I follow her to a large rock structure near the pond, where she instructs me to “look nonchalant” as she hikes up a narrow path to the top. Below, benches wrap the paved trail, and a family of three casts fishing line into the green pond.

As I move beside her, I set my pack down. She again takes out her camera, using the lens to zoom in on Ericson and the man, who are having a conversation near the bank of the pond. “He’s not just a cheater,” Blakely says.

I stay quiet, waiting for her to elaborate.

“He’s a deviant,” she says. “Gets his rocks off by beating and strangling prostitutes, though he hasn’t killed anyone. That I know of.”

I blow out a breath. “That seems to warrant a place at the top of your list.”

Her mouth presses into a tight line. “I don’t take jobs based on how deserving a target is of revenge. Although, if I did, yes. He’d be near the top.”

“Then, how do you select your victims?”

“I have a checklist,” she says matter-of-factly. “My original scheme for Ericson involved getting access to his company computer. But now…” She trails off, her gaze roving after Ericson as he heads toward the park exit. “Maybe there’s a better way to deliver Mrs. Daverns’ revenge.” She looks at me. “Did you get what you needed?”

I check the app and nod, satisfied.

“Good,” she says.

Our spying complete, I lean back and brace my palms against the rock, gaze cast out over the murky pond. “A better way to deliver Mrs. Daverns’ revenge such as…?”

“Such as—” She nods with her camera pointed toward the mountain of buildings looming over the park. “See The Plaza right there? Ericson’s eccentric and paranoid client resides in the penthouse. His name is Brewster. That’s where their nefarious negotiations and other degenerate happenings take place.”

I nod slowly as I take in the building. I don’t know much about New York architecture, but you don’t have to be a native to know The Plaza’s ritzy and historic reputation. “Why not just rent a room to get access?” I question.

“Sure,” Blakely says, then she turns her gaze on me. “You got thirty grand to throw away?”

My eyes widen. “I see your point.” I think for a moment. “I could get you into Ericson’s company network. I know how corporate closed networks operate, and even better if it’s a Linux system.”

She licks her lips, considering this. I’ve noticed she does this particular action when she’s weighing what she wants—a predatory response, a sexual reflex aimed to distract. I wonder if she realizes this, or if it’s a subconscious tactic.

“That would only lead to his financial ruin.” She leans back to join me against the rock.