The doorknob clicked gently, and I turned from the stove to catch sight of Ashley peering through the door. "Hey, are you busy?" Noticing the worry flickering within her gaze, I shook my head and offered her to come in. "No, you're fine. Is everything alright?" She heaved a dull sigh while I made sure the stove was off, her footsteps drawing closer. "I'm… worried about William." Her voice was quiet, holding a soft tone that did little to mask the nervous tremble in her words. Faded eyes glanced at me with both concern and confusion held for the woodworker. "He started becoming more distant ever since the murders happened. Well, I know everyone has been cautious of each other lately. But this just… feels different." I hummed in acknowledgment, unsure of how to respond, yet trying to come up with a solution, nonetheless. Fingertips drummed on the countertop with no exact pattern as I spoke, curiosity a withered lilt throughout my words. "How is he avoiding you differently? I know that Christopher and Harold avoiding us may seem a bit strange, since they're usually the most sociable. William has always been one to keep to himself, you've said so yourself before." Ashley nodded at my words, although her eyes flashed with a newfound worry now.
She piped up after biting her lip and shuffling her worn sneakers on the white-tiled floor, which was stained an almost tan color from yearly wear. "You certainly have a point, when it comes to that. Although his distance isn't the only thing that I'm concerned about." I tilted my head in a gesture for her to continue as she took a breath. "He's never been one for small talk, but he usually doesn't outright refuse to answer questions and avoid important topics." My eyes widened slightly, shock replacing previous curiosity and raising red flags. Subconsciously, I straightened myself. "So you're trying to figure out why he won't answer your questions?" She nodded, her shoulders stiff and lips tightly curled. "Yeah, for some reason he won't tell me what the police told him. Not to mention, he's also been refusing to acknowledge anything I bring up to him in hindsight about the murders." Her eyes narrowed whilst my brows furrowed together, a rigid and haunting suspicion on the connection between William and the murders. My thoughts were quick to begin reeling, with my once clamped jaw hung partially open from realization and shock. Ashley stared at me, unrelenting as if she already knew the truth, but didn't want to believe it. My expression however, caused her to steel herself as the hope within that pleading gaze went out like a light. Despite the renewed heaviness filling the air, Ashley voiced another truth. "The only thing left to question is what could be the motive." I grasped her line of vision with unfocused eyes, my usually tactful mind at a loss for words.
I must have repeated her question out loud without realizing it, if her barely restrained wince was anything to go by. Regaining control of my voice, I spoke in a quieter tone while glancing at the door. "You're the one that's closest to him, what sort of motive do you think would drive him?" She only appeared more distraught as I prompted her, sight flicking towards the closed door before catching my gaze. The only response I received was a shake of her head. Even his good friend can't think of any motives that would cause him to kill. Ashley's next words sent a wave of relief through me. "The motive is going to be hard to pinpoint, but at least I know that he doesn't suspect any of us holding suspicion towards him." I breathed a sigh, shoulders loosening from the liberty of some weight being lifted off. "That's good. All that's left to do is to figure out the motive. I don't think we have to worry about telling Christopher and Harold, since they've been sticking together recently." She nodded, deep in thought as a shred of light bestowed her eyes again. "You're right, as long as they continue that buddy system of theirs, they should be safe. William's clever enough to know that going after one of them wouldn't be wise." I felt a flicker of my own hope returning to light while I nodded. As long as we stick together, there's a greater chance at solving the motives behind the murders.
A smile was cast in my direction, small yet relieved. Ashley paused to look at the clock above the large window, before turning back to me. "I should probably get back to work now. Thank you, though. We'll get through all of this, if the four of us stick together." I offered her a thankful grin in return, a slight tug of my lips that came naturally. "Yeah, we'll get past the cases together. Good luck on painting, the helicopter model that came in doesn't look easy!" The lights in her eyes brightened, nose scrunching up as she chuckled in good humor before waving farewell. The door was left open, revealing Christopher silently mouthing the words to whichever song was playing from his headphones. A sigh escaped my lips, breathing falling more slowly as I pondered any possible ideas for the motive. An idea came to mind, albeit a risky one. How would he react to finding a body that he didn't kill? I wouldn't consider myself a good actor, but I could play dead if I planned it right. My thoughts went to that old frying pan that was slightly rusted and needed to be tossed soon. If he realized that his two killings went this far, would he feel guilty enough to stop? Before I could question my sudden idea further, I noticed Christopher heaving a sigh and slipping his headphones off. He turned to me, a light smile playing at his lips as he walked in my direction. "Hey, Jolene. I forgot to ask earlier, but I wanted to offer to grab the mail. Since you're usually always the one stuck doing it." I blinked, surprised yet grateful of the kind gesture.
"Sure, I'll take your offer. Thank you, and be careful." The mechanic hummed in acknowledgement, eyes lighting up some at being able to help. Christopher always did say that he found joy in helping others. With a simple nod, he replied with an easy-going smile. "Thanks! I figured since everyone knows me and Harold have been sticking together, the chances of whoever the killer is will be less likely to go after one of us. May as well use that to help as much as I can." A genuine smile curled my lips upwards at his kindness, before a sudden clank had both of our gazes dropping to the ground. There was a silver watch on the floor. Christopher huffed and picked it up before slipping the object into the right pocket of his jeans. "Late birthday gift, for my mother. The package didn't arrive on time… should have ordered it sooner." I nodded at his statement, while my gaze drifted to his slightly troubled eyes. They were glinting with annoyance towards the mailing system and fondness for his mother. Withdrawal seemed to mimic it's unruly self in his movements, as he tucked his hands into his pockets and nodded at me. "Well, I'm going to grab the mail, now. See you soon." We bid each other farewell as I stepped back into the kitchen, debating on closing the door for a moment. Deft fingers grasped the handle of the oldest frying pan while putting everything away. I sat down and closed my eyes, telling myself that I'll survive. A resounding thud echoed in the kitchen. Gasping for air. I was wrong.