She set the wine bottle on the table next to the answering machine. “Just to make sure. And I made Dale promise he wouldn’t publish anything about Owen.” She was wilting under his cold stare.
“You don’t think a reporter is going to keep a secret about someone who’s had media attention before?”
“I do. Look, I had to find out about Owen’s past. You weren’t going to tell me. I figured, Dale’s a reporter, so he has to be good at finding out stuff. But they protect their sources, too. There was a reporter who went to jail because he wouldn’t reveal his sources.”
His voice was dangerously low when he said, “Did you tell him about my visions?”
“No, God, no. Nor about my hearing the killer’s thoughts.”
Then it hit her, what Dale had said. “Adrian, he said Owen killed someone. Is that true?”
He walked into the bedroom and started putting on his pants. She ran in after him, snatching up her pink silk robe. The room felt cold now, stippling her skin. “Adrian, don’t go. My feelings were right about him. He did kill someone.”
He looked at her as he pulled on his shirt. “You don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve probably ruined him, both professionally and personally. And maybe the magazine, too. Who knows the fallout once this goes public?”
She followed him to the door, touching his shoulder. “Tell me what he did.”
He brushed off her touch. “Yes, he did kill someone. When he was seven, his stepfather beat the heck out of his mother again. Once he was done with her, he usually turned on Owen. That time was the worst. The man had a knife and threatened to cut off her finger. Owen grabbed the man’s gun, the one he would probably have used on them eventually. It was the only way he could think of to stop him. He’d tried to do it once before, but the guy threw him against the wall and broke two of his ribs. His mother was too scared to get them out of there. So Owen fixed it, as a kid thinks he can, because that’s how it works on television and in video games. He shot the man.”
Her hand went to her mouth. “That’s terrible.”
“There was an investigation, but he was never charged with murder. How that jerk found out about it I’ll never know. I’ve got to warn Owen. I don’t want him finding out by surprise. Or worse, having someone else tell him.”
He left, slamming the door shut. “Lock it,” he barked.
Even mad at her, he was concerned about her safety. That made it even worse. She might have destroyed his friend’s life if he wasn’t Kiss and Kill Cupid. Now she was going to pay the price by losing the best man she’d ever found.
Kristy called Dale once the shock had worn off. “What did you find out?”
He told her basically what Adrian had told her. “So if he’s killed once, he could kill again.”
“Dale, you promised you’d keep his name out of the paper.”
“Unless he’s Kiss and Kill Cupid.”
“Right, unless. But otherwise—”
“It’s hot news, Kristy. But I did tell you reporters had to have integrity.”
She wasn’t exactly comfortable with that answer. “Yes, you did.” But had he actually promised not to print anything about Owen, in those exact words?
“I think we’re onto something here. The tool I saw you with today, is that Adrian Kruger? Owen Bushnell’s business partner?”
“Tool?” Before she could get annoyed about his calling Adrian that, she frowned. “When did you see us together?”
“I saw you coming out of his office building. You two look pretty cozy.”
Well, they used to. “Never mind him. What do we do about Owen?”
“I’ll follow him on Valentine’s Day. I’ve got his home address. But…what if he’s not the killer? What about you? Are you going to be with the tool?”
“I’ll be fine.” Would she? No, she knew Adrian well enough to know he wouldn’t abandon her. “I’ll talk to you later. Oh, and he’s not a tool!”
As she hung up, her roommate came in. Her gaze went right to the kitchen. “Oh, great. A mess. And pot handles sticking out!” She trudged to her room and shut the door with a bit too much force.
Kristy turned around and did the same thing. Let her get a good look at the mess in the morning. Kristy just didn’t care.
Chapter Seven
The next day, Kristy held off for as long as she could before calling Adrian: eleven o’clock in the morning. She was relieved when he answered. “Hi. Look, I just wanted to know—”
“I’ll be there tomorrow. And yes, you’re still hired, and you’re still going to Wimberly.”