Mitch's eyebrows (one of them was slashed with an old scar) shot up when she said new and he glanced around.
"Well I could sure use an assistant Miss Johnson," he said, "Why don't we go have a chat about it in my office?"
He hesitated, checked his watch, and then nodded. He had time. He had time, and he didn't want a crowd to gather. There were already some people in the bullpen peering over at the two of them. Well, Mneme, mostly. They were used to the Sheriff.
Mitchell led her through a short hallway and opened the door into a cluttered office that smelled strongly of coffee. There was a box of donuts in the middle of his desk that he very quickly cleared away, his smile sheepish as he gestured for her to have a seat.
"Just how new are you?" Mitch asked, "You seem like you've got a pretty good handle on things."
He only got the profiles of dangerous supernaturals that came in, so he couldn't be entirely sure if she was the kind of 'new' he was thinking of.