<hr/><div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/f/f2/Beardycox.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Avery Burnam<br/><strong>Faction:</strong>Law Dogs (1)<br/><strong>Date:</strong>May 18th, 1876<br/><strong>Time of Day:</strong>Morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Helga’s Wafflehaus<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Charlie Flatbush; CLOSED<br/><hr/><br/>Avery joined Deputy Flatbush at the edge of the mesa, peering out over the wide clear skies of a new day's dawn.  He had heard much about the beauty of the American West before coming out here, and as with most such things, it had been largely exaggerated, but there remained some truth to it.  These vast scenic landscapes were ones he would not have found a match for at home.  There was a certain majesty to it…at least until Charlie started repainting the horizon with the contents of his stomach, at which point he turned his back, finding sudden interest in the Wafflehaus’s architecture instead.<br/><br/>"Coffee it is," he answered amiably once the man had emptied out and rejoined him.  "Although if you change your mind about the breakfast, but say the word.  I understand the sausage they serve here is as plumb and greasy as you'll find, and the syrup, why, sweet and thick as porridge…"  If there seemed to be a slight smile tugging at the edge of the detective's lips, surely it was offset by his ever so dry serious tone.<br/><br/>Once the coffee had been delivered -- tea, actually, in his own case -- Avery returned to the topic at hand.  "Just whatever you can tell me, of course.  I find the whole thing quite fascinating.  I understand you caught the killer though?  Some slip of a girl? That must have been rather a surprise for you all.   Hard to believe a woman capable of such bloodletting, really."