The forty-something woman, at least five foot ten, stared at me for a moment. Slowly, recognition dawned on her. Then she said, “You’re the busybody from Marlboro. The guy that demanded we answer his questions. What’s your name again?”

“Mitchum.”

She smiled. “Are you like Cher or Madonna? You only go by one name.”

“Something like that.”

“Why are you stalking me?”

“You mean waiting in front of the building where I knew you worked? You call that stalking?”

“Yes.”

“I guess, when you think about it, it could be considered a little creepy. But all I want is to talk with you for a few minutes. Let me buy you some souvlaki. I know a place just over there.” I pointed to a large, hairy man I had spoken to earlier.

Agent Kravitz glanced over at the man, then shook her head. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Are you sure, because I feel like we do.”

She turned and said, “Good day, Mr. Mitchum. I have a busy schedule.” She said it without even looking at me. I had been dismissed.

I thought quickly and said, “That’s fine. I’ll leave. Do you happen to know the address of the New York Times? I got a buddy over there. John O’Neil, you know him? Hell of an investigative reporter. Never mind, I’m sure I can find it.”

When she stopped walking and just stood there for a moment, I knew I had her.

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Agent Kravitz motioned me to follow her, and I have to say, even for a tall man, I had trouble matching her pace. Despite me wearing Asics cross-trainers and her wearing attractive pumps, she moved with a determined energy that was hard to match. She also didn’t say a word. Or look at me. I just went with it. Stayed a few steps behind and kept my mouth shut.

In the next block, Agent Kravitz turned into a place called Potbelly Sandwich Shop. She nodded hello to a couple of people in the crowded chain restaurant.

I passed on a sandwich, and, after she had ordered her turkey on whole wheat, we sat down.

She said, “Are you on a diet?”

I chuckled. “I had a snack or two while I was waiting for you in front of the building.”

“You’ve got my attention for the next five minutes. Make it count.”

“Clearly, the only reason I’d be talking to you is about what happened up near Marlboro. Something the government kept very quiet. Something I haven’t spoken about to many people.”

She was listening, that’s all I could ask for. She said, “Go on.”

“You left the prison site with four people in custody. The injured woman, the stoner who shot the Wilkses, and two other men who seemed to be in charge.”

“I remember. You’re using up your time on useless information.”