As Dean holds the door for me to enter a small craft store, the owner looks me up and down. I repress a shudder as I show the old drunk my badge.
"Agent Marcia Smith, FBI. My partners, Agents Harrison and Fitzgerald. We're investigating three deaths that occurred here over the last eight months." I inform the still obviously enamored shop owner. "
Ah. And tell me, Miss Smith, who were the victims?" he says, leering at me. Dean (who I introduced as Agent Harrison) steps almost imperceptibly closer to me, also protectively shifting his weight to his left, closer to me.
"Amelia Ingram and Elizabeth Meriott. The third victim's identity can't be revealed due to the case being as yet unsolved." I state officiously.
"Did you know these women?" Dean asks.
"Why, yes, I did, Agent Harrison. They were frequent customers. You know girls...they love their little trinkets," the owner replies.
I briefly sweep my gaze around the room and notice the feminine quality of the jewelry. Bracelets, earrings, necklaces...but one corner has a darker, more gothic feel.
"Sir, what kind if jewelry did they buy?" Sam asks.
"Well, Agent Fitzgerald, they liked the brighter jewelry...you know, the neon colors like pink and yellow and blue. But, if I remember right, a few weeks before her suicide - poor thing - Amelia bought a darker bracelet, with one charm. The charm was somethin' she asked for, a little girl, to honor her little sister. The sister had been, uh, well, stillborn, I think's the word for it. The baby's feet had been mussed up too, I remember her tellin' me about that. She asked for the charm to have no feet too. But, uh, y'all probably don't care about that. 'Lizabeth always liked the bright stuff, especially yellows and oranges," he concludes.
"Thank you, Mr. ..." I say, waiting for him to supply his name.
"Mr. Kelly. Greg Kelly. You're welcome, Agents," he says, throwing a yellowed smile at me.
