She'd been about to satiate her curiosity, one hand setting down the bike helmet and poised to pull the head off of the jar, when the woman's voice eked out a request that was barely intelligible; still, she jumped a little, not expecting the question. Charlie turned on one booted heel and spared a glance for her - her brightly colored hair would make most think that she was a little more confident than her speech let on.
"The hell do you need a picture of the insides of the jar for?" Her face showed her obvious disgust at the idea, lips nearly sneering. The hand about to open the jar moved away, as though a physical denial of the woman's request. That didn't fit in with Charlie's original idea of what the woman was doing with photographs, but instead opened up a new unneeded menagerie of what they could be for and she wasn't about to give voice to any of them.