says the Night Hound.

"But, to get back to your questions, detective. I think I've taken us down rabbit holes. Do you want my frank opinion of Evan and his friends?"

Carpenter nods. "Yes, please."

Grimm nods as well.

"As a group: they are willing to go into danger to help those they've barely met. They tend to leap before they look as evidenced by their deciding to free the trapped souls in the mansion without realizing the risk they were putting themselves in. They are protective of each other and genuinely care about one another. They are argumentative, stubborn, and oh so young. As to their views on law? Well, I imagine they are lax with it given they see no problem with just taking possession of a haunted mansion left to them in a dead man's will by allowing a grateful ghost to be their guardian and front for them. Make of that what you will. I, well, it gives them a home and makes then want to set down roots I think. As I said, I've spent not a great deal of time with them," says the Night Hound.

"As to Evan specifically. He's got all of the above traits. He's also, well, more so than most of them he's protective of them and innocents it seems. He's driven by something in his past, some tragedy. He's like some of the survivors of the Jap prison camps we liberated. He's driven by the guilt of surviving. I think he'd throw himself on a grenade to save someone he's 'protecting'. I imagine he gets in fights partially so he might pay for living. I know, from observing, that he gets post-combat shakes so he's well aware of the risks but still does gets into it. And detective? He's way too smart for his own good."

Carpenter raises a brow at the 'Jap' slang, but doesn't remark on it. He figures it's a product of when Night Hound was alive. "Smart is fine. As long as some common sense goes with it. He's certainly over his head, if he continues to go after these pawn shops. Whoever is backing them has noticed."

The Night hound lights up another cigarette when he finishes speaking, letting the last one fade away as he drops it. "I can see him committing fraud to provide for his family and feeling no guilt over it so long as innocents weren't hurt. I have to ask: did you ask or tell him to stop? And if so, did he agree?"

Carpenter nods. "He agreed to stop. I'm not sure how much faith to put in that."

Carpenter shrugs, "I know there are plenty of honorable, honest people who will keep their words. And then there are the people I deal with on my job."

Night Hound takes a deep draw of his cigarette then says, "I imagine he'll honor the word if not the spirit of his agreement, Detective Carpenter. I don't think he trusts easily. The fact that he seems to trust his friends is a good sign though. Means Evan might be able of trusting people outside them. He seems to like Chalmers in any case."

"But, full disclosure, I'm grateful to the kids for what they did. Damon Harrington was a serial killer and worse who got away with his crimes in life. They managed to stop him after his death. And f they hadn't? Well, I'd be trapped or worse in that mansion now."

Carpenter nods. "Hmm. Fair enough. I just don't want this kid to end up in the judicial system if he doesn't need to be. Please...tell him to be cautious. Heck, let him know we talked to you."

Grimm sighs. Based on that description of being too smart for his on good, Carpenter must -love- this kid. She's surprised by Jack's response. "So that's it?"

"You might, someday, ask him to show you Harrington's victims. There's a new ossuary on the grounds of the mansion filled with their bones. Well over a hundred murders, kidnappings, and worse who victims books are now, finally, closed. If they hadn't happened so long ago, I'd say get the remains to their families, but they are decades old. Let the families have the peace of not knowing their fates in life," murmurs the Night Hound. "But, that something for you, the quick, to decide."

Carpenter shakes his head and says to Grimm, "There are loose ends to deal with. The dark magic, for example. There's something else going on here." He takes a moment. "The finger print had a scar. My guess is...it was the shapechanger trying to look like Evan. And then...if people didn't know what happened to these folks...their families deserve to know. They really do. But that opens up another set of issues. What happens to the house if that becomes public?"

