She stared at the articles, her pulse quickening. What did it mean? It seemed like he owned the car. Or could it be that someone else had hidden his belongings inside? Her mind spun with possibilities—both dark and mundane. The mystery felt tangible, like dust on her fingers, impossible to ignore.
She dug deeper, clicking through archive links, then drove out to the local library when the free internet clippings ran out. The librarian, Mrs. Hanley, raised an eyebrow when Margaret asked about newspaper records from 1985.