Before, people used to ask me what I did, I could have lied. He stood and looked at Curran.Īn awful thing - this happening to the nightclub circuit. Kwon squatted next to the bag and gave last minute instructions to his assistant. Just be glad you're hearing it from this side of the bag. Means another person's died and I've got the case. The ever-efficient medical examiner's eyes stared at Curran, concern clearly evident. The sound always made him feel so hollow inside, a cobwebbed shell of a man so unlike how he'd been years ago.Ĭurran glanced down. The heavy gauge steel zipper ground its teeth together the body bag closed over the corpse inside.
He heard the low growl - a creeping bassline to the dissonance of voices and other ambient crime scene noises. Where does all the blood go, Curran wondered as he ducked back inside the nightclub. The red cinder died as it touched the water and got swept away into the storm drain. Beat cops corralled drunken clubgoers while thick yellow police tape drew the attention of every news cameraman in town.Ĭurran took a final drag on his cigarette and tossed it into the gutter. Streetlights and multi-colored neon signs cast weird shadows that bounced off of limousines and nightclub fronts. He imagined the water running off the cracked sidewalks could just as easily be the blood of all the victims of every killer he'd ever stalked. The city always looked different after someone had been killed.Īt least, that's what Curran thought as he stood on the rain-slicked street enveloped by a cold mist and cigarette smoke. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to and purchase your own copy.
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