"And I don't want them to end up in the judicial system either, any of them. As for the house? Well, it'd be a crime scene like no other given it's, hmm, unusual nature. But, the will seems solid. Harrington set it up that anyone who took possession of the house from him would have certain phrases to give to the executors of his estate. And that it and his monies would pass to them. Harrington expected that to be himself reborn as a 'god' admittedly, but the will just gives the means to take legal possession. More problematically, the kids may have no legal status on this world and are minors. And their guardian? Well, can a ghost be a legal guardian as he's legally dead?" He chuckles. "I suppose I could provide amicus curiae moritiuri but that would be about it."

Grimm shrugs. "I think it becomes a crime scene for a long time. The kids could even get charged with it technically if they touched the bodies. Family law suits. It could get ugly."

Carpenter nods slowly. "I'm not sure what to do there. I'll have to think about it. But at least we can continue following the current case a bit longer."

Grimm nods. "Yeah...we have someone using dark magic that's leaning on local pawn shops for someone. That's gotta be a big case, too."

"As to evil Celtic gods? I've no idea. I mean, I can name off some of the gods, but I was Catholic," says the Night Hound. "A guess? Chance or the Gentleman interfering. Not to harm to the kids, but use them as catspaws. If someone is sacrificing humans and the Gentleman's not getting a cut? Well, predators don't play well with each other."

Grimm thinks a moment. "I really need to work on my latin." Which may mean having to study a bit with Connor. Which is...dangerous. "What's 'amicus curiae moritiuri'?"

Carpenter shrugs, "My Latin isn't great either. That's like...a 'friend of the court' thing, I think."

Grimm is suddenly piqued as she looks to Carpenter. "But you do know some?"

"Well, it's butchered Latin. I suppose it's actually, hnnm, mortuss est amicus curiae. Or 'dead man's friend of the court'. Amcius curiaie is a brief brought by an interested third party in a case. The dead part, well, lawyer's humor," says the Night Hound.

Carpenter nods to Grimm, "Well, I know a few words. Mostly the legal sounding ones, due to the job."

"Policeman's Latin. Usually they want to know 'how do I can a defense lawyer a son of a bitch in Latin' I found," quips the Night Hound.

Grimm hides her disappointment. Talk of habeas corpus isn't quite what floats her boat. "Of, right, of course." She looks back to Nighthound, studying the old fashioned hero and having certain thoughts. "Ahem. So...the Gentleman may not be too happy with dark Celtic gods on his turf? I guess we got to do more researching in this Hiram guy."

Carpenter looks a little amused at Grimm's reaction. "I feel like I should study Latin now, somehow." He then nods. "Yeah, that's an interesting lead. We should follow that thread."

Night Hound shrugs. "The Powers of Darkness play more games with each other than they do with the Light, Ms Grimm. Which is fortunate as they're more numerous," says the Night Hound after a moment. "And souls are the prize. It's why I'm a psychopomp now. Well, unofficially. I don't work for anyone, but I try to shepherd the lost to the next world."

Grimm chews on the inside of her lip a little. "...yeah, that's useful to know. So are other languages," she tries to play it cool. "But you haven't had much luck with those other ghosts? And you don't know much about magic. How'd you manage to...y'know...show my other self the dimensional door, so to speak?"

Carpenter nods at Grimm's question, and looks to Night Hound for the answer.

"I bluffed, Ms. Grimm. I gathered all the ghosts and spirits I knew and we showed up where she planned to enter the real from the Astral. And we made it seem like we spoke for all the restless dead. We told her we'd fight and possess and shred the souls of her warriors is she entered this world." He shrugs. "It seems to have worked. Her powers have less hold on the dead. We don't fear the darkness after all. Not mere physical darkness in any case."

"The fact I could find here even as she prowled in the Astral...bothered her. No one likes a hound on their trail," he adds.

"Whoa...well, that was a lucky bluff. If she did that in the past few years, maybe the truce is off. I don't suppose she had her, uh, right hand man with her, did she?" Gabrielle asks, thinking of that dimension's Carpenter.

Grimm grins a bit at hearing it bothered her. "I guess I better spend more time on the astral plane keeping an eye out for her."

