“If you want that meeting to happen,” I said, “you will be at the pier.”

I hung up before he could reply.

I watched the dark waters of the Potomac River come into view as the car turned onto the parkway.

The stage was set.

I just had to see how far Nathan would go to protect his secret.

The car pulled up to the curb near the dark marina.

The masts of the docked sailboats creaked in the wind.

I told my driver to wait.

I stepped out into the cold drizzle, pulling my coat tight around my neck.

The wooden planks of the pier were slick beneath my boots.

At the end of the dock, a figure stood under the yellow glow of a single sodium lamp.

Nathan was wearing his civilian leather jacket, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

He turned as I approached, his face shadowed, but his posture rigid.

“Evelyn,” he said, stepping forward. “What is this about?”

I stopped a few feet from him, the physical folder held tightly in my gloved hand.