The voice coming from the shadows was deep and gruff. The next thing I knew, a figure emerged with a gun pointed right between my eyes—if I’m not mistaken, it was a Glock 43. Needless to say, I froze in my tracks.

"What are you doing here, and how did you find me?" he demanded.

"I’m new to the area and made a wrong turn on my way home," I said with my hands raised, slowly beginning to back away. "I’ll be on my way."

"Not so fast!" the figure snapped. "I can’t let you go now. You’ve seen me and know where I am. Just who are you?"

"Who wants to know?" I challenged. I had always wanted to say that, though perhaps this wasn't the best time.

"Never you mind, I’m asking the questions." He moved closer—close enough for me to see a tattoo-covered face.

Just then, a stray cat jumped onto a nearby garbage can, startling the gunman. Fortunately, I am licensed for concealed carry. I drew my Taurus GX4 and had him dead in my sights before he could recover from the surprise.

"Now put your weapon down," I ordered.

"Says who?"

"A former Navy SEAL," I bluffed. "Do you really want to mess with me?"

"Uh-uh-uh," he stammered, and disappeared back into the shadows.