Thomas and William sat in the living room silently. A rare occurrence. It was an odd dynamic without Edward, but it did not hinder them from having fun at his expense. "I wonder when he's going to return?" William asked, honestly wanting to know the answer. "Eh, who knows," Thomas said as his body slouched even further into the couch. "Well, what are we going to do about production? The team is coming here next week." "Well, we can't wait for him; if he's not back, then he's not back. We are starting either way." William opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Thomas jumped in. "I know what you're going to say; it's Edward's design, I know. If this weren't a time-sensitive scenario, I wouldn't do this." William nodded. "He would do the same if it were one of us." "That's true; he would." "I'm not going to worry about it until we need to; we have time. Why wouldn't he return soon? He wasn't close to his father." "I don't know much about his family." The men both sat facing in the direction of the bay window. It was opened a tiny bit, and slender snippets of air slithered into the room.

The wind was a refreshing touch on a sunny day. Their silence was interrupted by the sound of someone's knuckles rapping on the front door. William stood; Thomas put his hand out, a gesture telling him not to bother. "I have to...." He said. "What if it's important?" Thomas rolled his eyes. "You're too nice, and it never is." William politely listened to his words from the hallway then continued to the front door. Another tap occurred just as he pulled open the door. "Can I help you? Oh, good afternoon Carol." "Aw honey, you're so polite; how's Edward coming on?" She handed him a canvas bag. "He's still away. I did talk to him on the telephone the night he arrived in Butler." He looked down at the bag she was holding. "Just some homemade dinner for you boys. I figured you could use it." "Oh my, that's so nice of you." Would you like to come in?" She peered past him and lowered her voice: "Is, um, is Thomas home?" "He is." He said, laughing. "I better not then; he scares me quite a bit." William put his head down, nodding. "I understand." "Are you sure I can't offer you anything?" "There is one thing, I'm alone a lot. Would you come to my house tomorrow night for dinner, alone... obviously?" "Oh, of course, I would be happy to." "Good." She said. "Well, enjoy the food, see you tomorrow. Let's say around five." "Sounds lovely." He said, a bit surprised by her overwhelming influx of kindness. "What was that about?" Thomas asked, annoyed that he answered the door in the first place. "What's that?" He said, pointing to the bag. "It was Carol; she made us some dinner." Thomas bent his lip down and nodded his head with an approving frown. "Not bad, maybe she isn't that horrible...No; actually, she is." William shook his head and went to the kitchen to unload the bag. "Does that mean you're not going to eat what she made?" "No, I'm not stupid; a free meal is a free meal." William laughed. They sat in the dining room.

To break the awkward feeling, they started to talk about Edward. "How much do you want to bet Edward really has found a wife there and is not coming back. ". "Oh, I hope not; he would unquestionably do that... Eh, that makes me sick; we don't need anyone else here." "I'm sure he will be back before he finds a woman." "Let's hope, I mean he's so short, maybe he won't even come across a woman shorter than him." They laughed. Thomas and William spent at least an hour making fun of him. In the end, they realized it was not nearly as fun as when they made fun of him to his face.

They had little to do the next day. William had dinner with Carol, which was uneventful. She asked him about his work and he asked about her son. She asked him to come back again. He agreed. William didn't have much work since Edward's design was picked and not his. They just had to wait to work out the details for their deal.

William sat on the edge of his bed. The lights were off, and the window was shielded by the drapes; they weren't nearly as thick as the drapes in the living room, but they kept a decent amount of the light out.

The bedroom was shadowed but not dark because it was still daytime. There was about a centimeter gap between the curtain and the window, which let in natural light. The natural light from that one window was the only source of light, which left the room in a murky shadow. It was like the haze of an evening in the summer. When William returned to Carol's house the next day, the dynamic was a lot different. It was less friendly and much more tense. They were joined by Carol's son David Ray. He was in his late twenties and seemed very overprotective of his mother. William could quickly tell he did not like any surprises or uncertain outcomes. Even his clothes were meticulously ironed. That night Carol wanted to talk about the car company. No matter what the topic changed to, she would bring it back to the Copan. William thought it was odd, but he figured she was very isolated from anyone with his car knowledge, so he humored her. It wasn't until her son interjected, trying to quell her odd obsession, that William's former thoughts were verified.

