As it turned out, it would have been hard to miss. It was the only thing along that wooded stretch of highway. It was a two-story white building set about fifty feet back from the road, a full set of self-serve gas pumps out front. I hit the blinker, came slowly off the main road, tires crunching on some loose gravel.

“So this is it,” Jan said. “We just wait?”

I looked at the dashboard clock. Five minutes before five. “I guess.” There were some parking spots off to one side, an old Plymouth Volare in one of them. I swung the car around in front of them, backed in alongside the Volare so I’d have a good view of the highway in both directions, then powered down the windows and turned off the engine.

There wasn’t a lot of traffic. We’d be able to spot an approaching white pickup long before it turned in to the lot.

“What do you think this source is going to have for you?” Jan asked.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Private memos? Printouts of emails? Recorded phone calls? Maybe nothing. Maybe there’re just things she wants to tell me. But it’ll be a lot better if she has some actual proof. The Standard’s not going to run a word if I haven’t got this thing cold.”

Jan rubbed her forehead.

“You okay?”

“Just getting a headache. I’ve had one most of the way up. I feel like I could nod right off, to tell you the truth.”

“You got some aspirin or Tylenol or something?”

“Yeah, in my purse. I’m going to go in, get a bottle of water or something else to drink. You want anything?”

“An iced tea?” I said.

Jan nodded, got out of the car, and went into the store. I kept my eyes on the road. A red Ford pickup drove past. Then a green Dodge SUV. A motorcyclist.

My dashboard clock read 5 p.m. on the dot. So she had ten minutes from now to show up.

Whoever she was.

A truck loaded with logs rumbled past. A blue Corvette convertible, top down, went screaming by, heading for Lake George.

Then, coming from the north, a pickup truck.

It was a couple of hundred yards away, pale in color. The way the afternoon sun was filtering through the trees, I wasn’t sure whether it was white, pale yellow, or maybe silver.

But as the truck approached, I could see that it was a Ford, and that it was white.

The truck’s turn signal went on. It waited for a Toyota Corolla coming from the south to get past, then turned into the lot. The truck rolled up to the self-serve pumps.

My heart was pounding.

The driver’s door opened, and a man in his sixties stepped out. Tall, thin, unshaven, in a plaid work shirt and jeans. He slipped his credit card into the pump and started filling up.

He never once looked in my direction.

“Shit,” I said.

I looked back out to the highway, just in time to see a blue Buick sedan drive by.

“Hello,” I said under my breath.

The car was driving under the speed limit. Slow enough to take in what was going on at Ted’s Lakeview General Store, but fast enough not to look like he was going to stop.

The thing was, I didn’t know that it was a “he.” The windows were well tinted. It might have been more than one “he.” It might have been a “she.”

The car kept heading north and eventually disappeared.

It was 5:05 p.m.

Jan came out of the store, a Snapple iced tea in one hand, a bottle of water in the other. She was talking even before she opened the passenger door.

“I’m in there and I’m thinking, what if he sees his contact and ends up driving away, leaving me here?”

“There’s been no sign,” I said. The white pickup at the pump had left before Jan returned. “But there was one interesting thing.”

“Yeah?” she said, handing me my iced tea and cracking the plastic cap on the water.

“I saw what I think was our blue Buick driving by.”

Jan said, “You’re shittin’ me.”

“No. It was headed north and kept on going.”

“Do you know for sure it was the same car?”

I shook my head. “But there was something about it as it drove past. Like whoever was inside was scanning this place.”

Jan found some Tylenols and popped them into her mouth, then chased them down with the water. She looked at the clock. “Four minutes left,” she said. “Is that clock right?”

I nodded. “But her clock might not be, so I’ll hang in a few minutes extra. There’s still time for her to show up.”

I drank nearly half the iced tea in one gulp. I hadn’t realized, until the cold liquid hit my tongue, just how parched I was. We sat for another five minutes, saying nothing, listening to the cars go by.

“There’s a pickup,” Jan said. But it was gray, and it did not turn in.

“From the north,” I said, and Jan looked.

It was the blue Buick. Maybe two hundred yards away.

I opened my door.

“What are you doing?” Jan asked. “Get back in here.”

But I was already heading across the parking lot. I wanted a better look at this car. I wanted a look at the license plate. I reached into my pocket and took out my digital recorder. I didn’t have to write down the plate number. I could dictate it.

“David!” Jan called out. “Don’t do it!”

I ran to the shoulder, recorder in hand. I turned it on. The Buick was a hundred yards away, and I could hear the driver giving more gas to the engine.

“Come on, you fucker,” I said as the car closed the distance.

It was close enough now to read the plate. I’d forgotten it was plastered with dried mud. As the car zoomed past the general store, I waited to get a look at the back bumper, but that plate was muddied up as well-save for the last two numbers, 7 and 5, which I spoke breathlessly into my recorder. The car moved off at high speed and disappeared around the next bend.

I clicked off the recorder, put it in my pocket, and trudged back to the car.

“What were you thinking?” Jan asked.

“I wanted to get the plate,” I said. “But it was covered up.”

I got back into the car, shook my head. “Fuck,” I said. “It was the same car, I’m sure of it. Someone knows. Someone found out about this meeting.”

Which was why I wasn’t surprised when, by 5:20 p.m., no woman in a white pickup had showed up at Ted’s Lakeview General Store to give me the goods on Reeves and the rest of the Promise Falls councilors.

“It’s not going to happen,” I said.

“I’m sorry,” Jan said. “I know how important this was to you. Do you want to hang in for a while longer?”

I gave it five more minutes, then turned the key.

On the way home, Jan’s headache didn’t get any better. She angled her seat back and slept most of the way. When we were almost to Promise Falls, she woke up long enough to say she didn’t feel well and asked if I could drop her at home before I went to get Ethan.

By the time I got back with our son, Jan was in bed, asleep. I tucked him in myself.

“Is Mommy sick?” he asked.

“She’s tired,” I said.

“Is she going to be okay for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” I said.

“We’re going to the roller coasters,” he said. “Did you forget?”

“Yeah, I guess I did for a minute there,” I said, feeling pretty tired myself.

“Do I have to go on the big ones? They scare me.”

“No,” I said. “Just the fun rides, not the scary ones.” I put my lips to his forehead. “We want it to be a good day.”

I kissed him good night and went down the hall to our bedroom. I thought about asking Jan whether a trip to Five Mountains was really a good idea, but she was asleep. I undressed noiselessly, hit the light, and got under the covers.

I slid my hand down between the sheets until I found Jan’s. I linked my fingers into hers, and even in sleep, instinctively, she returned the grip.

I felt comforted by the warmth of it. I didn’t want to let go.

“I love you,” I whispered as I slept next to my wife for the last time.