Martin sat there, a smoke lit hanging in the corner of his mouth and his stare lingering into the void beside them that contained the floor. It was still difficult to accept. The man has helped him in so many ways, he barely even started to pay him back. And now...he never can. Not even a single goodbye. Funny how life can just drastically change like that. It was only with the encircling responses that he remembered he was part of a conversation with fellow acquaintances. None known to him - a reminder of how little he actually knew Abraham - but all must have meant dearly to Abraham to receive the same package.
His tired eyes shifted to the waiter. "As for me, as well. Thank you." His voice was soft, lightly flavoured with a strong British accent. The attention moved from the waiter back to his companions who was already underway of introducing one another. A slight smirk formed on his face with a soft exhale of air through his nose, when the one known as Kent Butler mentioned that they should be happy to have known Mr. Broder. "If I were to guess-" Martin started, looking towards Tristan. "-I imagine Mr. Broder believes- believed we had whatever skills to uncover what he couldn't. Whatever that is however, he didn't want people finding out. Only way to find out why, is to find out what it is, I suppose." He rose his right hand up to his chin, rubbing a gentle stubble that layered his jawline. "Personally, I wonder how this Stephanie Ramirez ties into all of it..." His voice trailed off along with the thought.
"Forgive my manners, my train of thought got the best of me. Martin Stone, Mr Broder helped me get settled down shortly before I joined with the Post and Courier. Perhaps you've seen a couple of my pieces?" He chuckled, rolling the smoke to the other corner of his mouth. His eyes returned to Tristan. "You said the rock was unfamiliar to you? Perhaps from somewhere out of the states?"