Sheryl, Watson, and Marlowe chased Brett Summers into an alleyway. At the sight of the oncoming dead end, Brett took out his gun and turned around. Seeing this, Marlowe pushed Sheryl behind the cover of the left wall and Watson dove behind the right wall, just as Brett Summers fired a shot.
Marlowe and Watson took out their own guns and started firing back at Brett Summers, who dove behind a dumpster for cover. It was in the middle of this gunfight that Sheryl started tugging on Marlowe's jacket to get his attention.
“What is it, Holmes? I'm trying to protect us here.”
Marlowe paused for a second at the strange request. “What?”
“I want to try talking to him.” With that, Sheryl pulled Marlowe back and started walking out into the open to talk to Brett, “Mr. Summers, I-”
Marlowe quickly pulled Sheryl back into cover just as a bullet from Brett's gun narrowly missed her.
“Okay, listen Holmes!” Marlowe's face could barely contain the mix of anger and worry that he was feeling at that moment. “If you want to talk to him, at least do it from behind cover, okay? I'll stop firing.”
“Thank you, Marlowe.”
“Watson!” Marlowe yelled at the police detective to try to get his attention.
“What?!” Watson yelled back as he fired off another shot.
“Stop firing, Sheryl wants to talk to the guy!”
Upon hearing this, there was a puzzled expression on Watson's face, but being used to Sheryl's plans, he stopped firing.
Behind the safety of the dumpster, Brett also stopped firing, confused about why nobody was shooting at him anymore.
Sheryl, behind the safety of cover this time, yelled, “Brett? Listen to me, my name is Sheryl Holmes, but you can call me Holmes.”
From behind the dumpster, Brett yelled back, “What do you want, Sheryl?”
Sheryl sighed at yet another person refusing to call her by her surname. She recomposed herself and yelled across the alleyway again, “Look, Brett, we're sorry that my friend overreacted, but we want to help you.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
“I know you still love you wife, Brett. You're still wearing your wedding ring, that's proof of that,” yelled Sheryl. “I don't know how your wife got killed, but if you tell us the truth, I'm sure that we can help you.”
Marlowe joined in, yelling, “She's right, Brett. Virginia was my client. It's my duty now to find out what happened to her. Let us help you.”
There was a pause as Brett considered their words.
Finally, he stood up and walked out into the open with his hands up, “Alright, I'll tell you the truth.”