AllFreeNovel
Share Us
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sheila drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as she pulled into the parking lot of Spotlight Costumes.
I hope this isn't just a grand waste of time,she thought.
The realization that the killer might be using disguises had hit her like a lightning bolt. If she was right, it explained the discrepancies in witness descriptions and potentially widened their suspect pool significantly.
"You sure anyone's even here?" Finn asked from the passenger seat, stifling a yawn. "It's almost nine-thirty." They'd both been running on coffee and determination for the better part of the past forty-eight hours.
Sheila shrugged. "There's a light on."
"Doesn't mean they're open. A place like this probably closes at five or six."
"Well, they'll just have to make an exception for us. If our guy is using disguises, he has to get his supplies somewhere. Spotlight is the only professional costume shop in Coldwater. I'm not leaving without answers."
Finn chuckled softly.
"What?" Sheila asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You. Determined as always. Just don't give yourself an aneurysm, alright?"
Sheila rolled her eyes and got out of the vehicle.
As they approached the store's entrance, Sheila took in the colorful window display featuring everything from superhero costumes to Victorian-era gowns. The cheerful facade felt strangely at odds with their grim purpose.
Sheila tried the door—locked. A 'Closed' sign hung on the door.
"Well, that's a problem," Finn said dryly.
Sheila leaned closer, peering through the glass. Just then, she noticed a petite woman with graying hair in a bun striding by. Sheila rapped on the glass, and the woman jumped at the sound.
"I'm sorry, we're closed for the day!" the woman said.
Sheila held up her badge. "Deputy Stone, ma'am. This is Deputy Mercer. We need to speak with you."
The woman frowned, shaking her head. "I'm afraid I can't help you at this hour. Please come back during our regular business hours."
Finn leaned in, his voice low. "Maybe we should come back tomorrow, Sheila."
Sheila felt her frustration building. They needed this lead. "We're investigating a series of serious crimes. Your cooperation could be crucial."
The woman's resolve seemed to waver slightly, but she stood her ground. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."
But Sheila wasn't ready to give up. "Ma'am, are you Sarah Jenkins, the owner?"
The woman nodded reluctantly.
"Mrs. Jenkins, I wouldn't be here this late if it wasn't absolutely necessary. Lives could be at stake. Please, just a few minutes of your time."
Sarah studied them for a long moment, conflict clear on her face. Finally, she sighed heavily. "Five minutes. Not a second more."
As Sarah unlocked the door, Sheila felt a mix of relief and anticipation. They were in, but the clock was ticking. They needed to make these five minutes count.
As they entered, Sheila was immediately struck by the organized chaos of the interior. Racks of costumes lined the walls, while shelves overflowed with wigs, masks, and makeup kits. The air smelled faintly of fabric and face paint.
"We can talk in my office," Sarah said, leading them to a small room in the back of the store. As they settled into chairs, Sheila noticed the walls were covered in photographs of elaborate costumes and stage makeup. It was clear Sarah took pride in her work.
"Mrs. Jenkins," Sheila began, "we're investigating a series of crimes that may involve the use of disguises. Have you had any customers recently who've made unusual or large purchases of prosthetics, wigs, or professional-grade makeup?"
