Crouching down was out of the question with his shoulder but Oliver had better than perfect eyesight. Even from six feet up he could see the items clearly: lip gloss, powder, a couple of bobby-pins. Everyday items which usually represented his wife's happy presence in their home now alerted him to her inappropriate absence from the store.
'Something's very, very wrong...' Oliver's eyes expanded their search of the area and came up with a few loose coins and Verity's tartan scarf scrunched by a foot of the desk. 'We need to get George down here. He's at Harry's.' Oliver's tone was very hollow, matter-of-fact, and completely vacant of the emotions turning his insides out.