Then he looks over at me.

“Slam dunk, based on what MacGhee’s telling us. Want to get him away from the others to talk. But you need to know because that’s where we’re headed right now, and that’s why he’ll be leaving with us.”

Paul and I watch as the detectives approach the meeting room and gesture for Chris to step outside. There’s twenty seconds of detective speak from Quinn and then they turn him around, place his hands up against the wall and pat him down! Surreal.

“How did you know about the gun, Tim?” Paul wants to know.

“Don’t ask, Paul. You wouldn’t believe it anyway.”

All anyone can do is stare in disbelief. Gloved, Quinn removes a pistol from Chris’s inside jacket pocket, drops it in the evidence bag Garrison’s holding, and pulls Berardo’s hands down behind his back to cuff him. As they escort him out I get a satanic stare from Chris that would pierce a granite wall.

He’s not looking for answers anymore. He knows.

At least now the cops have a lead suspect.…

Chapter 35

The agency is completely unwired, just like when Ramon got killed. No, worse. The sooner I get out of here, the better.

Quinn’s across the way, and his eyes follow me as I cross the third floor and head for the back stairs, tracking my every step. What the hell?

Bill Kelly approaches. “Tim, oh man, I am so, so sorry for all of this. And look, I just want you to know how especially sorry I am for you and…Bonnie Jo…I…”

“Why, man? I mean, we all loved Bonnie Jo. I worked very closely with her over the years. Just like a lot of you.”

“Just wanted you to know, that’s all,” he tells me, with what amounts to a knowing look.

Jesus, what else do people know about me?

I grab a couple of empty boxes from the kitchen storage room and head up the back stairs. And here’s Lenny smoking a joint! “What the hell, Lenny? Have you lost your freakin’ mind?”

“Want a hit?” he says.

“No, I don’t,” I lied. “Put that thing out and get the hell out of here!”

Yeah, it’s time to go.

I’m crossing over the fifth floor to my cubicle and pass Clay Caulkin’s workspace. He’s one of our top account guys. “Hey, Clay, you okay?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he says. For the first time I see the old Adweek column, “Making Stuff Happen,” actually framed and hanging on his wall.

“Clay, I can’t believe you’ve still got that old Adweek column on your wall. So do I. No wonder you’re so damned good.”

“Whatever,” he says. He looks defeated, and I don’t blame him.

There’s nobody around when I get to my cubicle. Got one more thing to take care of, so I pull out the note Juanita gave me.

“Como?” she answers on the second ring.

“Juanita, buenas tardes. It’s Tim MacGhee, and I have some good news for you. We’ve been able to collect some money for you.…”