“So?” Craig said when Kevan came up to the counter at the bookstore.
“You’re closing,” Kevan replied. It was a logical conclusion, since it was six, and Nicola was turning the sign on the front door. “Why don’t you finish up, and then we can grab some coffee while I tell you?”
“Meaning it wasn’t him,” Craig replied, dejected, but not really very surprised. That would have been too easy. “Sure, coffee’s good.”
Twenty minutes later, they were seated in the coffee shop next door to the bookstore.
“Okay, lay it on me,” Craig said.
“The card was used by a man the guy at the counter thought was probably homeless.”
“Meaning Scott did dump his wallet somewhere.”
“I’d say so. I have a sort of description of the man who used it, including the fact he has a tattoo. If I can find him, which is
