the bones of our past - Lockwood x Lucy

Breaking In, Breaking Out

A/N: We have a very important introduction to make this chapter as one more character will be joining in on the fun :).

Also this and next chapter were originally supposed to be one, but it got WAY too big so I had to split it up. This means that after this chapter, there will still be three full chapters and one mini-chapter serving as a bridge before we get to part 2.

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"Ernest Boone was my great-grandfather," Lucy told her two friends breathlessly, and her mind felt shattered.

She barely noticed as George took all of the letters Boone had written Joan Carlyle straight out of her hands and poured over them, exclaiming, after a short while, that they might just be the missing puzzle piece they needed to figure out what had really happened in October of 1949.

"When we go into the Mill," she heard him argue, "for all we know, there's a good possibility we might not just be up against Boone's victims, but against him, too. Maybe even against Wythburn. We still don't know what happened to either of them."

"I reckon Boone probably murdered Wythburn, didn't he?" Lockwood told George, but she could feel his concerned gaze focusing on her. It was what helped her break out of her stupor, in the end: those soft eyes so familiar to her. "During your vision, you said Wythburn didn't know about the killings. That he would've tried helping the victims if he had. Maybe exactly that happened."

George nodded, only half-listening, his eyes staying glued on the paper. "Yeah, could be. It's the most probable option. There's a good chance he's a part of the fog, already, if he did come back."

"But if Wythburn is innocent," Lucy frowned, voice and thoughts still slow, her head still feeling whiplashed, "then what did he get that... arrest warrant for?

"Do any of you know what was actually produced in Wythburn Mill back in the day? Before it was built to be more like a multifunctional factory hall, I mean?" George asked them, and somehow he guessed that both Lockwood and Lucy had shaken their heads without looking up.

"Flour, among other things," he answered his own question.

A few beats of silence followed.

"And?" Lockwood prodded after George had obviously and wrongly assumed his former statement was answer enough.

His eyes flitted up to them. "Lucy, you said something about Boone grinding his victims' bones up."

It took about four seconds for Lockwood and her to add two and two together, and they shared a disgusted look as they did.

"Please don't tell me my great-grandfather-"

"Ground up people's bones and mixed them into his best friend's flour? No problem, I'll be sure not to mention it," George finished for her.

Lucy gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, exactly that. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he gave back, not unkindly. "The townspeople must've noticed the taste after a while. Or maybe Boone messed up one time and left a whole bone inside, who knows? But seeing as he was killing and dismembering his victims in the place Wythburn owned, it's plausible the police got it wrong and assumed it was Wythburn instead of Boone."

"God, I don't blame them for keeping that out of the newspapers," Lockwood shuddered. "Nasty business." He stopped for a second to think. "Especially if you're one of the police officers who failed to catch him."

"Yeah, no wonder that arrest warrant was blacked out," Lucy agreed. "Boone must've gotten wind of it when the police went out to arrest Wythburn. He must've decided to take matters into his own hands."