'It's her.'
The absolute shock of confirming the impossible made him dizzy. It was Kaya. She wasn't dead. She was standing right there, commanding a private army.
Aris lowered the camera, his hands shaking. He had the proof. He just needed to get back to his car, encrypt the files, and call the FBI.
He turned around to climb down the ladder of the crane.
He slammed face-first into what felt like a solid wall of warm, heavily muscled concrete.
Aris stumbled backward, gasping for breath. He looked up.
Standing on the narrow catwalk, completely blocking his exit, was a man the size of a grizzly bear. Cutie was wearing a heavy trench coat, his massive shoulders practically brushing the metal railings on either side. He didn't say a word. He just stared down at the detective with wide, unblinking eyes, reaching out a massive hand to casually crush the steel railing of the catwalk like it was made of tin foil.
