As he stepped into the apartment where the smell of blood had yet to dissipate, Bruce's gaze swept over the corridor of bodies with a complex expression.
Not a trace of obsession remained.
“Did it die too soon?” He muttered in his mind, frowning slightly.
Unfortunately, this time they pounced.
CrazyDex, was not at this den.
According to the ladies and the punks who still survived, Dex had evaporated back at the end of last month.
The only person who could possibly know where he went - his brother - is now lying in a cold body bag, dead from Diana's stunning shot.
With the trail cut short, the men have no choice but to take all the johns and girls in the apartment back to the police station, hoping that an interrogation will yield something.
Surprisingly, the clues do surface.
--
