Kill Me Again Read Online Free Page B

she might have to lie to him, then wondered what reason anyone would have to execute him. And then he wondered if the two things were related.
    He looked her up and down slowly. No. She really wasn’t the type.
    â€œSo if I’m famous and I agreed to come to town to speak, why didn’t anyone know who I was?”
    â€œYour terms were explicit and a little extreme,” she said, averting her eyes. “We were only allowed to advertise a secret special guest speaker and had to promise not to tell anyone it was you. We had to make the event by invitation only, and we were told to invite only the top one hundred most generous contributors among our alumni. No more. So there’s been no press announcement or publicity around this at all. With it being limited to invited guests only, advertising wasn’t necessary.”
    He was watching her, and it occurred to him that he was looking for signs she was lying and not finding any. And that was an odd thing to catch himself doing, wasn’t it? As if he was accustomed to being lied to, as if he knew what it looked like. “So I’m famous enough to get away with those kinds of bullshit demands?”
    She shrugged. “The university agreed to all of it.”
    â€œSo that’s a yes, then.”
    â€œI sent you my business card, with my unlisted number and home address handwritten on the back,”she said, pulling the card from her pocket and handing it to him.
    â€œSo you have my home address?” he asked quickly, a gusher of hope rising in his chest.
    â€œNo, I sent it to the P.O. box. That was the only return address on your reply to me. Sorry.”
    He felt the disappointment but tried not to let it show by focusing on the card she’d handed him, turning it over as he checked it out. “Did they find any prints on it?”
    â€œHow did you know that was fingerprint dust?”
    He shrugged, handing the card back to her. “Isn’t it?”
    â€œWell, yes, but I didn’t know that. Neither did Dr. Overton.”
    â€œThe redhead?”
    â€œYes, the redhead,” she said.
    She sounded a little exasperated with him, and he found that mildly amusing. She was so staid and tucked in, he found he enjoyed ruffling her a little bit.
    But she was staring at him, awaiting an answer. He sighed. “I don’t know how I knew. I don’t know anything. Remember?”
    She nodded, taking the card from him and setting it on the table beside his bed. Then she snatched a few tissues from the box there and used them to wipe the black smudges from her fingertips.
    â€œSo you’re sure that’s the card you sent me.”
    â€œI certainly haven’t sent anyone else that information,” she replied.
    That caught his attention, because it was such an adamant reply. As if it were ludicrous to think she might have given her personal info to anyone else.
    Maybe it was. There was more to this woman than had been apparent at first, he thought.
    She seemed to try to pull her focus back to the matter at hand. “To get back to the subject, Mr. Westhaven was due to arrive today.”
    â€œArrive where?” he asked.
    â€œMy house. He—you—were going to use my guest room. But he never arrived. And my card, the one I sent to him, was on you when the boys found you.”
    â€œAlong with the pocket watch and key ring they found on me, it’s the sum total of my worldly possessions at the moment.”
    â€œStill, that’s why it’s fairly obvious that you’re him.”
    He nodded. “If I am him, I still say I sound like a pompous prima donna. Making you people jump through all those hoops just to get me to visit for an afternoon.”
    She shrugged, but her puzzled frown was genuine, he thought. “It seems clear that you have reasons to guard your privacy. Big reasons. Reasons that go way beyond just being a prima donna, Aaron.”
    It was odd, being called by a