Ziggy read it twice. Turned it over—nothing on the back.
She pulled her hair from the clip at the nape of her neck. "That's a threat."
"It's vague and it doesn't give us much," he said. "We've had eight of them this year alone.”
"Then why does this one look like it got under your skin?"
"You know how I get this time of year." He folded his arms. "And this year, it's worse. We might control what stories we run now, but the twenty-fifth anniversary is coming, and every other show and reporter out there is going to go after it. That makes me nervous."
She thought about that teenage boy walking into a courtroom, and the man who'd spent twenty-five years outrunning everything attached to that day, and how no matter how far he ran, that past was always a half step behind him.
"He's kept his promise all these years," she said. "Do you really think he'd change his mind now?"
"Honestly? I don't know." Noah pushed to his feet and slowly crossed the room, leaning against the door. "I haven't spoken to him in ten years—when that tabloid show tried to get him to talk. I took a big risk going to see him. He told me he'd never expose me unless I wanted him to." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "He also said he missed me. That he wished I could separate what he'd done from the fact that he was still my father." Noah closed his eyes for a moment. "He said he was proud of me."
"You never told me you saw him again."
He gave a dry laugh. "I figured you'd be hung up on the omission."
She crossed to him. "I'm not hung up on the third visit." She rested her hand on his forearm. "I'm hung up on how much it's obviously tortured you. It explains a lot about how you get this time of year."
"You do like to psychoanalyze me."
She palmed his cheek. "And you like to push my buttons and push me away."
"Isn't that what best friends are for?" He curled his fingers around her wrist and kissed her hand. "My birthday always makes me a little crazy."
"I tried to talk Jag and Callie out of the party. They feel like they owe you."
"For what?" He pulled his head back. "If you tell me it's because I didn't do what other reporters did and try to make them look like idiots—because Callie spent a year working alongside the killer who murdered her sister…” He trailed offand arched a brow. "Your brother was a damn good detective, and he's an excellent police chief. The Trinket Killer went decades without getting caught. They weren't fools. They were driven by grief. Besides, a killer like that knows how to blend in." He shrugged. "I should know."
"You told their truth without making it cruel. I've watched you do it a hundred times." She dropped her chin. "Same way you let tonight's guest walk away with a little of his humanity intact."
"He wasn't the worst person in the world." Noah glanced at the card. "We should send that to Boots. Let her assess whether the threat's real." He hated bothering Boots, the station's investigator, with personal things, but this was the exact reason the station had hired her. He looked back at Ziggy. "Now. Where is this party?"
"Your place." She winced. "I gave Darcie the key this morning after I disabled your alarm."
He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Sneaky devil. I'm revoking your privileges."
"Right. Then who brings you tequila and pizza?"
He pressed his lips to hers—which shouldn't have been remarkable. He kissed her all the time. Just not on the lips, and he never lingered. But he lingered now, and she knew exactly how long because when he didn't pull back, she started counting.
Fourteen seconds.
She couldn't have told anyone why she counted. She just did.
"I'll do my best to act surprised." He stepped back.
"You’d better." She turned on her heels, snagged her bag, and reached for the card.
"I'll handle that." He lifted it from her hand. "Drive safe."
"You, too."
On shaky legs, she made her way down the hall, her heart loud in her chest. She hadn't fought for Noah five years agobecause what was there to fight for? She'd watched him go from one meaningless relationship to the next. Why would she ever be any different?
But fourteen seconds didn't feel like friendship.