Foley stared at the name painted on the shop window: Manley and Munion Lock and Key. God how she wished she could scrape off Allison Manley's name. But the way business was going, the point could be moot by the end of the month. Allison had made of mess of Foley's life, but her death still brought in a number of lookie-loos who turned into customers.
Inside, the small lobby felt colder than the parking lot. Foley shivered and nudged up the thermostat. Metal shavings from the key grinder dotted the floor. Sweeping the place could wait. She lifted the walk-through section of the counter and entered the workshop.
Something felt wrong.
Her work area looked find. The bins of wire and alarm system components sat undisturbed. Nothing was out of place. She hurried to the safe, crouched and spun the dial. The lock clicked. She yanked the handle and pawed through the contents.