And that’s where they found her body. Her gorgeous body. With a bullet wound in the back of her head.

And Bonnie Jo?

I was seriously falling in love with Bonnie Jo Hopkins. The real deal, which was bittersweet because I’m already in love with another woman. My wife.

But our sex was…genuine. Intimate lovemaking.

We were genuine partners at work, too. BJ helped cast Tiffany for the CrawDaddy spot, and was on the shoot.

Bonnie was a social user. Just weed, really. She got hers from Ramon, just like everybody else. Always had some when I came over. Cool. Then she finally put two and two together, and was convinced she knew what really happened to Ramon.

And then in a world record slip of the tongue, I damned near called her Tiffany that night. Close enough. And that was it.

Our last night together—the all-time high and the all-time low in the space of a few hours. We experienced lovemaking like neither one of us ever had before, ever. Not even close.

And never will again.

It’s no coincidence these people were found dead right after the last time I saw them.

I murdered all three of them.

Chapter 41

Ramon was tough. My foxhole buddy. My partner. But he had to go. Squeezing me too hard.

I waited for the roof to clear the other night. He was leaning against one of the chimneys on the roof of our building, lighting a joint. Facing to the back, toward the alley, which helped. I pull my M9 out of my serviceable attaché, suppressor already mounted, place it to the back of his head, and pull the trigger.

I ease him down to the rooftop, brush his eyelids shut, straighten his legs out and fold his arms over his chest. Semper fi, my friend.

Tiffany? Much easier. There we were in the depths of Grand Central. I mean, hell, she’s already on her knees, preoccupied. I’ve still got my bag over my shoulder, pull my gun out, pull her besotted head back and slide the suppressor tube mounted on my M9 into her mouth, and before she realizes what it is, she flops over backward, knees buckled underneath her, wearing a stunned look of disbelief on her beautiful face.

And Bonnie Jo? That one hurt almost as much as Ramon. But she went ballistic on me, and who knows where that goes? I mean, she knows I’m a dealer. I’m afraid she’s got me pegged for Ramon. So when she was fast asleep, I did it.

Felt all clear then—except for Juanita.

She’s lucky. The cops saved her life the night they arrested me.

Chapter 42

I’m a kick-ass New York adman, Madison Avenue, yada yada. A wife who loves me. Two wonderful kids. I’m a family man.

Like I told Linda Kaplan: I’m a guy that makes shit happen. And I did.

I’m a guy who was confronted with tough, unbearable situations that left me with no options.