Page 14 of Kill Your Darlings

I walked slowly back to the sofa, picked up the fallen tumbler and set it on the glass coffee table.I picked up the manuscript, studying the contact details at the upper left of the title page.

U.N.Owen

My lip curled.Someone knew their Christie.

I read the address.

U.N.Owen

1926 Old Stage Road

Steeple Hill, California

[email protected]

(650) 699-5033

Steeple Hill.

My legs felt shaky.I sat down abruptly on the sofa.

Okay, but that made sense.That would follow, wouldn’t it?Only someone from Steeple Hill could possibly know—

But, no, itdidn’tfollow, because the only two people in Steeple Hill who knew anything about the night Dom died were me and Milo.And Milo…

That had not been Milo today.

I couldn’t quite visualize the man who’d shoved the manuscript into my hands.I’d barely had a look at him, and maybe that had been deliberate on his part.I had changed.Milo would have changed.But despite the silver hair, U.N.Owen was too young to be Milo.Too young to be a contemporary of ours.That much, I’d noticed.

I stared down at the pristine printed pages.

Thiswas not Milo.

For one thing, Milo knew what had actually happened.

But so did U.N.Owen.

Sort of.

Enough.

Enough to paralyze me.

How?

Had Milo told someone?

Impossible.

And why would someone wait twenty-three years to come forward?

Come forward?Was that what this was?

Following that first flight or fight response, my heart began to calm.My hands were almost steady as I began to flip through the manuscript.I was still afraid.Still completely bewildered.But my brain had kicked in.I had questions.Many questions.

Questions that mounted as I speed-read my way to the first blank page.

I turned to the next page.Blank.

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