Nixx
The detective sent stills that evening because he wanted to know whether JJ, Benny, or I recognized the man from the arts center.
Recognition would have been generous.
The cameras never gave us a clean face. The baseball cap sat low, sunglasses covered most of what remained, and the gray sweatshirt stripped away every obvious club marker. If I had passed him in a gas station without a reason to look twice, I might have kept walking.
His build bothered me anyway.
Benny and I took the stills into the clubhouse office and pulled up the exterior shop footage from the day Razor stood across from JJ’s new place and looked directly into the camera. That image was better because Razor had wanted us to see him then.
I froze the clearest frame and set it beside the arts-center still. Simi