Dinner finished without mentioning the topic, but when her son went to take out the garbage, she lowered her voice and leaned In. "Don't mind him; he's not any fun." William pursed his lips flat. "So, how fast do they go?" William laughed. He shook the notion of her questions being oddly obsessive and went back to thinking she was just a quirky old lady. "I can take you for a ride." She smiled at his offer but also looked taken aback. "Oh no, those are too monstrous for...."." I don't think so." Her son said. He returned abruptly as though he was listening in on them. She glared at him. William eventually left. He didn't like the dynamic Carol's son brought. . William told Thomas about David Ray. While William droned on, Thomas thought about other things.

That night the air got a lot colder than it had been. It was very dark out, and they had barely breached the late hours of the night. William wrapped himself in a thick blanket and snacked on popcorn while listening to the radio. Thomas was asleep, so he had to keep the volume very low, and to hear it, he was practically touching it with his ears, hunched over and anticipating every word.

They were both in the living room. Thomas has a habit of falling asleep on the couch. William would not have been so considerate, but he didn't want to deal with Thomas. When his program finished, he quietly clicked off the radio and walked into the hall. He walked over to make sure the front door was locked, and when he turned the knob, he saw a glimpse of someone or something moving around near their garbage can. He stood still watching for a moment and then realized that he wasn't watching a raccoon but a person. He stepped outside; the woman continued to dig. He walked closer. "Carol?" He said, completely confused that an old lady was digging through his garbage at night. Carol looked up. "Oh, hi, William." She said, smiling. She greeted him like they were casually passing in a department store. "What are you doing?" He asked, wondering if maybe her son was right to be concerned by some of her actions. "Trying to see what he was looking for" "Who?" William asked, partially curious and partially humoring her. "My son. I woke up to use the bathroom and saw a beam of light flash past my window. I looked out and saw my David digging through your garbage cans. He was very fast about it and left with some crumpled-up paper balls." William furrowed his brow; he tried to figure out if Carol was losing her mind or if she had uncovered something odd. "Does your son live with you?" He asked. "No, but the last few weeks, he's been over a lot, a lot more than he's ever been. You know... I'd like to think he's finally taken an interest in me, but I think he's obsessed with those." She gestured to the cars. "Interesting." He said to himself. "Would you like me to walk you home? She stood up and brushed off her knees. "Thank you," William was left with a disgruntled look on his face. His eyes were so scrunched they were almost closed.

He couldn't get the image of Carol digging through the garbage out of his head. He wanted to know what was happening with her and her son.

The next day when Thomas returned from lunch, William told him about the encounter. They realized that the only papers he could've pulled out of the garbage would have been scratched car sketches and specification information. Thomas called Sean to discuss the situation. He thought it would be better to talk to someone who knew them before he addressed them himself. William walked into the room just as Thomas hung up the phone. "Sean's going to investigate." "Ok, good. I'm glad you took my advice and called Sean before dealing with them yourself." "Well, that's not my style, but we don't have the time to deal with it. Are you ready to go?" "Hold on. I'm still cleaning up our breakfast plates." "Come on; we just ate; the food isn't going to rot while we're gone." "I guess..." William said.

William strode outside to start the car; he saw Carol fiddling with her mailbox. "Hi, sweety." She said, "Where are you headed out to?" "Oh, we are going to finalize the car deal." Carol looked shocked. "You mean you are setting up here permanently?" "Yeah, why?" He asked. "I thought you were just scouting this location; I didn't realize this was your final choice." "Yup." He said. "Ah, that's good!" She said, smiling.

They drove to the factory to check it out before they signed the final paperwork. It was a textile factory years before, but the company that owned it expanded, so they moved to a more prominent place, and the factory closed down. It had been for sale for a while, and it was rented out to various companies.

