Cath looked a bit weary, but that was more from the exhausting instance with his wife. He poured himself a cup of coffee and then offered the pot and a cup to Sean.
"Have a seat, mate," he offered. He'd had minimal injuries from New Year's Eve and honestly, besides the nasty mark on his face, his injuries were all superficial and mostly pleasantly induced.
Cath pushed the handkerchief towards the FBI agent. "Found these on deck in a smear of blood. Wasn't quite dry yet, but with this sort of humidity, that doesn't mean much." He leaned back and took a drink of his coffee.
"Didn't find any blood drops nearby. Just the smear and bits of teeth." He let out a long breath. "Ms. Wood said that there wasn't anybody reported with that sort of injury last night. I'd like to think it was an unfortunate accident, but something's not right about it."
Cath trusted his instincts. They'd kept him alive a long time.