In the past two weeks, he’d been dropping into downtown Denver’s tattoo shops in search of the woman. No leads so far. He was told the tattoo he was looking for was a custom design, not part of the usual flash art selection. “I’m looking for a woman who got a tattoo that looks exactly like this,” he told the man as he pulled out a piece of paper depicting a hand drawn version of the tattoo. He fought the angst tearing through his veins, hoping this wouldn’t be another dead end. The man took a good look at it and nodded. “Yes…I did this piece for a female client last year. What exactly do you need to know?” Dex’s pulse jumped. It had to be her—the tattoo was unusual. But this was where it got tricky. Since this wasn’t an official investigation, he didn’t have a warrant for this establishment, and he needed the man’s cooperation. Of course, he could probably get one, but that would require him to pull some major strings, which would take time. He chose his next words carefully.