Roger was standing outside the factory's office entrance. He waited for the men to arrive. He had no idea that they would be driving there in a Copan, and he got excited when they pulled up. He tried to act professionally by walking to the car to greet them, but he was just trying to get a closer look at the vehicle. Thomas researched South Catma Industries a bit more since their last meeting; they were a prominent steel company and held a considerable fortune. Roger managed the lesser business details. Roger started the tour by leading them through the office door. The office was for the floor manager. It was small and cramped. He funneled them through the other door that led to the factory floor. Everything was either a rusty brown color or gray. The brown was mainly limited to wear and tear on the ancient metal walls and large doors that allowed big products to be pulled out.

The doors were big enough to pull their cars through. William noted that. Thomas told William to write down the features or anything he noticed during the tour. There were long tables in different sectors that were for additional production steps. There were many people in the factory; they rented it out whenever they could to smaller businesses that produced a gross of their product a few times a year.

The product lines were pretty standard, which made it great to use for different operations. "The Lucky Toy company is making their Gregtmas toys this month. They have occupied the buildings during October every year since this building was vacated."

They walked through the lines, and Roger suggested what sections could be applied to their production process. "You certainly did your homework," Thomas said. "That's my job," Roger said. "I have to make sure we find a place that is feasible and works with your requirements." William and Thomas looked at each other and exchanged a look that expressed that they were both impressed. They climbed the open staircase to the second story, which was a loft that looked over the factory floor. There were two huge offices. "Here, we can remodel this area to create three separate offices or one big one depending on what your preference is." He knocked on the office door, the temporary manager in charge of the toy production opened it. They stepped inside, and suddenly, there was a loud bang. The glass that covered the front of the office shattered. They covered their faces as the glass flew past them. William was the first to look over through the broken window. He saw a person on the second-floor platforms. The person was hidden by the shadows and a gray silhouette while running away. "What just happened?" Roger said. "Look." He yelled.

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The noise from the factory floor covered up the noise of the glass shattering. The toy manager, Clint, looked at what William was yelling about. He jumped past the other guys and hopped onto the platform. Thomas knelt looked at the wall behind them. The wall was made of softwood, and a bullet was nestled in it. "Look." He said. Roger looked, "oh my goodness! I thought the glass shattered from air pressure or something." "Nope. It looks like someone tried to shoot one of us."

The police came about ten minutes later. By then, they had left the main offices and were standing inside the tiny floor manager's office by their car. They figured it was the safest place since it didn't have any windows or any sites to hide.

The detective introduced himself; his name was Oliver Wenhom. He had been the lead detective at the local police station for ten years. In those ten years, he cycled through several partners, and at that moment, he didn't have one.

They explained who they were and what had happened. The detective explained that high-profile businesses often attract unwanted attention. "Just keep your eyes open."

"We aren't sure who the target was. It could be me or William, Roger or Clint. "Thomas said. The detective looked around. "The shooter looked like he was trying to warn someone. Do any of you have enemies or someone that comes to mind that could have the capacity to do this?" William shook his head. "I can't think of anyone either," Roger said. "Though I work for a high profile company too, there could be thousands of suspects."

The detective, Oliver Wenhom was about six feet and three inches tall, and his ethnicity was indeterminable. He was semi muscular, his hair was black, and his eyes were dark brown. The detective went home with the duo to get some information.

They began to talk, and William served them food. The detective revealed that they should post an officer at their house. Thomas thought his idea was a gross overreaction. "You can't be serious. We were shot at, and we don't even know if we were the targets." "There's a little more to it than that." The detective said. "What do you mean?" "Well, there have been a string of murders. They all start the same way. The victim gets shot at but never hurt, then a day or so later they are found dead by other means." "Oh," William said. "That does make things a little more serious." He looked at Thomas. The detective continued. "It's not really about protection per se. It's more about getting caught in the event. "Alright, we accept the protection," Thomas said. "Good, now let's start with some information. Have you come across anything weird lately? "I haven't noticed anything odd." What about that garbage can thing," Thomas said. William's eyes got wider. "Yeah, that might be something. Our neighbor Carol is a little old lady who has a son that visits her; he's pretty mean. Some weird stuff has been going on with them. Like, he never used to visit her, but ever since we moved in, he's been visiting her more often. Last night I saw her digging through our trash. Her son always alludes that she is senile, but when I asked her what she was doing, she said she saw her son digging through the trash and wanted to know what he was looking for. She is like the neighborhood's private eye." He said, laughing. "She has a notebook and loves writing every movement down." "Even her sons?" "Yes, I imagine so." "I'll check her out in the morning." They sat and ate, then talked for a bit. Everything was pretty professional until Thomas brought out the alcohol.

