I walked right through the opening behind him into the warm air inside and the heavy smell of cheap floor wax.

My sneakers squeaked on the freshly polished linoleum as I walked past the front display of heavy winter coats.

David came around the end of aisle three forty seconds later, his stride long, stiff and angry.

He had the heavy manila envelope jammed under his left elbow, the thick paper creased from how hard he was pressing it to his ribs.

“Why on earth did you tell me to meet you in this dump?” he asked, his voice sinking into the low whisper he used when he wanted me to shrink into the wall.