The other man’s answer was low and muffled. Cam wondered if either man knew Vince; suicides were always grim but even worse when they involved a fellow officer. He sat down and leaned his head against the brick wall, allowing the cool mist from the neighbour’s sprinkler to waft against his skin.After a few moments he stood up and rejoined the SOCO team. He pointed out Vince’s car, and they dusted it for prints inside and out with no luck; visually, all the prints looked the same. They would be run through the database, but Cam could predict that their owner would be Vince.The SOCO boys moved into the house and Cam held back, still looking at the car. The position of the driver’s seat was bothering him. He opened up the driver’s side door and sat in the seat, placing his hands upon the wheel, his eyes away from the dangling Elvis. He had to stretch his feet right out to reach the pedals, only then feeling them through the toe of his boots. Vince and he were about the same height.
