Their greeting over, Donna's expression turned serious. As usual, she looked even hotter serious than when she was smiling.

"Terrible news from Mary Farrell--John Achatz has been shot at the Public Library."

"Shot?" he echoed. "Here in Boston?"

"Tom, you know as well as I . . ."

It was true. In spite of the fact that Massachusetts has some of the toughest gun control laws in the U.S. and Boston one of the lowest murder rates, shootings still happened there, Kush reflected bitterly.

Even in broad daylight. Which it already was, being after seven. The annoying blare of sirens during the past few minutes now made perfect sense.

Kush was thunderstruck. There were so many unanswered questions: Where was John now? Was he alive? And: how could he have reached the Public Library so quickly? 

Other questions were no mystery at all. For example, why John's wife was named Mary Farrell and not Mary Achatz. Not changing their last names was not at all uncommon among baby-boomer-age wives. Especially in the Northeast.