RYDER

I arrive at Hugo's still fuming and with a thirst to hurt someone.

The place is empty compared to what it was when I got here the other night with the rest of the team. A guy is standing behind the bar, drying a row of beer glasses. He shoots me a disinterested look before saying, "We're closed right now. If you'd like, you can come back later."

"I need to talk to the owner. Or whoever was here last Friday."

"I was," he claims, giving me his full attention. "I was behind the bar the ...