“I am not scared!” Which might have been more convincing if my voice hadn’t raised two octaves. I cleared my throat. “I’m not scared, I’m pissed off,” I clarified. “Really fu—”

“Swear Pig,” Felix reminded.

I clenched my jaw. “Really freaking pissed off.”

Felix shook his head. “Tina, this isn’t something I can take lightly. What if something were to happen to you? I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me. I have rent-a—” I stopped myself just in time. “I have Cal.”

“Which is great,” Felix agreed, “but it’s just a temporary solution. Look, whatever this guy’s beef is, he’s clearly not letting go of it. What’s next? Do we wait until he’s actually followed through with a threat?”

I bit my lip. Yeah, that idea didn’t appeal to me too much either.

“Look, give me three days.”

“Three days?” Felix asked.

“Three days to track this guy down myself. If I can’t, then you can turn it over to the police.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“Think about it, Felix,” I said, grasping to strengthen my case. “Cops crawling all over the place, confiscating our notes and archives. That’s not going to look too good for the paper. Won’t be good for sales.”

Felix cocked his head to the side, contemplating this. “And just how do you propose to find this guy in three days?”

“I don’t know. I’m a reporter, I’ll think of something.”

“You’re a gossip columnist. That’s a far cry from Bob Woodward. When was the last time you actually investigated anything?”

I snapped my mouth shut, narrowing my eyes at him. Mostly because I couldn’t remember. While I’d done a pretty successful stint at my school paper in college, since then I’d been perfectly happy to leave the hardhitting stories to other reporters. My talent was spinning. Give me any nugget of news, and I could turn it into a dishy, dirty, salacious bit of snark that cut the famed and fabulous down to the level of average Jane Reader.

Clearly, I hadn’t investigated many death threats. But that didn’t mean I was giving in.

“Three days,” I repeated. “That’s all I’m asking. Come on, I think you owe me that.”

“Owe you?” Felix spat out the words, crossing his arms over his chest in a much scrawnier version of Cal’s stance.

“Yes. For saddling me with Barbie.”

“Allie.”

“Whatever. Look, you know how long it’s taken me to make the kind of contacts I have. They don’t grow on trees. The best thing for all of us is to keep this thing quiet. Please. Three days.”