Page 58 of Damaged

“Really?”

“One day only.”

“Wait a minute. Is this like having a free pizza party for employees instead of giving them raises?”

“What?”

“Like so I don’t sue for emotional damages, you take me to see the Sphinx?”

“It’s better than the Sphinx. Totally worth a seven-figure settlement. Besides, you can still sue if you’d like.”

“Okay. Give me a half hour.”

“There’s a breakfast bar in the kitchen,” I say and make to leave. “And by the way. The Egyptian police made an arrest last night. I confirmed it’s the same man we saw at the bar.”

“Oh. That’s great. Do I have to… testify?” She suddenly looks nervous.

“No. Nothing like that. The justice system is different here. It’s taken care of.”

“Great.” Sophia nods. But I can tell she hadn’t remembered the incident with the Russian immediately upon waking and now it is all flooding back. I’m not being cute—it’s my job to make this right.

In an hour, the two of us are in the Rolls Royce and driving south. We’ve already passed the Pyramids. We’ll hit those on the way back.

Sophia is looking out the window. She’s got her bubbly mood back, but as we exit the city, a mixture of concern and amusement draws her brow tight. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“You’ll find out in fifteen minutes.”

I can tell she’s debating pressing me more but decides against it. Soon we’re walking with the morning sun on our backs down the same abandoned bridge as I did last night. Sophia’s eyes are ahead on the water. “Are we doing what I think we are?” She looks at me and walks closer to the railing.

“Not so close.”

I pull her gently back by the elbow. There’s a splash in the distance, and then we both stop and stare. There they are, about a dozen of them, some with their backs still wet from the water, sunning themselves on the sandbank.

“Oh my God.”

“I figured you deserved your crocodiles.”

Sophia’s mouth is agape. “They’re enormous.”

While I don’t say anything, I do admit she was right to want to do something like this over going to a museum. They’re otherworldly. Fifteen hundred pounds of muscle, scales, and teeth.

“How’d you find this place?” Sophia asks.

The question doesn’t faze me. “I asked around where the best place to see the crocodiles was.”

She marvels for a while, walking up and down the bridge to get better views. I stay as close as I can. Even though I spent the morning reading that crocodiles are ambush predators that wait for prey in the water and rarely pursue people on land, I’m still not letting my guard down.

“Wait, what’s that?” Sophia asks and points.

My heart stops. It’s obvious what it is. Lying washed up on the sandbank next to a monstrous crocodile is a camouflage Gucci loafer. Its distinct golden clasp glints in the sun.

Shit. Was the Russian wearing those shoes the first night in the hotel? Even if he wasn’t, it feels obvious what happened here. How I found this place.

“That’s strange,” Sophia says, staring at the shoe.

I cringe and close my eyes. I don’t think she’ll be flattered that I fed her assailant to crocodiles. She’ll run.

“I would’ve guessed they preferred Crocs.”

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