Chapter 31
Twenty-five minutes later I sat in my car at Calvert Road Park, clutching the file as I waited for the black compact to appear.
I had the radio on low. I could make out Billy Joe Armstrong of Green Day singing a request that someone wake him up when September ended. I was beginning to feel that way about October. The last couple of weeks had passed slowly as molasses. I glanced at my watch and looked around the parking lot. No other cars. Nothing to duck behind, not in the lot anyway. I swiveled round to scan the trees behind me. At one end of the lot were restrooms in a nondescript building with a shabby forest-green roof.
I didn’t see anyone. I tried to calm myself by singing along with Billy Joe.
I watched a black car reach the entrance and turn into the lot.
“Summer has
