194
At goddamn last.
Party City in Irvine, Deputy Berlinger talks to a stoner clerk who remembers selling a Letterman and a Leno mask.
“You remember the guy?”
“Sort of.”
Sort of.
Fucking blazers.
“Can you describe him for me?”
Amazingly, the kid can.
Tall white guy. Brown eyes, brown hair, didn’t say much.
Paid cash.
Something, anyway, Berlinger thinks.
To get Alex off my aching ass.