But getting this far had taken too long. How long could Keith keep talking? Drew already wanted to kill Keith for the sake of a budget; now he needed to silence him for what he knew. And there was no reason for him to wait.

Fear for Keith tasted sharp and strong. I needed to hurry, had to hurry, had to move faster . . .

Snap!

But even if I hurried, I had to be quiet. Like a cat on the hunt.

Keith coughed loudly. “But like I said, you’re not as smart as you think you are. To make any substantive change to your funding level, you’d have to eliminate twenty-five percent of your retirees. And that kind of a murder spree would get noticed.”

“They haven’t yet.”

I jumped. Drew’s voice was far closer than I would have liked. Somehow I’d thought he was farther away. Somehow I’d thought I’d have time to get all the way around the yard. Somehow I’d thought this would all work out.

“How deep have you looked into the actuarial valuation?” Keith asked. “The city has six union divisions, right? You should have taken a closer look at the multipliers. What is it for the public works guys, 2.25? Hang on, it’s not 2.5 percent, is it? You know, I think it is. Those are the guys you should be taking out first.”

Since I had no idea what Keith was talking about, I filed it away in my mental “Look it up later” file and kept crawling.

“Most recent retirees would have the highest payout,” Drew said. “Only makes sense.”

Past the brush pile, the going was easier. I got up onto my hands and knees and sped to the other fence corner.

“Just on the surface,” Keith said. “Actuarial calculations are based on averages; payouts are on the particulars. It’s a guessing game. Family history, personal history, regular activities, they all matter. And then there are the beneficiaries.”

While half my brain listened, the other half, the much bigger half, was intent on speed-crawling.

“What about the beneficiaries?” Drew asked.

There was a noise that sounded a lot like a footstep. On the patio.

No, no, no, he can’t be that close. I’m not far enough yet, I’ve been too slow, I need more time . . .

Keith laughed. “Don’t tell me you haven’t asked for a roster. Do you even know who you’re paying money to? Maybe one of your retirees had a longtime spouse die, remarried someone much younger, and last week died peacefully in bed. Now you’re stuck paying a pension to the beneficiary for as long as they live. Those are the people you should be targeting—way more bang for your buck.”

My throat tightened. How could Keith keep talking like that, knowing Drew was about to come around the corner of the outside kitchen, was about to lift his gun and—