Chapter 23A clerk at Vesper was more helpful than Lumbergh and Holman could have hoped for. The thoroughly pierced teen, with black and teal bangs dangling just above his eyes, not only remembered selling the Halloween costumes to a man who was “in a big hurry,” but also recognized the individual as a regular customer.
“Yeah, he buys s**t here all the time,” said the clerk. His badge read “Brad.” “Lots of diet soda. He likes Cool Ranch Doritos too.”
Amidst wide shelves of lottery tickets, cigarettes, and chewing tobacco, Brad described the man as being in his late thirties with dark hair and a bit of a gut. He always paid in cash, so digging through the rolls for credit card information would be a waste of time. But according to another employee on duty—a pudgy twenty-something with a cr
