After Sylar had arrived, Lindsey had shown him to the bedroom and then given him the room he needed to work. Meanwhile across the hall, he'd located a bucket and a bottle of bleach under the sink. He wiped off the tools he'd used thoroughly to remove the prints and then dumped them in the bucket. It might've been overkill but he'd seen one too many cases where all it had taken was a single partial or a little bit of DNA and there was no way in hell he was giving his old employers that kind of leverage. Maybe they'd know but proving it would be another matter.
From their conversation over the boards, he'd already started to respect the man. His views, at least, when it came to taking sides and the ideals that came with it. That and he was getting some screams worthy of a B horror movie out of the mystic, who in his humble opinion deserved it all and more.
Kicking the bucket in between the toilet and the bathtub, he headed out of the bathroom and leaned against the far wall, listening with half a mind. The other was already racing ahead, taking stock of what they might need, who they might need, and what would need to happen. He pulled out his phone to send a text to Sarah when he realized it had gotten quiet. Lindsey pushed away from the wall and ventured over to the door, knocking on it with his knuckles before he gave the door a push. "Anything?"