Moss had been leaning down with his hands on the Explorer’s door. Now he pushed off and stood upright, backing off a pace. “It’s time for you to leave,” he said. “I can’t help you, and I’m not going to be talked to like this.”

He turned away without waiting for a reply, and set off back toward his vehicle.

Danica cursed under her breath and shoved open the door on her side. Dryden did the same, leaving the pistol where it lay on the driver’s seat. By the time he’d stepped around his own open door, he could see Danica already running to catch up to Moss. The man stopped and turned to face her.

Far beyond the two of them, the guys in the sedan got out again, but for the moment they made no move to get involved.

“Listen, we came a long way to see you,” Danica said. “The least you can do—”

“It’s not my problem where you came from.”

Dryden caught up to where they stood. He stopped three feet from Moss, forming the third corner of a triangle.

Danica had a look on her face Dryden hadn’t seen there yet. Her eyes were intense and her cheeks were a little flushed. She was pissed off. Like all expressions, he liked how it looked on her.

Facing Moss, Danica said, “Let’s talk about where you came from. Let’s talk about the gutter you were crawling around in before my dad pulled you out of it. You’d be dead by now if it weren’t for him.”

“Yes,” Moss said. “So what?”

“So you owe him. But he’s gone now, so you owe me instead.”

Moss actually laughed: a low, sharp breath that conveyed what he thought of that logic.

“Have a good night,” he said, then turned and started walking again.

“People are trying to kill us,” Danica said.

Moss stopped. For a second he stayed facing away, as if deciding whether to turn back to her or just keep going. Then his shoulders sagged. He turned in place and looked at her again.

Danica nodded toward Dryden. “We have a document that says we witnessed something twenty-nine years ago, in the summer of ’89. And now somebody wants to kill us over it, whatever the hell it was that we saw, and you’re the only person in the world we can think of to ask about it.” She took a step closer to him, and when she spoke again her voice was softer. “You know something. I could see that in how you reacted a minute ago. You know what happened back then—or some part of it. You know something. Don’t tell me you don’t.”

Moss held her gaze for another two seconds and then looked away, into the night.