Free Killer Deal by Sheryl J. Anderson Page A

it,” he said with a surprising edge to his voice. More than impatient, he was now troubled I hadn’t taken a seat. Or that I was asking the wrong questions. Not wanting to anger or annoy him, I sat down, putting my notebook and tape recorder on the conference table. Somewhat relieved, Ronnie swooped around the table to sit facing me, giving me a smile, then glancing at Paula.
    “Future of the agency,” she prompted.
    “Yeah. I know I’m damn good and so are my people. Garth’s people are tremendous. Gwen’s wonderful. But how many things in life really turn out the way we expect?” Ronnie shifted in his chair, having some difficulty getting comfortable.
    “Ronnie’s just being alert and cautious, as any good leader would be, about the process of mixing two companies. Especially in light of the tragedy,” Paula elaborated. Ronnie looked as though he were going to disagree with her assessment, but then his mouth shut and he nodded in agreement.
    “My bond with Gwen is what really matters, what I want most to save,” Ronnie said, working to focus.
    Not exactly the impression I’d gotten from Gwen. “Is it in danger?”
    “It’s hard to do business with friends, that’s all. Not that I
could ever replace Garth for her or Emile or any of them, but I gotta do what I can to protect them all.”
    “Protect?”
    “Whoever did this to Garth—who knows who else they’re angry at? Gwen could be in danger, too.”
    Glancing at Paula, I found she was already watching me for my reaction. “Danger from whom?”
    “The maniac who did this. Until he’s caught, Gwen needs to stay vigilant. We all do.”
    Everything I’d read or heard whispered or whispered myself had examined Garth’s murder as a single act, driven by either passion, which made Gwen the front-runner, or money, which shone a light on Ronnie. No one had yet suggested that Garth was the first on some sort of list. I checked Paula for her reaction, but she was looking at her boss steadily. This was not a new theory to her, but I couldn’t tell how much credence she gave it. Was it serious or just Ronnie trying to make himself a larger part of my story? Or Ronnie thinking he could stay out of the suspect column if he listed himself under “potential victims”?
    “You think you’re at risk as well?”
    “Shit, yeah. I’ve already spoken to the police about it.”
    “Do they share your concern?”
    Paula glanced down at the tabletop and Ronnie’s nostrils flared briefly. “They’re prepared to look into it.”
    I assumed that meant no. “Mr. Willis—”
    “Ronnie.”
    I acknowledged the gesture with a nod, but couldn’t quite bring myself to say it out loud. Something about his deliberate boyishness combined with the diminutive name smacked of trying too hard and made me uneasy. Was he covering up guilt or something else? “Do you have any suspicions about who might mean all of you harm?”
    “None. That’s what’s so frigging terrifying. It could be anyone. You have any idea of the number of hearts we touch, minds we change each and every day with our work? And if just one of them is sick, twisted, desperate, and takes issue with us, what can we do? Apparently, we can die all alone in
a hotel room, well before our time. Or we can be alert and ready.”
    I half-expected him to draw a pistol out of his waistband and wave it at me, but thankfully, he just smacked the table for emphasis. Not to be unsympathetic—losing someone close to you to murder is cataclysmic, especially if you believe it puts you in harm’s way as well—but Ronnie’s manic behavior seemed out of proportion. Unless there was someone impacted by the merger who could loathe Garth and Ronnie equally and see Ronnie as a viable next target. “Given your concerns, is it safe to proceed with the merger?”
    Ronnie looked queasy for a moment, then nodded. “I sure hope so. It’s what’s best for both firms. And I know it’s what Garth would’ve wanted.”
    “We’re