The detective stayed there that night, and it turned into a party. Thomas was a bad influence in general, but he was not as dangerous as William. Thomas was unmistakably a rough person; he was a fan of drinking and anything reckless. But William did all the same things and had the appearance of a straight-laced person. The detective fell under their umbrella of fun. Thomas began to drink to get over the incident; William started out slower than him. Detective Oliver Wenhom thought it couldn't hurt to have one scotch. That's all it took to get him to loosen up. They had an entertaining night playing cards and joking around.

The night trekked on, and the detective eventually fell asleep on the couch. He was offered Edward's bed, but he wasn't interested.

He, like any stereotypical detective, had on a leather shoulder holster that hid his guns under his jacket, which he slept with while he was there. The fall chill moved into their bones as the morning approached. The three of them ate breakfast together.

They sat together in the living room for a portion of the afternoon. The detective was going through papers and writing a list. Detective Wenhom was drinking coffee when Thomas darted, and he spilled the coffee on his shirt. He jumped up. "Damn it." He said to himself. He set his cup down, pulled off his holsters, and removed his shirt. He was wearing an undershirt. His skin was darker under his clothes than the skin that appeared when he was wearing a suit.

It was not much darker, but just enough to notice that it was odd. He was distinctly Italian, and William suspected that race and appearance played a bigger part in the police force in America than in England. He knew it wasn't ever black vs. white; it was much more complicated than that.

He returned to the living room with his shirt and holster back on. His shirt was damp, but he didn't care. He didn't plan on staying around after he finished his paperwork.

The trees in their yard had almost completely shed their leaves, and they carpeted the grass like a festive carpet. The detective put his jacket on and went to visit Carol. Carol's son David Ray was there, and as Detective Wenhom expected, he was not friendly. "I heard you keep a journal of everyone's activities around here?" The detective asked Carol. She smiled. "Yes! Would you like to see it?" Before she could stand up, her son shut her down. "I don't think that's a good idea, mom. Sit down; you're getting over a cold." David Ray led Detective Wenhom into the kitchen and told him that all of her notes were sort of delusional, and he was trying to squash her obsessive behavior. "Would I be able to see the notebook anyway? I can determine for myself if it's worth my time." "I would rather you didn't." He said."

The detective realized his efforts to see the notebook were not going to be successful until David Ray wasn't there, so he returned to Thomas's house.

Carol's son thought the detective had left the neighborhood because there wasn't a police vehicle anywhere. Carol watched him enter the men's house and waited for her son to leave for work. She had her notebook hidden under the living room couch cushion. Carol dug out the notebook then ran over to her neighbors. The detective answered the door and smiled when he saw what Carol was holding. He welcomed her in, but she said she couldn't stay, so she handed him the notebook and ran back home. "That's odd; her son treats her like she's not athletic." He said to himself.

The sky was a haunting gray that morning. There were substantial fluffy dark clouds spraying light raindrops at random intervals. Detective Wenhom sat down on the couch and read through Carol's notebook. The room was very dark. There were two windows in the room, the bay window and a smaller window on the parallel wall. They never moved the thick curtain, so the left side of the room was always sulking in darkness.

Carol's notebook started a few months prior. Back then, she was still very active, but she broke her ankle and was starting to go stir crazy. Her nurse wheeled her to the bedroom window during the day, and she started to become entertained by the action outside. There wasn't a lot of action, but it broke up her boredom. She ended up needing to stay off her ankle longer than she expected, so she was stuck at her window even longer. By the time Edward, William and Thomas moved in; she was deep into her stalking hobby.

Detective Oliver Wenhom noticed that her son started to visit his mom more often since William, Edward, and Thomas moved there. He wasn't sure if she hadn't recorded his movements before or he suddenly started showing up. He wrote that down along with a few other questions in another notebook. Detective Wenhom left with the notebooks and returned to the police station.

