As I crossed the footbridge, I saw a silhouette up ahead. Just standing there, facing the path, arms folded. He wore a coat the color of wet cement, a wide-brimmed hat pulled low. He was older, I thought, but it was hard to tell. Something about the way he held himself still made my skin crawl.
I sped up and glanced around. There was no one else in sight.
My hand slipped into the pocket of my sweatshirt, closed around the stubby cylinder of pepper spray as I neared the man.
Twenty feet away, and still he didn't move. My nerves screamed. I forced myself forward, trying to look bored, like a jogger who'd done this loop a thousand times.
When I was about to pass him, he spoke. "Miss Holt?"
I flinched. My sneakers squealed on the pavement. I turned.
He was right there. Closer than I thought.
"Don't panic," he said in a low, even voice. "I'm not here to hurt you."
It didn't help. My grip on the spray tightened.
"You contacted the Bureau. We're here to follow up."
My mouth went dry. "Here?"
He shrugged. "Where else? It's neutral ground. Public, but not too public."
He sounded like someone in his forties or fifties. It was hard to tell. I couldn't see his face because of shadows from the hat and the dusk.
"Are you ready to speak?" he asked.
I hesitated, then nodded. This was scarier now that it was real.
"Walk with me," he said, and spun.
We walked side by side for a minute. My heart was in my throat, but I kept pace. His stride was measured, deliberate.
We reached a bench by the water. He gestured for me to sit. I did. He sat at the opposite end, as if we were strangers.
He pulled out a paperback, held it in one hand, and pretended to read. His eyes never left the lake. "You understand this conversation is confidential?" he said.
"Yes."
"You can't discuss this with any of your friends."
"I don't really have any?—"
"Brynn Satcher."
My pulse stalled. "I got it," I choked out. "Not discussing this with anyone, including my reflection in the mirror."
"You understand there is a price?"
"Yes."
His tone softened, but only just. "A steep price."
"I have money," I said. My voice sounded far away.
"Who are you looking to…discipline?"
I stared at the water. My lungs caved in. "The men who ruined my life."
