Five days later, on December 4th, Ash met with the police officer, just as the older man had asked. At first, he thought of ignoring the man and going on about his days as if their odd conversation had never happened, but then he thought he might as well have heard him out.
It would explain why he was sitting with the man who had requested they meet at a cafe in the town centre. It had been relatively close to the university, and Ash didn’t know if he should have been suspicious or grateful.
“I’m here,” he said after the two silently drank their coffee, staring at the middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, wearing black pants and a white button-down with a black tie. “What do you want?”
“I know you run.”
“As you’ve said. What do you want?”
“I know who your boss is, too.”
“Oh?”
