Carlton darted into the little shop with his PDA in hand, looking at the conversation he had been carrying on with Juliet. He still wasn't sure that Spencer had absolutely nothing to do with this whole entire mess and so showing the most concern for his partner, he felt, was the more important thing. And hell, he hadn't even spoken to Guster at this point, had last seen his name posting some terrible Michael Jackson lyrics on the network, and he hadn't bothered to respond.
Carlton looked around the shop frantically and was relieved to find her there. O'Hara meant normalcy, and he sure needed some of that right about then. He darted over to her table, shoving the PDA in the pocket that wasn't smooshed down by the gun in the holster on his hip. "O'Hara," He said, trying to look cool and collected. "I. . am glad you're all right and . . .here and everything."
He cleared his throat and looked around before sitting down with her, whispered to her as if he thought that someone else may have been there listening. "We need to find a way out of here, fast. I have a really bad feeling."