O’Malley grabbed Bear’s arm and ushered him out of the room handing Bear his handkerchief. Bear was thirty-two years old and had not cried since he was sixteen. He made a silent vow, after this, I will never cry again.
Bear turned to O’Malley. “You’ll get this bastard?”
“With your cooperation…” O’Malley countered.
“Anything you need,” Bear replied between clenched teeth.
On the ride back to Trenton, the tears coursed down his cheeks as he repeated his mantra, I will never cry again, I will never cry again, I will never…
* * * *
The next morning Bear was on the phone with Reed, co-owner of Indiscreet. “We need to talk.” Bear said, “I identified Antonio’s body last night at the city morgue.”
“How bad?” asked Reed.
“Bad enough that I was about to puke. Someone pummeled his face and then cut it repeatedly with a serrated knife. The bastard shot out both his knees so he couldn’t run and whipped him until the skin was hanging in strips. It took a long time for the kid to die.”