Instinct Trust

Here is a story I wrote last night that I really want some honest feedback on. I think it starts out well but falls flat at the end (mainly the last three paragraphs). I also don't like the title. Any ideas of how to fix this without making it much longer?

I checked my watch for the tenth time and drummed my fingers impatiently on the bridge railings. I had three seconds, if he wasn’t here in time, I was—shuddering I forced the thought out of my mind and began to concentrate on the silvery fish splashing in the river below me. 

“Excuse me, do you have a light?”  A low rough sounding voice asked from behind me.

I turned around anxiously scanning the face, hat, and rumpled clothing of a field hand--was this him?

“I’m sorry; I don’t make it a policy to carry matches on me.”

“That’s okay I guess.” The man graveled and walking over to the railings he too leaned dirty elbows on them and began scanning the horizon.

I looked to either side of me at the roads leading on and off the bridge. No one else was in sight. Glancing at my watch I saw that it was the exact planned time of the meeting. So then this had to be the man but why had he not given the pre-appointed signal?

“Lovely evening.” I offered lamely.

He looked at me for a moment from under his dilapidated derby and then back out towards the far distant mountains. “Yes.”

I sighed and slumped my shoulders, tired after a long day’s journey and wishing he would just get down to the point.

“Do you like to come here of an evening?”  I tried again.

“No.”

This was going nowhere quickly. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and cleared my throat.

“We don’t like strangers around here.” His voice didn’t sound threatening, simply informative and he bent down to scratch his leg.

I licked my lips and rubbed my hands together unsure what I should respond.

“They bring crime with them.”

“I understand.” I nodded my head and tried to look sympathetic, where was he going with this? “I’ll only be here for a few hours so you won’t have to worry about me.”

“Those are the worst types. Come, rob and are off before you can get back what they stole.”

“Oh.” I chewed on my lip.

“Why are you here?” He shifted his gaze to look me strait in the face one greasy hand slouched into a half torn pocket.

“Traveling through on my way to Vlandeze.” I forced myself not to drop my eyes guiltily.

“Didn’t they tell you this area was not keen on new comers?” I could tell he doubted me.

“No.”

“They did tell you that this is an unused back road in a town twenty miles out of the beaten path for Vlandeze though didn’t they.” His gravel had lowered into something resembling more of a growl.

I forced myself to look him boldly in the eye. “Yes.”

He grunted and turned back to the mountains. “That was the first honest answer you have given me tonight.”

“Yes.” I admitted.

“Where are you from?”

“I grew up out in the country near Gomer.  Lived on a farm most of my life.”

“Did you? Which end of a cow gets up first?”

I blinked and faltered. “The f-front end.”

“Never lived on a farm for an hour in your life. Back end.”

“Oh.” I was doing a terrible job with this and he knew it.

“Do you have any papers from the city?” he was still turned sideways to me, looking way up river his derby on crooked hiding his eyes from my view.

My heart jumped and skipped a few beats. Finally he said the signal but why had he waited so long. My suspicions were aroused but I couldn’t stand here bantering all night, I had extreme shortage of time.

“No. I’m sorry.” The words startled me. They were not the signal answer that I had intended to give. “I-I don’t read papers much myself.”

He shot a quick sharp look at me and I could tell my answer surprised him too.

“What is the real reason you’re here for boy?” his growl was very threatening.

“Made some enemies in the camps and don’t want to have any meetings with them.” It was true enough though I had left out a few major details.

He bristled like a wounded tiger. “All the more reason we don’t want you around here, Convict! You better let me see a clean pair of heels mighty fast boy.”

Why hadn’t I given him the correct answer? Now it would seem out of place if anyone where secretly listening but I really need to get him those papers. If caught with them by certain people I would—I again shoved the idea out of my mind. Something had made me not trust him. Something inside me still screamed danger. Without a backwards look I showed him the heels he asked for.

 A week later found me a mile outside of Vlandeze worn down to a frazzle but safe and sound with the papers. They had caused constant terror for me and I was sure at several different times I was being followed but I had always succeeded in losing my shadow and today I was near headquarters.

  As I stepped into the office my boss took one look at me and jumped out of his chair.

“Tieniat!” He grasped my hand excitedly. “We all thought you were dead. They set a con on your trail. One they say is real crafty and the day after you were supposed to deliver you package one of ours found the guy you were supposed to deliver it to murdered in a field and without the papers on him! We all thought the con had killed you both and gotten the papers.”

My breath caught in my throat. So my instincts had proved me right, that man was no good. After I had finally given him a satisfactory answer he must have decided I wasn’t the right man and hoping to get rid of me in case the real guy came along he assumed a threatening demeanor. Boy if he had only understood, I was in the camps as a guard, the enemies I had made were the cons I was guarding, and that I now worked as an agent for the king—I smiled and handed my boss the papers. It was nice not to have to think about that anymore.