The man stood in the shadows, shivering, rocking from foot to foot to keep his toes from freezing and watched his breath whiten in the frigid air. It was only late October, but up here in Vermont the unseasonably frigid night felt like January. Across the street the lights of Davis Hall burned through the clear air and reflected a dull glow off the frost-rimmed grass.
The man checked his watch. Two minutes to four a.m. Most of the college kids have turned in for the night because most of the room lights were off. The man didn’t care about the kids at all. He cared about one single kid, in room 321, and he didn’t care about him in the way a parent might. He cared about him the way a risk management specialist cares about looming liability. The kid wasn’t a problem yet, but the man knew h
