She could hear the laughter in the man’s voice and for a second thought they might know each other. He did look familiar, but that might be because he looked like a lot of forty-something men in the metro area. Put him in a navy suit and slap a striped tie on him, and he could work in her office.

“Excuse me.” She tried to maneuver around him and get to the street corner and a spot with better cell service.

“Jessa?”

She turned around to face him again. Something in the way he said her name made her twitch. A cool breeze blew over her. She shifted until she stood closer to the street and all the cars idling while waiting for the light a few blocks up to change.

“Do we know each other?” Maybe from law school or a case. His face ticked off a memory that she couldn’t quite grab.

“Baines Fielding.”

Okay, so from that case. One she wanted to forget. Better yet, pretend never happened. “What about him?”

“Did you know him?”

She swiped her finger to unlock her phone. She didn’t have to memorize the man’s face if she took his photo. Snap and hit the emergency SOS button. That was the plan.

“I’m Rob Greene.” He held out his hand. “I’m doing a story on a series of unexplained deaths in the area.”

Oh, hell no.

“I’m leaving.” She hated to put her back to him, but running into traffic struck her as an equally bad idea. She slipped her hand into her bag and pulled out her keys. Let them jangle. Let him realize she would punch, kick, and stab her way to safety, if needed.

She got a few steps before he spoke again. “This issue is not going away.”

Neither was he, apparently. New strategy. She shifted and went back to the gate to Retta’s house and pressed the button on the security pad.

“Good. I’d like to talk to the judge, too,” Greene said, moving closer.

The intercom barely made a sound before Earl, Retta’s husband, stepped out of the gate and onto the sidewalk. He made quite the impression in his expensive suit and equally expensive gold watch . . . holding a baseball bat.

A few passing cars honked their horns. Earl ignored the noise and looked at Jessa, as if to satisfy himself she wasn’t hurt. Then he turned to Rob Greene. “Is there a problem here?”

“He says he’s a reporter.” Wait, is that what he said? Something about a story. The anxiety pumping through Jessa made it hard for her to concentrate.

“Get lost,” Earl said and didn’t sound like he was joking.