“So I’m heading upstairs, and will stop back by on my way out. Meanwhile Paul is on his way over and will take the lead on this. You’re in great shape, and I’m sure Weight Watchers is going to be impressed.” This time my smile is ear to ear, and genuine.

And then it is absolutely crushed. Mo practically crashes through the sliding glass door before David can pull it open for her.

She’s hysterical.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my God!”

She’s bawling, struggling to get a sentence out, and when I hear it my life is officially upside down.

“Bonnie…is d…d…dead! Bonnie Jo is dead! Murdered. They found her in her apartment, dead!”

Chapter 33

Stunned silence. Groans. Gasping breaths. Faces twisting into sorrow, and anger. Bill buries his face in his hands. Mo collapses into my arms, and I gently sit her down.

The new business pitch is instantly forgotten. I can hardly breathe.

Chris looks up toward the ceiling. “Sweet Jesus, what in the world is going on?” and shakes his head, unconvincingly. I’ve never heard him talk like this. Gebben picks up a chair and slams it against the wall, to shrieks from the others.

I’ve got to see if I can do something, anything, to help. Can’t leave my mates like this.

“Okay, guys. Okay. Let’s try to get a grip here. This is insane. Awful. And scary. And weird. Clearly somebody has it in for us. But we’ve got to try to keep our cool—otherwise they win.” I’m trying to create some calm, but it’s just barely working.

“Tim. Tim…” Mo says. “What should we do? What can we do?”

I know one thing I can do, something I should have done yesterday: call Quinn about Berardo and his gun.

“Hang on, guys, give me a minute.” I head for the third-floor restroom, where I can call Pete.

“Detective Quinn,” he answers.

“Pete, it’s Tim. Sorry to bother you.…”

“No problem, Tim. No problem at all. What’s up?”

“Now this thing with Bonnie Jo is simply beyond the pale. Insane. Madness. I—”

“It certainly is, Tim. Certainly is. And needless to say it just puts Marterelli’s deeper under the microscope. What the hell is going on over there?”

“Damn good question, which is why I’m calling you…and Jesus, I feel like a traitor…but I know you guys are counting on me and something happened late yesterday that I think you need to know about.”

“I’m listening.…”

“Right before I left work last night, I had a visit from Chris Berardo, our creative director.”

“I know who Chris is.”

“Well, and I don’t know quite how to say this any other way…he’s carrying. He’s got a pistol. Showed it to me, and I have no idea why.”

“Are you sure, Tim?”

“Absolutely. And of course with an all-points out for a murder suspect who’s killing people with a gun, a pistol, and now Bonnie Jo, well…”

“Absolutely, Tim. Would have liked to have known about this last night—but you’ve done the right thing, thank you,” he says, and hangs up.