Lynx considers his findings for a time, wondering if he could perhaps track the dirt to its point of entry and see if there were larger dirt clods or prints. He didn't want to press his luck, having already requested temporary assignment to the case and bothering the other agents with questions. They might have already seen the footprints, or seen none because there might be none. Yet it seemed unlikely the partial footprint wouldn't have a trail of matching ones.
Donning foot coverings from the equipment vehicle, Jaeger returns to the building entrance to have a look at the lobby and stairwell, looking specifically to dirt clods and footprints. If anyone asks him what he's doing he'll say he's just having one last look.
Try as Jaeger might, he simply cannot find anything else that might help him.
Remarkably, the lack of over signs of obvious intrusion could be telling. Someone knew precisely how to cover their physical tracks. It was easy to see why so little evidence had actually been recovered.
Jaeger exited the building, the crime scene, once again. As he pulled off his coverings he sighed which come out more as a groan. This was all he could do for his partner, and he could imagine the rude scolding tone of the man berating him for overlooking some basic detail or wasting his time when there were already plenty of agents assigned to the task. Even still he wondered if he could contact the lab the next day to hear about the results of the evidence. Probably everyone in the department would be curious about it even if they weren't talking about it.
Jaeger heads to his car, disgruntled, and slides into the driver's seat, pulling out a cigarette from his jacket pocket and lighting up. He rolled down the window a bit and scanned the scene of DHS trucks and agents. Hold on, Dee, we'll find you. Once the cigarette was ashed he flicked it out onto the road and drove off back to headquarters.
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