The manager, a gray-haired woman in a black blazer, raised both hands. “Mr. Hollis, please stay calm,” she said. “Everything is under control.” Walter stopped, his grip on my wrist tightening, and his lip trembled. “Margaret,” he whispered, “I did exactly what the agents told me. Why are they here early?” My head spun. The manager glanced at me, softened her voice, and said, “Ma’am, you are not in any danger. Please, come sit with me for a moment.”

She led us to a small back office, and the two men from the SUV followed, showing badges. “I am Agent Foley with the FBI,” the taller one said gently. “Mr. Hollis has been helping us for three weeks.” My knees nearly buckled. Walter lowered his eyes. “I am so sorry, Margaret,” he said. “I never wanted to scare you. I only needed a tall woman, and you were the first match who agreed to come.”