William enjoyed the peace while Thomas was still asleep on the couch. Ultimately, he decided to head to his room. His bed there was higher than his bed at his home in Longbridge. It took him a while to get used to it; he was very particular about certain things. To him, beds were essential, and the slightest annoyance while trying to sleep led to a lot of unwanted anger. He wasn't as particular when he was drunk, but that wasn't a nightly occurrence.

When he was just getting comfortable, someone knocked on the front door. William groaned as he got up and slowly walked into the hallway. When he opened the door, he saw Roger standing there with a clipboard tucked under his arm. He always looked ready for a boardroom. "Oh, hello Roger, will you just give me one moment?" He asked. Roger nodded. William left the door open and ran into the living room. "Thomas!" He whispered into his ear. "Roger is here!" He placed his hand on his shoulder. "Who cares?" He said, still under the duress of sleep. "Thomas, money!" "I'm up!" He said. Thomas got up and left the room; William ran back to the door, "Sorry about that." He said. He welcomed him into the sitting room. The room was very bright that day; the windows were not covered by the thick curtains since the detective had opened them earlier. He gestured for him to sit down on the couch. "Tea?" "No, thank you." He said. "I wanted to talk about yesterday." "Yeah, that went differently than I expected." He said, laughing. Roger didn't laugh; he was too focused on his work. "South Catma Industries is ready to set up the deal officially this week if you're ready and if you like the factory." "Let me go get Thomas; he's going over some papers in the dining room, I think." He excused himself and went to the dining room. Thomas just finished eating and was trying to clean himself up. "Ready?" He asked. "Why the hell not." They returned to the living room

They set up a meeting two days away. Thomas wanted to get the deal signed as soon as possible, but he wanted Edward to be there. He figured that he could wait two days but not anymore. Thomas called Edward to tell him.

Detective Oliver Wenhom was still at the station by the time night rolled around. He ate dinner at his desk and looked over all of the notes he took with the time frames lined out. His methods for solving crimes were pretty meticulous. He drew out timelines. He liked being able to see where everything sat in a big picture sort of way. He had a few leads and a few suspects, but he still had a long way to go and didn't want them to panic or alert the public. He made sure all the necessary precautions were taken without revealing anything.

The leaves were gently drifting down from the trees outside the station. They had stunning dark red leaves that were waxy and large. They released themselves from the tree slowly and smoothly floated back and forth, cutting through the air while moving towards the ground. The leaves and strands of grass were wet. Each blade of grass fluttered under the peeking son. The droplets glistened under the oddly bright fall sky.

The air was not as cold as it was on most October days. The wind felt like a cupped hand scooping through a tepid bath rather than haunting icy daggers. William tossed on a wool scarf that did not match his wool sweater at all. His sweater was dark green with a hint of brown, and the scarf was blue with red stripes.

He walked outside, grabbed a rake that was by standing up against the wall near the door, and started raking the leaves away from the sidewalk. He didn't think raking leaves off the grass was necessary, but he did consider getting them away from the sidewalk was critical in preventing slipping accidents. The slick sidewalk wouldn't have been a problem if everything wasn't wet,

The phone rang, and William looked through the front window to see if Thomas was going to answer it. He didn't see him at first, but by the third ring, he popped into the room and picked up the receiver. William went back to raking.

Looking down at the ground caused his hair to flop in front of his eyes. While he was looking away from the leaves, something caught his eye.

There was a black car sitting in front of the empty house at the edge of the cul de sac. He froze and watched it discreetly for a few minutes. He was interrupted by Thomas, who opened the front door and told William to join him inside. Thomas brought a tea kettle from the kitchen into the sitting room. "Tea?" "Yes." The tea was full-bodied English, which was brewed in the pot.

"Who was on the phone?" William asked, breaking the silence. "Oh, yeah... that's what I was doing." He laughed. "It was Detective Oliver Wenhom; he said he is coming over later today to talk about the incident." "It must be serious, or he would have told us over the phone." "Maybe."