Alex slept deep and he slept long. He woke feeling like he’d had a few dreams, but he didn’t remember them and wasn’t sorry about it. Nell did her mental dumps by sketching. For Alex, he did his mental dumping in his dreams. This morning, he didn’t want to know what worried him. He checked the time on his cell and amended that to afternoon.
It had been late when they finally cleared the crime scene. He’d been relieved his dad didn’t wait up for him. Would he be that lucky now?
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, rested his forearms on his knees and put his head in his hands. It still ached, along with most of his muscles. He needed to think. He hated to think. He preferred doing, but he didn’t know what to do without thinking. Crap. He’d shower. For some reason, thinking was easi
