Page 53 of Snitches and Serpents

Whirling around, I whip my head from side to side, frantically searching for the source of the voice. I jerk back in surprise as I find a man leaning against the wall behind me. He’s positioned to the right of the front door, in a spot where he can’t be seen from inside the police station. Which is why I didn’t see him when I walked out.

Recovering, I flick a quick glance up and down his body.

He’s wearing a black baseball hat and a gray hoodie that zips up in the front. In the dark, and beneath his cap, it’s difficult to see his features clearly. But he somehow manages to both look casual and intimidating at the same time as he stands there, his arms crossed over his chest and leaning one shoulder against the wall.

“I’m sorry?” I say, and glance from side to side since I’m not even sure if he was talking to me.

But there is no one else here.

He pushes off from the wall and straightens, letting his arms drop down by his sides. Then he takes a step towards me. “I said, you’re welcome.”

I instinctively take a step back.

He notices that, and hesitates for a second. Then he continues towards me again. “I’m not going to hurt you. If I had it in for you, I wouldn’t have made sure that they dropped the charges against you.”

I’m halfway to telling him that I need to go when his words register. Freezing mid-step, I stare at him with my mouth slightly open. He uses my moment of surprise to close the final distance between us. But he doesn’t do anything else. He simply stops in front of me.

This close, I can see his face better. His eyes are gray, and he has a fairly forgettable face which also makes it difficult to tell his age. Though I would guess somewhere between twenty-five and thirty.

“You got them to drop the charges?” I manage to press out at last.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Why?” Staring at him, I shake my head. “Who are you?”

“Who am I?” He tilts his head back and looks up at the dark sky for a few seconds. Then he heaves a deep sigh before tipping his head back down and meeting my gaze again. “I’m someone who wants to see justice done.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I can help you. If you help me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said that Tristan Kane was blackmailing you.”

I start slightly, stunned that he knew that.

He chuckles, and nods towards the police station behind me. “I have a lot of friends in there.”

“I…” I shake my head again, feeling more confused than ever. “I still don’t understand what you want.”

“I can keep you from getting arrested on false charges again. And keep you from getting expelled from your university.”

Hope flares up inside me.

He must have been able to tell, because he raises a finger in warning and adds, “If you do something for me.”

“Do what?”

“I want to know about Tristan Kane’s movements. I want to know where he goes. Who he sees. And what they’re doing.”

“Why?” Suspicion twists inside my chest like cold snakes as I narrow my eyes at the stranger. “Who are you? Who is Tristan to you?”

He holds my gaze, his face an unreadable mask. “All you need to know about me is that I am someone who wants to see justice done.”

“I—”

“This is the only offer you’re going to get. Take it or leave it.”

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