[ There's a reply forming that she knows better than to let out -- something about who knows, by the time she understands the thought process she won't be able to clue him in on it. So she keeps quiet under the guise of being busy with the door, once again substituting a thumb for a hammer. Good enough.

Her eyes finally fall on the small, bloody elephant in the room as she steps in, door swinging shut behind her. ]

Okay. [ A few spare nails and the remaining chunk of couch-board she didn't need are set on a shelf next to the door. ] Now that. I'm really not feeling calling the cops about it.

[ Cops and her circles don't typically get along that well. She rubs a hand through her hair, sighing. ]

...Unless it's one of ours on the force, I guess. A good one.