“Yes. I had to frighten him into a corner.”
Her cheeks felt cold. “Did you promise to give Royal that man’s name?”
“I don’t even know his name!”
She shook her head slowly. “Brody might not need the name. You know? Just the Detroit Tigers baseball cap, or the Detroit connection. That might be all a man like him needs to find and kill that man, whoever he is.”
“I didn’t give him that stuff!”
“It won’t be hard for him to find out. That’s why I haven’t published a plea for ‘Huggy Bear’ to come forward, or to call my cell. I knew the risk was too great.” Caitlin suddenly knew what she had to do. “I’m standing by my story,” she said in a flat voice. “I’m printing it all in tomorrow’s edition. I’ll show it to you now, if you want to read it.”
Penn dropped her hand and stared at her in disbelief.
“I protected your father. But I didn’t spare Brody Royal anything.”
She stepped behind her chair and laid her quivering hands on its back, as though it were a shield. “I’ve got editors standing by at nine papers, and every one’s on overtime. I’m seriously pissing my father off to make all this happen. Please let me get on with it.”
Penn walked to the credenza, picked up his pistol, and went to the door. With his hand on the knob he let out a long sigh, then turned back to her. “Are you coming home tonight?”
“I can’t—not with all this going on. As soon as the story goes up online, we’re going to have people calling from around the country. Around the world, probably.”
Penn only nodded, but his eyes said, Which is exactly the way you want it. You and your paper at the center of a media storm.
“Please don’t leave this building by yourself,” he said. “If you do decide to come home, get one of the guys to drive you.”
“I will.” She stood in the awkward silence, searching for words that could magically separate them without pain. “I hope Forrest Knox cancels that APB, anyway.”
Penn started to speak, then apparently thought better of it and went out, quietly closing the door behind him.
For the first time in what seemed a very great while, Caitlin felt tears running down her cheeks. As she tried to catch her breath, Jamie Lewis flung open her door and walked in, a sheaf of paper in his hand.
“Shit!” he cursed. “I thought you guys would never finish. Where are you on the hub story?”
Caitlin shook her head, then looked up and tried to blink away the tears.
“Jesus,” Jamie said. “Are you crying?”
CAITLIN LEFT HER EDITOR standing openmouthed in her office and raced for the back door, hoping to catch Penn before he left the employee parking lot. She didn’t really expect to overtake him, but when she threw open the door, she saw him standing about ten feet away, as though waiting for her. Blessed relief surged through her, until she saw two men standing beside Penn with pistols in their hands. There was blood over Penn’s left eye, and a cop lying prostrate on the ground behind him. She felt herself backing up even before she knew what she was doing.
“If you go back inside,” said one of the gunmen, “we’ll shoot him right here.”
“Go, Caitlin,” Penn said firmly. “Right now. Lock the door and call 911.”
The older man raised his pistol and pressed the barrel against Penn’s right temple. The gunman’s face was pale and bland beneath his long hair, and appeared to be without mercy or even concern.
Go, Penn mouthed silently. I love you.
“What is it you want?” Caitlin asked.
“Mr. Royal wants to talk to you,” said the younger gunman, who had a crew cut and looked slightly less ruthless than his partner. “Both of you.”
Brody Royal. Caitlin saw a van parked beyond the men, smoke puffing from its tailpipe. Penn stared into her eyes with chilling urgency. Then he shook his head.
“I’ll go with you,” he said, “but she stays here. If we don’t go soon, one of Chief Logan’s squad cars is going to circle through this lot.”
“He’s right,” said the younger man.
“Just a second,” said Longhair. He was looking at a cell phone while he covered Penn with the gun in his other hand. “This is going to be good. Watch.”
“Go, Caitlin,” Penn said again. “Right now.”
She wanted to obey, but deep within her brain, a bundle of nerve fibers told her that if she tried to flee, the tall man would kill Penn while his partner went after her. Penn’s eyes fairly blazed out an order to run, but before she could make a decision, someone flung her purse through the door behind her, then pulled it shut. She heard the bolt slide home.