He looks a little embarrassed. “Well, you know, I wouldn’t say Icriedexactly. But there was definitely a lump in my throat.”
He looks down at his shoes and wipes them on the mat again. “Anyway, I really need a charge so I can call my cousin back and find my way.”
He reaches around to the other butt cheek and pulls out his wallet. “Here, this is me.” He hands me a thick, non-bendy, matte gray business card. “Look, no mention of murdering anywhere in my job description.”
Owen Dashwood
CEO
Two Coast Tech
San Francisco
So, he’s from California. And probably not hurting for cash.
Oh, God. Of all the people I wouldn’t want knocking on my door tonight, or at any time, a rich west coast guy would definitely be near the top of the list. Just below deranged chainsaw-wielding maniac.
I sigh and drop my head, my forehead clunking against the door chain.
“Oooh, careful.” He steps closer and touches my arm through the gap in the door.
A shudder ripples down the side of my body. It had better be from the freezing air and not from his touch. That would be beyond inconvenient.
Owen leans to one side and peers at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, thanks. Fine. It’s just…well, never mind.” I hand back his card.
“You can keep it.”
“Oh, right, yes.” I guess you generally don’t give people their business cards back.
“Then you can tell the cops my name.”
“After you’ve murdered me? Might be tricky.”
“Well, maybe after I flee the scene, leaving you dying, you’ll just about be able to muster the strength to dial 911 before losing consciousness.”
“AndnowI’m supposed to let you in?”
“The call I need to make is important.” Now his eyes plead as well as sparkle, a combination that nibbles at my defenses. “And I’m extremely lost.”
I’m sure he’s fine. It’ll be fine. I’ll charge his phone, then he’ll go. And everything will be fine.
I unhook the chain, swing open the door, step back, and let him in.
There goes my relaxing, peaceful, solitary night on the sofa.
Ruined by a potential ax murderer.
But what a beautiful way to go.
3
OWEN DASHWOOD
Fuck me, this is frustrating.
First, the car rental office at the airport had only tiny hatchbacks left, none of them with GPS. Then, when I thought I couldn’t be far from my aunt and uncle’s new place, I found myself in a blizzard, with no working phone, and barely able to see the front of the hood, never mind the road signs. God knows how far back I took a wrong turn. Should never have stopped my assistant from booking me a driver.
