It's 3 in the morning, fourteen hours since Fernandez took Madison. I can't sleep, but I can probably drum up the energy to knock Alex on his ass. He's silently pacing the living room while I stare at my phone. Dax and his crew are on the streets hitting bars to test the wind and see if any information is floating around about someone wanting girls and those girls never returning. I should have thought of searching the prostitute route for Fernandez before Madison went missing. I snap ...