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Sheila glanced at Finn, her investigative instincts heightened by the sense of urgency surrounding Juliette Reed's murder. They were outside a large supermarket, the morning sun casting long shadows on the asphalt. The parking lot was already bustling with activity, shopping carts clattering against each other and people loading bags into their cars.
Finn had a brand-new t-shirt draped over his shoulder, still on the hanger. He had convinced the clerk to let him keep the hanger by sticking a few dollars in the tip jar, though Sheila wasn't sure why. When she'd ask him, he'd simply winked at her.
"You know, I've been working here for twenty years," Bess continued, her voice tinged with weariness. "I was supposed to clock out last night, but they needed me to stay late and help with inventory. It's always something."
Sheila nodded, pretending to be engrossed in Bess's story. In reality, her attention was fixed on the vehicle that loomed before them. Could this be the killer's car, the one George Chapman had seen down the street from Juliette Reed's house? Had the killer abandoned it here in favor of another ride?
After putting out an APB with the description of the vehicle, one of the supermarket employees had alerted them to this vehicle. It was definitely a Toyota Camry. But was it the right Camry?
"Inventory is such a headache," Bess continued, oblivious to Sheila's distraction. "Every time I think I'm done, I find another box of canned peas or something."
They finally reached the vehicle, and Sheila felt her heart rate increase. The car had tinted windows, giving it an ominous appearance. She exchanged a quick glance with Finn, who seemed equally intrigued.
"Alright, let's take a look," Finn said, directing his words to both Sheila and Bess. As they began to circle the vehicle, searching for any signs that might link it to Juliette's murder, Sheila's mind raced with possibilities.
"Ugh, hold on," Bess grumbled, pulling out her phone as it began to ring. "Hello? Yes, this is Bess." She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "Can't you handle anything without me?" she muttered into the receiver before hanging up. "I swear, this place would fall apart if I weren't around."
"Thanks for your help, Bess," Sheila said, forcing a smile. "We appreciate it."
"Sure thing," Bess replied, already turning away to head back to the store. "Good luck with whatever you're doing."
As the woman walked away, it occurred to Sheila that Bess had never really asked what they wanted with the vehicle. She'd been too caught up in telling them about her own problems to question them about theirs.
Finn wasted no time after Bess left, his calloused fingers quickly testing the car door handles. "Locked," he muttered, confirming Sheila's suspicions.
"Okay, so what do we do now?" she asked, her eyes scanning the parking lot for any sign of trouble. She felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders, knowing that every moment counted in their pursuit of the killer.
"Watch and learn," Finn replied with a half-smile. Setting aside the t-shirt he'd bought, he began untwisting the hanger.
"So that's why you bought it," Sheila said.
When Finn had finished untwisting the coat hanger, he slid one end between the window and the door frame, angling it just right to catch the lock mechanism.
"Is that legal?" Sheila asked.
"Considering the vehicle appears to be abandoned, I'd say it's within our rights as law enforcement," Finn said, frowning as he concentrated. "Besides, who's going to complain?"
Sheila said nothing. She watched, curious if his method would work. A few moments later, there was a click and the lock popped up.
Gently, Finn opened the car door. Sheila held her breath, tense with anticipation, wondering what they might find inside. The tinted windows had obscured their view, but now everything was about to be revealed.
"Hey!" a voice cried out, startling both Sheila and Finn. A woman sat up in the back seat, rubbing her eyes as if she had just woken from a deep sleep. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties, with disheveled dark hair framing a slightly sunken face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a weary look about her that spoke of countless sleepless nights.
Sheila's heart raced, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Was this woman involved? A witness? Or just an innocent bystander caught up in their investigation?
"Who are you?" she asked, her pulse quickening as she eyed the woman warily.
"Excuse me?" the woman retorted, clearly offended by their intrusion. "You break into my car and then have the audacity to demand who I am?"
"We didn't realize anyone was in here," Finn said, looking a bit sheepish.
"Yeah, then maybe next time you should knock on the window. Ever thought of that?"
"Ma'am," Sheila said patiently, "would you mind explaining what you were doing in here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" The woman glared at them for a few more seconds before sighing. "I'm just trying to catch up on some sleep, okay? I use this car for Uber at night, and I didn't want to go home because my husband and I have been having problems."
Sheila's instincts told her to tread carefully, but she couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that they were finally onto something crucial. Finn, on the other hand, had switched into full professional mode, his focus sharp as a blade.
