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As usual, I became absorbed in the information in the file and the eyes looking back at me from the photo. I wasn’t sure how much time I spent staring at it, but a movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention and I looked up in time to see Kim making her way towards my booth, holding a tray of food over her shoulder. I quickly slid the papers back in the file and shoved it down into my bag.

“Here you go, sweetie,” she said as she laid the food in front of me. My mouth watered at the sight of the delicious meal. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“No, ma’am. Thank you, this looks great,” I responded.

“Such manners,” she sighed. Her eyes wandered over my face, but then she turned and made her way back to the kitchen. Feeling uncomfortable with the attention, I shook my head as I picked up my fork and dug in. As I ate, I went over the plans in my head for once I reached Columbus.

I’d just finished the last bite when Kim sauntered back over. “How was everything?” she asked in a peppy voice.

“Very good, thank you,” I told her sincerely.

“Did you save any room for dessert? A slice of chocolate cake or cherry pie perhaps?” she urged.

“No, ma’am. I’m not sure I could fit another bite,” I said, leaning back in my seat and patting my stomach.

“Are you sure? Miss Patty makes the best pie in the county and I’d hate for you to miss out on it before you leave. In fact, she’s won the blue ribbon three years in a row at the fair. She says it’s because she uses…” Kim continued speaking, but my attention was drawn to the front door where a man had just walked in.

He was dressed in a gray tank top and jeans that were smudged with grass stains as if he’d been doing some sort of yard work. His dirty-blond hair was cut short around his ears, but the top was kept longer, allowing some of the strands to hang down over one eye.

I followed his movements as he made his way to the counter and spoke to the waitress there. She smiled at him then I watched as she handed him a white carry-out bag of food. He pulled a wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and reached inside, pulling out several bills. He handed them to her, waving her off as she offered to get his change.

He turned to leave, and our eyes connected for just a second, but it was enough to make me feel as if I’d been sucker punched. “Where did you say you were headed?” Kim’s voice cut into my thoughts just as the man walked out the door, closing it behind him.

“Umm, I didn’t,” I responded distractedly. “Do you know the guy who just left?”

She glanced over her shoulder and we both watched as the man climbed into an old beat-up blue Ford truck. “Who? Oh, that’s Zach.”

I looked back at her, the hair on the back of my neck standing up. “Does he live around here?”

“He moved here a couple of years ago. Works over at the lake,” she informed me.

“Which lake is that?” I asked, already climbing up from my seat. Kim eyed me suspiciously but answered anyway.

“Bradbury Lake. It’s a pay lake just down the road.”

“Thank you,” I said, grabbing my bag and tossing more than enough money on the table to cover my food and a tip.

I raced out the door and hurried to put the name of the lake in my GPS. Seconds later, I turned around in the parking lot and peeled out onto the road. A couple of miles down the road, I turned into a gravel drive and pulled to a stop. A sign welcoming me to Bradbury Lake stretched over the entrance to the drive. It was blue with various fish hand painted across its surface.

I slowly crept down the long drive, my tires crunching the gravel below and kicking up dust in my wake. The lane was nearly a quarter of a mile long and as I neared the end, I let out a whistle at the surprising beauty laid out before me.

The setting sun shone over the lake’s surface, casting beautiful pink and orange streaks across the water. The area was surrounded by trees, cutting it off from the rest of the world and giving it a private and secluded feel, even though it was obviously open to the public.

I pulled up alongside a small building with a sign that read BAIT SHOP and I turned off the engine as I looked around. The lane I’d been on separated at that point, going off in either direction and circling the lake.

Having been born and raised in Boston, Massachusetts, I’d never been fishing in my life, never really understood the draw of it and it seemed absurd to me that people would actually pay money to sit and stare at a pole, but it was obviously a very popular thing to do in the middle of nowhere Ohio. There were campers and tents scattered along the edge of the lake, their owners spread out, enjoying the warm spring air. Some were grilling their dinners over open fire pits while others sat in chairs, laughing and drinking beers with their buddies as they kept an eye on their fishing poles and prayed for the fish to bite.

I could see a woman moving around inside the bait shop and I figured she must work there. Maybe she could tell me more about the guy the waitress had called Zach. Perhaps I could even charm her into telling me where he lived. I got out of my car and continued to scan the area as I came around the side of the building, but suddenly, I stopped in my tracks.

On the other side of the lake, situated just inside a heavily wooded area, I saw several small cabins. They looked fairly new from what I could tell, but what caught my attention was the old blue Ford parked at the side of the furthest cabin to the right. A man sat on the tailgate of the truck. I could tell it was the same guy from the truck stop because of the clothes he was wearing.

As I watched, he wadded the white bag beside him then stood and stretched his arms up over his head. His hands came back down, but he left his face tilted up towards the sky. He stood that way for several minutes and I found myself unable to look away. Finally, he dropped his head back down and turned, making his way to the front door of the cabin. It must have been his place because he pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

I continued staring until he’d disappeared inside the cabin and then I turned to walk into the bait shop. I glanced down at the sign in the window and a plan immediately started to formulate in my head. I didn’t even have to force a smile as I walked up to the counter and introduced myself to the woman working there.

After six months of searching through the proverbial haystack and turning up absolutely nothing, it seemed my luck had finally changed. If what my gut was telling me was correct, I may have just found the elusive needle.

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