On the surface, it was charming. The whole place encircled a small lake with a fountain in the middle. There were multiple playgrounds and walking paths dotted with dozens of trees.
But when she looked closer, she noticed small tents at the base of almost every bush large enough to offer shade. Several shopping carts had been pushed into the lake and embedded themselves in the shallow water, too far out to collect but not deep enough to sink out of sight.
And everywhere she looked, surreptitious transactions were taking place—behind trees or bushes, near trash cans or benches, occasionally while lying on the grass beside someone. She occasionally saw a cop go by on foot.
But the only time one had taken any action was when a man waving a hanger chased after a woman pushing a stroller full of plastic bags. Only when the stroller toppled over and the woman curled up in a ball beside it with the man hovering over her, shouting, did the cop amble over and say something. Whatever it was, the hanger guy ran off in the other direction and the woman in the fetal position stood up, organized the stroller, and wandered off as if nothing had happened.
This wasn’t what Hannah had wanted. She’d agreed to come as part of her ongoing “experiment in self,” as she’d taken to silently calling it, to determine exactly where her limits were. But sitting in a car, slowly getting sunburned, hadn’t afforded her much of an opportunity to test herself.
Before she could ponder that any further, she saw them. Errol and two of his friends, one male and one female, came down the walking path, trying to look casual and failing. They all sat down together on a bench in front of the lake. A few seconds later, a gangly figure emerged from a tent on a small hill about forty yards away. It was the dealer.
She recognized him immediately. It was made easier because he wore the same too-big striped green and gray shirt from the photo Kat had taken of him yesterday. But even without that, he was hard to miss.
Hannah guessed that he was in his early twenties. His unkempt brown hair stood up in random places and almost every bit of exposed skin was covered in tattoos, including much of his face, which appeared to have some kind of pinkish rash. Lanky and easily six foot four, he loped over to the kids like a slovenly giraffe.
Hannah pulled up Kat’s number and began to text the situation, then stopped. It occurred to her that this was an excellent opportunity to continue the “experiment in self.” The dealer didn’t appear to be armed. It was a public place in daylight. What would happen if she inserted herself in this situation?
She knew she was capable of feeling fear when her life was being threatened by a serial killer or a sibling’s vengeful ex-husband. But how would her body and mind respond to being in the presence of a scummy, fourth-tier drug dealer? She was also kind of curious to learn what made a guy like this tick.
I guess it’s time to find out.
She unlocked the car and got out, shoving her phone in her pocket as she walked in their direction. By now, the dealer had reached Errol and his friends and was standing in front of them, chatting amiably.
Hannah approached them, mentally reviewing the self-defense crash course Jessie had given her several months ago. She’d only agreed when her sister had insisted that she learn the moves or else lose her phone. Despite her outward reluctance, Hannah hadn’t minded. After all, Jessie had learned the techniques from trained FBI combat experts. There was something pretty cool about that.
By the time she arrived, she saw what looked to be a quick, clandestine exchange between Errol and the dealer of cash and some unidentified item. Both guys were shoving what they’d received in their pockets just as she joined them.
“How’s it going, fellas?” she asked affably.
The dealer and the teenagers all turned to her with startled looks on their faces.
“Do I know you?” Errol asked.
“Yeah, dude. We go to the same school, Errol. I’m going into senior year. You don’t recognize me?”
Errol looked embarrassed and confused.
“I feel like I’d remember seeing you. What’s your name?”
“Ha…Hallie, Hallie Hernandez,” she lied and, after getting a blank stare added, “You’re hurting my feelings here.”
“What do you want, Ha-Hallie Hernandez?” the dealer asked, eyeing her suspiciously. “We’re kind of in the