The Palm Beach Murders by James Patterson (the read aloud family .TXT) 📕

her hand in mine, and up the stairs we go, with a peek into the kids’ rooms on the way by. Once we’re in our bedroom she takes off her robe, I shed my clothes, and we climb into our king-size bed.

Lights off. And while I’m still trying to figure out what else I can say to reassure my wife of nearly fifteen years, she pulls her nightgown up over her head and offers herself to me with a lingering, loving kiss. The kind of kiss built on a history of marriage and family that’s lost none of its flame or desire.

It’s not sex we have. It’s pure love. Which instead of being good for me, breaks my heart.

I toss and turn awhile, half awake.…

Where is all this shit going?

…And finally drift off into a reluctant sleep.

Chapter 31

Another day, another dollar, thanks to Paul, for now. Back at work.

The day of the pitch, and first a quick run-through before Zimmerman and his colleagues from Weight Watchers come to the office and dare us to amaze them. And we’ve got to. We need this business.

I’ve promised Steve some innovative, top-line insights into their business, and we’ll use some of the agency’s work to demonstrate how we’ve successfully addressed similar challenges for other clients. Weight Watchers has had, like, six agencies in the last ten years. Nobody can get it right, at least that’s what they think. But we can. I’m sure of it—with groundbreaking work that produces results.

That’s what a lot of agencies lose sight of—the work has to work! If it doesn’t sell the brand, or something relevant—it’s a waste of the client’s money.

I’m up in my cubicle, grabbing some stuff I need for the rehearsal, when I get a text from Barb Lundquist:

Congratulations! You’ve got the job! Linda loves you! Call to discuss details.

Yes!!! In the middle of all this chaos, all this horror happening around us, this lights me up!

Will do!! I text back, then head downstairs to the third floor and walk over to the meeting room. I’ve got our heavy hitters set up to participate in this one: Chris Berardo, our top creative guy—overlooking his bullshit from the other day; David Gebben, the copywriter; Bill Kelly, our best art director.

I’m taking the lead, as usual, and Bonnie Jo is set to partner with me on this one. So far everybody’s here except her.

Guess the smile on my face is obvious, because this is what I hear from Chris: “Tim, what the hell are you so happy about all of a sudden?”

“Something personal, but thanks for asking. I’ll let Paul know we’re ready for the run-through,” and I head over to his office while they set up.

I rap a knock on my way in and he looks up. “Paul, I know the timing on this totally sucks, but since our talk yesterday…you need to know.…”

“Know what?”

“I got the job.”

“Wow. Who’s it with, if I might ask?”

“It’s with Linda Kaplan, at Kaplan-Thaler. I’m going in as a partner and president!”

“Well, shit, fabulous! I’m actually happy for you. Seriously. Hate to lose you. You’re irreplaceable. But opportunities don’t come along every day, and when they do, you need to grab on to them.”

“Thanks Paul, you’re the best…I…”

“And now for some more reality, Tim, and I know you’ll understand this: We’re going to need you to leave right away. There’s no sense in you leading the Weight Watchers pitch when you’re on your way out the door. And word travels fast; I don’t want the others seeing you still here, knowing you’re leaving—which they’ll find out soon enough. Even worse when the client finds out, and they will, too. I’m still good for the two weeks’ severance pay, but that’s it.”

“Fair enough, Paul. I understand. Can’t say I blame you.”

“Yeah, well, everything else is coming apart at the seams, this just pours a little more gasoline on the freakin’ fire. Like…an inferno…” which he manages to say with a half smile.

“Needless to say I’ll step in on the new business pitch, although you’re a hard man to replace,” he says, generous to the end. “Tell the guys I’m on my way over.”

“Will do,” and I stand up and shake his hand, which is awkward, and he collapses right there in his chair, head in hands, scratching the hair on his head and rubbing his eyes. He’s actually moaning.

Chapter 32

I’m back in the conference room. “Guys, listen up. Got something to tell you. And this ain’t easy.”

I get mixed looks from David and Bill, an agitated glance from Chris.

“After five great years here, for which I’m grateful to all of you for making possible, I am leaving the Marterelli agency for a much-needed change of scenery. I know you guys can appreciate that, and…”

“Wow! Who’s it with, Tim?” Bill asks.

“Kaplan-Thaler, you know, with Linda Kaplan.”

“Damn, she’s cool, that’s for sure. And she’s built a great agency,” David says, and even Chris is forced to nod in agreement.

“Yes, she is. And indeed, she has. Now, the thing is, Paul, who has been incredibly supportive through all of this—for all of us—well, he’s asked me to pack up my stuff right away and get out of everybody’s hair. Which I totally understand.

“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