The little diner on Main Street was bathed in the soft glow of its neon sign as Lucas stepped inside. The scent of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon greeted him, a small comfort in the otherwise tense atmosphere of Ashwood. He spotted Tom in the far corner, hunched over a cup of coffee, his eyes scanning the room with a mix of curiosity and detachment. Tom was the kind of man who always seemed to know a little more than he let onâa local fixture with a reputation for being both insightful and elusive.
Lucas approached the table, pulling out a chair across from Tom. The older man glanced up, his eyes sharp and knowing. "Lucas," he greeted, his voice gravelly. "Heard you've been busy. Finding bodies and stirring the pot."
"Just doing my job," Lucas replied, settling into the seat. "Seems like you've got a knack for knowing things, Tom. Figured you might have some insight into what's happening around here."
Tom chuckled, a low, almost sinister sound. "Insight? That's a fancy word for gossip. But sure, I've heard things. Ashwood's full of whispers these days."
Lucas leaned forward, his interest piqued. "Tell me. What are people whispering about?"
Tom took a slow sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving Lucas. "It's not just the murders that have folks on edge. It's the little things, the strange occurrences that don't make the papers. Odd lights out by the old quarry. And then there's the matter of Michael Ward."
Lucas felt a chill run down his spine. "What about Michael?"
Tom's eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Michael was no ordinary mason. He had a side job, one he didn't advertise. He was a collectorâof secrets, mostly. People came to him when they had things they didn't want anyone else to know. And now, he's dead. Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"
Lucas's mind raced with possibilities. "Secrets? What kind of secrets?"
Tom leaned back, a sly smile playing on his lips. "The kind that people kill for. Michael knew things about this town, things that were supposed to stay buried. He had a little black book, they say, filled with names and details. But here's the thingâno one's found it yet. And I reckon whoever killed him was looking for it."
Lucas felt the weight of the conversation settle over him. "Do you think the killer found it?"
Tom shook his head slowly. "Doubt it. If they had, we wouldn't be having this conversation. No, that book's still out there, somewhere. And whoever finds it will have the whole town in the palm of their hand."
Lucas considered this, his mind turning over the new information. "What about the other murders? Do you think they're connected?"
Tom's expression darkened. "Maybe. Or maybe there's more than one player in this game. Ashwood's got a long memory, Lucas, and not all of it's pleasant. There's been bad blood in this town for yearsâold grudges, long-standing feuds. The kind of stuff that doesn't just go away."
Lucas nodded, understanding the gravity of Tom's words. "What about you, Tom? You seem to know a lot. What's your part in all this?"
Tom chuckled again, a bitter edge to his laughter. "Me? I'm just the observer. I've seen things, sure, but I keep my nose clean. Doesn't mean I don't have my own ghosts, though. We all do, in a town like this."
There was a moment of silence between them, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air. Lucas could sense that there was more to Tom's story, more to the town's story, but he knew better than to push too hard. Information came in pieces, and sometimes, the pieces didn't fit together until much later.
"One more thing," Tom said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you're looking for answers, you might want to pay a visit to each resident."
Lucas frowned. "Each resident? Why?"
Tom's eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. "Because sometimes, the answers are in the people and in the places they leave behind. And this town has seen more than its fair share of dark days."
With that, Tom stood, leaving a few bills on the table. "Be careful, Lucas. Ashwood's a place where the past never stays buried. And the deeper you dig, the darker it gets."
Lucas watched as Tom walked out into the night, the door swinging shut behind him. He sat there for a moment, processing everything he'd just heard. The pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together, but the picture they formed was still shrouded in mystery.
He finished his coffee, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue, and stood. There was work to be done, and the residents seemed like the next logical step. If Tom was right, the answers Lucas sought were out there, hidden in the shadows of Ashwood's past.
And he was determined to find them, no matter where they led.