Kristy Gabres looked at her father's photograph on the shelf. "You always said trouble finds the curious," she whispered. Then she grabbed her jacket, her old Nikon, and a lockpicking kit she hadn't touched since the Herald fired her.
A folder slid under her apartment door. No footsteps, no shadow. Just the soft whisper of paper on wood. Kristy Gabres -Part 1-
Beneath that, an address. A warehouse in the industrial district. And a time: midnight tomorrow. Kristy Gabres looked at her father's photograph on the shelf