Ben had an odd look on his face when he came back into the kitchen. He stowed his phone and sat down.
“What?” Alex asked, wary, not to mention wasted, after a day of shock piled on weird, then covered with crap.
“They’ll have to run ballistics, of course, but they think the douche bag in the sketch is the shooter. Had the same weapon on him.”
Alex blinked. Did it not make sense because he was tired, or was it just that it didn’t make sense? “They caught him already?”
“Someone did.” Ben paused. “He’s dead.”
That was good news, well, three bodies wasn’t good news for the people who had to process them, but three, dead bad guys was better for the rest of the world. And it wrapped the case up in a neat package. He rubbed his face. He should be happy. He was too tired to be happy. “So Nell
