Frank slid the manila folder down the table.
“These are the photos we have of him.”
Josh opened it and flipped through them. More than a dozen blurry black and white stills from what looked like a security camera, from a high angle, of a pretty average looking man in his mid-twenties, light hair, medium build. Completely average. Doing nothing suspicious, walking with only a paper cup in his hand, the logo an undefined blob of pixels.
“So you think he’s the one?”
“We’re sure.”
“How sure?”
Frank grimaced. “We have a source. And no, you can’t talk to him, he’s too important for anyone to talk to. Hell, we haven’t talked to him. We went through a screen.”
“And how exactly am I supposed to find this guy? Hell, I can barely see the guy’s face.”
Frank’s face staying in the grimace. “I’d start at the scene of the crime, if I were you. Ask around. Just find him, Josh, we don’t have any other options.”
With that, Frank turned and left, leaving Josh staring down at the photo of an average man.