"Remember, words matters, Ms. Grimm. I'd imagine you didn't include the near Astral of this dimension when you made your agreement with her. So, loophole," says the Night Hound as he lights yet another cigarette.

Grimm gasps at that. "Shick...you're right. Damn it! Well...I was a couple years younger, then. I didn't think of that."

Carpenter nods slowly. "Well...he wasn't here. That's something."

Night Hound murmurs, "No, she was alone. So, numbers were on our side as well. And, well, the minds of the dead are not the minds of the living. We are not so easily influence as the quick." The Night Hound then adds, "Well, because most of us wouldn't know the present from the past if Time itself hit us."

Grimm nods to Carpenter. "Yeah, it is." She looks back to Nighthound and grins faintly. "Remind me not to mess with the dead, then."

Night Hound looks down at his gravestone. "I'll speak with the kids, Detective Carpenter. And especially with Evan." He then says, "And feel free to stop by when you like. I'm around here a lot, the cemetery attracts all sorts after all. And then, I can also be found out on patrol to the various places of the dead in the city to scoop up the lost ones."

Carpenter nods. "Thanks for the help. We appreciate it."

Grimm says to Nighthound, "Just make sure they stay out of trouble and stop committing crimes." She looks to Carpenter after. "So...what now?"

Carpenter nods in agreement with Grimm. "Now...I think we look further into the magic that Hiram had access to. Something is off there."

"I got someone who can help me look into that," Gabrielle says. She looks to Nighthound. "Umm, thanks for the help."

Evan chuckles. "I will offer my advice, but I cannot physically prevent them from doing anything, Ms. Grimm. I /am/ a ghost after all, not a spectre," he then says.

"Happy to be of service. Come by if you need me and be safe." The man tips his fedora to the two of you, his face somehow remaining in shadow then walks away whistling softly. To someone who's heard old music, it's a song called, 'Blow, Gabriel, blow.'

Carpenter nods, "Thank you again for the help."

"Yeah...thanks again." Grimm makes note of the location of the grave, and looks to Jack again. She takes a breath and starts to walk towards the main gate.

Carpenter follows Grimm toward the main gate. "Well...that was interesting."

Grimm is a little comfortable with her thoughts. "Huh? Yeah...that was different," she says, distracted. "So, this Hiram guy...and his master. I'm not sure how to get to them yet. Maybe it's a job I should see Night Marshal for?" she looks to him, keeping her voice low.

Carpenter nods slowly. "Yeah, probably. I think it would require a different method than I can personally follow as a cop. I mean, we don't have any proof he committed a crime. At least nothing admissible."

"And if it's magical or related to dark gods, I don't know that there will be. Hiram has a pretty distinctive magical signature with that torc of his. I may be able to track where else he's gone since the pawn shop." Grimm looks and and frowns. "Teach them to call me floozy..."

Carpenter nods. "Well, let's leave that to tomorrow. Once you can hook up with Night Marshal, so you have some backup."

Grimm nods, going along with it. "Oh yes. I definitely want to hook up with Night Marshal for this," she says, a hint of double meaning at the words 'hook up'. "Hopefully the trail isn't already too hard to follow." She's distracted again, frowning faintly.

Carpenter nods. "Well, we would just need to get close to Hiram again to pick up on it, right?"

Grimm nods. "Yeaaah. That's true. And I doubt he's worried enough to hide or skip town."

Carpenter nods. "You're probably right. I can't imagine that he believes we'll follow up investigating him."

Grimm shrugs. "Or think we can't touch him because there's nothing on him." She stops outside the cemetery gates and turns to Jack. "Want me to take us back to your place? And return your senses back to normal?"

Carpenter nods. "That sounds like a good plan."

Grimm reaches out to take his hand. Hers is a bit chilly. A few seconds later, the two vanish from the street in a swirl of darkness.