"Right. It's only your enthusiasm for the window breakin' that I'm questionin'."

His arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the closest desk to stare, half furious, at the puzzle before him that he'd been consumed with for months.

"We get there, we're walkin' in the front door. I can't promise that gettin' there will stop this but it's the next place to start. There's something there. Something important... How are you at remembering maps," he asked suddenly, looking her way with a new intensity.

The Marshal had an idea, for a backup plan, at least.