“I think they walked.” Nina pointed. “Like across 914.”

“From the liquor store?” Remy motioned.

“That or Tandy’s,” she said. “I couldn’t tell ya.”

“Which guy bought the shirts?” Remy asked.

This was a test, since we knew the sizes in the car were XXLs. Too big for Vinorama.

The woman took my phone. “That one.” She pointed at Dilmendes, verifying our hunch and handing my cell back. “But his friend was interested too. Everything was just too big for him.”

I cocked my head, confused. We’d seen Juan Vinorama’s body in the car this morning. The medium tee I was holding would fit him just fine. If not that, a men’s large.

“What do you mean, ‘too big’?” I asked, flicking the photo back to Vinorama and looking at it myself.

“No, not him,” she said. “The other guy.”

I flicked to Dilmendes, and she shook her head.

“No, the third guy. The little one,” she said. “You don’t got a picture of him?”

Remy and I moved a bit closer to the woman. A third man with these two very well might be our killer.

“What did the third guy look like?” Remy asked.

“Like them.” The woman shrugged.

I flicked my eyebrows at her, and she put a palm out, wanting to correct herself. “Mexican, I mean. But little.”

“Ya got more than just the word ‘little’?” Remy asked.

“Well,” she said. “We don’t have kids’ sizes, and he kept asking for shirts. I told him he should go lookin’ at Walmart. The teens section. He looked pissed off and left. Had a smoke.”

“You said it was before closing?” Remy asked.

“Uh-huh.”

Remy was typing notes in her iPad. “Do you remember how close to closing? Like what time?”

“Well, we shut down on Tuesdays at ten p.m.,” the girl said. “Let’s call it nine forty-five.”

I looked around the store. Out the crowded front windows and across at Tandy’s. If these guys were drug mules, what the hell were they doing hanging in this area for days? I thought of what else was out here, far from the city. At ten o’clock, the bar would be open. The package store. Not much else.

“You got security cams in here?” my partner inquired.

The woman smiled for the first time. “Not even fake ones, sugar,” she said to Remy. “We rely on the kindness of folks—and the security of the good old Mason Falls PD.”

We both grinned at that.

“And well you should,” Remy said. The official response.

“We got people who can draw a picture for you, Nina,” I said. “You describe the eyes or nose and they can—”

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” she said. “All I remember was he was Mexican and his size. Like four foot ten or so. Four-eleven tops.”

“Hair color?” Remy said. “Eye color?”

“I’d guess dark and dark.”

“How did the big guy pay for the shirts?” I asked.

“Cash.”

Remy and I peppered her with more questions. Did she see any car the men might’ve hung around in the parking lot? No. Did she overhear any of their conversation? No.