Penn regarded her with disconcerting intensity. “It’s your decision. You know how I feel. Do what you think is right, and we’ll go on from there … if we can.”

She felt dizzy. “Are you serious?”

He reached out and took her left hand. His skin felt cold. “We’ve been together for most of the past seven years,” he said. “That’s a long time to be involved without getting married. And if we really look at what’s kept us from taking that last step … it was your career. We met during the biggest murder case this town ever saw. You won your Pulitzer for your coverage. But deep down, you’ve always felt constrained here. Every couple of years, you’ve had to break out and hitch your wagon to some shooting star of a story to keep from going crazy. And that’s okay. But I also think it says something about what’s most important to you.”

Caitlin was trembling. She knew he could feel it through her hand. “That’s really going around the world for an insult. I think I’ve made my case tonight. And I think a lot of people would say my motives are purer than yours.”

“Now who’s talking like a lawyer?” he asked gently. “You’re right about one thing: this story is huge. But what matters in it are the people involved, not the articles written about it. You know me, Caitlin. I won’t let Brody Royal escape punishment for the things he did.”

“You promised him that you would.”

“I’m not bound by a promise to a murderer. In the end, justice will be done, no matter who prints the story. I’ll make sure of that. Kaiser will, too.”

“What’s written about it matters,” Caitlin insisted, her voice quavering. “The story matters.”

Penn nodded, but she could see that he didn’t agree. Not really. And if she were brutally honest with herself, she didn’t only want the story told; she wanted to be the one to tell it.

“Tell me one thing,” she said. “Did you mention ‘Huggy Bear’ to Royal? Or ‘Gates Brown’? Did you tell Royal there was a witness who could put him inside Albert Norris’s store on the day of that murder?”

“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!”