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Craft, who had been incredibly silent till that moment shrugged.
"Molly seemed to ... need some fresh air. Immediately... A few others went out to check on her."
He wasn't sure what Molly had seen, but her was rather certain it wasn't a spider. He took a drink of his beer and frowned, "I'm getting the strange feeling we're in for an interesting night."
Rourke sighed quietly, and reached for his glass of water. "probably right." He kept his seat angled so that he could see the door, and his gaze drifted that way more than once. Wondering what had happened.
Molly nods in response to Sarah and Marcos, and quietly goes back inside. She is still embarrased about freaking out, and she can't really explain it currently either, so she just stays silent as she goes back inside and sits down back at her seat. She doesn't touch her food though, the whole thing has killed any appetite she might have had.
Rourke nods to Molly as she returns, a 'hey, welcome back' gesture. He wanted to ask if she was alright but he could tell by her body language that she seemed a bit embarrassed, so he decided to check in with her later.
Marcos follows just a few paces behind Sarah and Molly, stopping only to cast a glance over his shoulder at the forests beyond before stepping back into the Firs. Any trace of concern that might have lingered on his face vanishes the second that he sees the feast that awaits him. A whole other half-rack of baby back ribs, on the house? How can he not smile about that?
The young sailor sets himself down in his chair and, after studying Molly a moment, says friendlily, "You can have some of mine if you don't like yours." Then, he looks to those who stayed behind at the table. "So, we're sleeping here for the night, right? In real beds?" He grins hopefully.
Craft nods at the trio as they return to the table, "Hope a bit of fresh air helped..."
He has to grin as Marcos suggests spending the night at the Firs. "You guys can, if you think a good night's rest on soft comfy beds will help. I'm going to set up camp out there though. Can't say I've had much chance for recreational camping in the past five years or so, so sleeping on the cold hard ground in a cramped tent will be a nice change of pace."
He doesn't bother to add that having eyes, awake or otherwise, in multiple locations might help narrow down what is going around Hemlock Falls.
"It's up to you guys. Still only lunchtime, after all." She gets back to her own meal, but looks at Craft. "If you want, I can take you to the proper campsite, past the falls. You and anyone else who wants to camp. Or you can set up at the smaller campground out there." She picks up and dips a fry, then adds "The main campsite's only three hours away, at a slow walk." Eats the fry.
"I'll join you for the hike," Marcos starts, between big mouthfuls of fried chicken, "Then head back here for the night. I need to walk some of this off." He points at his plate (which is still full of food even though he's been working on it for a good few minutes) with the wing bone in his hand.
The group was deep into their discussion when the doors to the bar opened and a middle-aged man in uniform strode into the room, visibly upset. Rourke would recognize him as Barry from the police station.
The barman looked immediately concerned, and left the counter to go meet the man halfway. "Officer Hummel. I guess this isn't a social call."
Barry shook his head, then patted his forehead with a hanky. "Hello, Joe. No, it really isn't, I'm so sorry. It's Lisbeth, see." He sighed, loudly. "She's dead."
Craft nods at Rourke and then points a french fry at Marcos, "That's the spirit."
Craft glances towards the officer at the mention of 'dead'. Sure, a local of Hemlock Falls could have passed on naturally... but it could also be connected to whatever was going on in the small town. He turns back to his food, but listens carefully.
Molly just makes a gesture to politely decline Marco's offer, and otherwise just sits quietly through the discussions on sleeping arrangements.
Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, while she does glance over at the officer when he enters, she remains unmoved when he starts talking about the death. In her head, she's filing away the death under the designation Patient 1, and she thinks for a moment that it's rather callous of her, but necessary if she is to keep focus. Not much information to remember currently yet.
Sarah stops eating the moment she hears that Lisbeth's dead. She is silent, listening, and looks grieved but not heartbroken - as one would be on hearing of the death of an acquaintence.
After a moment, she speaks quietly, so as not to disturb the officer or the bartender. "Lisbeth spoke often on the radio." Then she resumes listening to the Officer.
Marcos raises his eyebrows. If the police officer came all the way out here to deliver the news in person... iiiit doesn't bode well. He offers Sarah a sympathetic look, as well, but for once, he actually stays silent. He has a feast to devour, after all.
Sarah shakes her head. "Just from the radio. It gets lonely on firewatch, you start to feel like you know them." She goes quiet, and tries to make herself eat. Free meal, try to enjoy it Sarah.
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