"Something's happened to Spencer."

Spencer's trailer is easy enough to find -- there's only so many roads that lead out of Eureka, and the only area with enough wooded areas for Spencer's paranoia to settle down and yet enough open space to work on his car and construct his own free-standing satellite dish is a grand total of ten minutes north of Tesla High School.

Jack drove Jo out to the trailer, Henry following in his tow truck. None of them are speaking as they pile out and begin to look around.
Jack never liked school. He was good enough at it to work his way up to US Marshal, of course, but the bonus of that was in between law memorization and the bizarrely mandatory higher mathematics courses, there was weapons training.

It balanced out.

What wasn't balancing out at the moment was Jack's attention on the far-too-ominous stack of stapled paper.

A paper test. About guns. Life was not fair.

With a huff, Jack caps his standard-issue ballpoint to place it down on his standard-issue desk, and he handed it to his deputy across the police station office to grade.

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December 2008

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