A light breeze kept me cool, along with shade trees bordering the roadside. At one point an ancient Jack Russell popped out of the bushes to run with me, yapping as we went, but he tired well before I did and left after he’d done his shift as watchdog. Plenty of people ran here; the road was more or less an open secret on the runners underground.

By the time I was only about a city block from Confidence, I slowed, knowing it was time to turn around. I glanced at my fitness tracker to see how many miles I’d gone already. If I wanted to talk to Teo, to find some kind of closure and satisfy myself he was all right, I needed to show up at his front door one day and see if he was willing to have a conversation. Despite that, I didn’t turn around. I kept going, and when I got to the property line I sped up again.

The kennel acreage was divided between rows of concrete block kennels with attached runs, play and training yards, and another low-slung building that probably served as an office. The grounds were still well-tended, and the foundation I’d noticed had grown into an unassuming metal storage unit. What I had failed to notice was a brick ranch sitting at the edge of the property. Teo probably lived there, maybe with a girlfriend or even a wife, although I probably would have heard if he’d married. Some member of the Seabank Sheriff’s Department would have made sure to let me know that Teo was happier without me.

Usually when I ran past Confidence, I saw activity on the grounds behind the high chain link fences where dogs were trained. Today was no different. In the largest of the enclosed yards, I glimpsed a woman with blond hair guiding a dog tethered on a long leash between boxes in a field. They were too far away for me to tell more, but they were both running, and I slowed to see if I could tell what the dog was supposed to do.

I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye, and saw a man coming toward her from across the field. Even now, all these years later, I easily recognized Teo, although the last time I’d seen him, his gait had been much different. Then he’d been recovering from a gunshot and learning to walk with both a brace and pain so fierce that more often than not, he couldn’t put weight on his injured leg.

I wasn’t worried I might be seen. The sun was shining through the trees to my left, and the distance and glare would easily hide my identity. I sped up anyway, making a wide circle and heading back the way I’d come. But not before I saw the woman stop what she was doing, and throw her arms around Teo’s shoulders for a hug.

Back at the town house the doorbell rang as I was drying off after a long shower. By the time I dressed and went downstairs to answer it, no one was there, but a package the size of a paperback novel had been shoved nearly out of sight under the tall podocarpus trees beside the front door.