It was hard deciphering a man’s intentions when he was discovered in the trunk of that very same car.

Joe waited until Cheri had entered the unit and was about to open a box, a small flashlight in hand.

“Need some help?” he offered, stepping into view.

Cheri dropped the flashlight. “Fuck!” she yelled at them. “What the hell?”

“That’s my question, Cheri,” Joe told her. “You said you knew nothing about a place like this.”

She rallied quickly. “This isn’t Don’s,” she said. “This is mine.”

“Really?” Willy stepped up to the threshold and asked, “You mind?” He indicated his interest to enter with a gesture.

“No, no,” she said. “I don’t care. It’s just some old junk.”

Joe followed, crossing over to her. He stooped, lifted the box she’d been about to open, and held it up at chest level. “Here you go. Let me help. It’s heavy. This’ll make it easier to get what you were after.”

She looked from him to the box and back again, stuck for an answer. “No, thanks,” she finally said.

“It’s my pleasure, Cheri,” he said, not moving. “Really.”

With painful reluctance, she folded back a flap of the box, while Willy, having retrieved her light, used it to reveal the contents.

All three of them studied a jumbled collection of watches, rings, necklaces, bracelets, a silver ashtray, and a heavy lighter.

“Wow,” Willy said innocently. “Fancy. I thought you said it was junk.”

“It’s not mine,” she said.

“It isn’t?” Joe asked. “That’s not what you just said.”

“I don’t know where it came from.”

“You used a key to get in, Cheri,” Willy reminded her. “How did it get here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” Joe concluded, “if it’s not yours, you think it belonged to Don?”

“Maybe.”

“You think he might’ve stolen it?”

“Could be.”

“Huh,” Joe persisted. “What do you think we should do with it? It’s not yours; it might be stolen. Kind of awkward, right?”

She pushed the box against his chest. “Take it.”

“We can give you a receipt for it.”

She seemed to understand the peril in that. “No,” she said. “No receipt. It’s not mine.”

Willy flashed the light around the unit’s corrugated walls. “What about the rest of it? Does any of it belong to you?”

Cheri took a step backward. “No. It’s all Don’s. I don’t know anything about any of it.”

Joe placed the box on top of a nearby stack and gave her a severe look. “Cheri,” he said sternly, “we all know what just happened here. You can wash your hands of it for the time being, but we got an eye on you. We’ll be talking again. You got that?”

“I can go?” she asked.

“Not far,” Willy told her. “Don’t leave town.”

Joe held out his hand. “And give me the key.”

She quickly released the key from the ring it was attached to and offered it, virtually in the same motion as she turned on her heel and headed back to her car.