Thirteen Million Dollar Pop Read Online Free PDF

surprise, for what had transpired in the garage last night. That had been referenced in some short, linked articles, which chalked up the shooting to random violence, inner-city crime, and the glut of guns on the streets; but Kolodnik had made an announcement that was much bigger news.
    A press conference had been held—the one that Kolodnik had mentioned on his call before the shooting—to announce that the state’s senior senator had just resigned his seat to fight advanced prostate cancer, the junior senator was now senior, and there was an opening. In cases like this in Indiana, a special election wasn’t held. Instead, it became a gubernatorial appointment, and Kolodnik had been handpicked by the governor as the replacement to serve in the Senate until the next regular election four years out. The governor had tapped Kolodnik, saying, “His business and community leadership is unparalleled.”
    “I look forward to taking a leave of absence from the day-to-day operations of my company to act upon a long-held goal ofmine: to enter into public service,” Kolodnik said, “to work to curb crime and increase prosperity for all Indiana citizens.” His stake in his company would be moved into a blind trust to be managed by a third party until such time as he left government. Barring any confirmation problems, Bernie Cool was going to Washington.
    He must have one hell of a PR machine
, Behr mused, seeing how the shooting had been tucked away into obscurity behind the announcement. Then another thought lodged itself in Behr’s head, considering what little he had gotten done on his own day after:
that’s one single-minded son of a bitch
.
    There was a photo of the press event held in the glare of the sun on the statehouse steps right by the statue of old Oliver Morton, the governor during the Civil War. Behr made out a few of his counterparts behind Kolodnik, his neatly bobbed wife, and the governor up on the podium. He didn’t recognize them as Caro boys, at least not from the Indianapolis office, but he could spot the breed. They were professional body men, perhaps hired from Kroll, Executive Solutions, or Securitas—which was what Pinkerton was called these days—or maybe some other outfit. They looked like they were sweating up there in their blue suits and dark sunglasses. But Kolodnik didn’t look overheated. Of course he didn’t, he was Bernie Cool.
    Behr sat there, staring at the computer screen for a long, long time, wondering what else he thought. Then the tone of an incoming e-mail sounded. Behr clicked it open. It was a company-wide humor post from Pat Teague, a list entitled “Ten Reasons Guns Are Better Than Women.” Number ten was: “You can trade in a .44 for a .22,” and number one was “You can buy a silencer for a gun.” Behr put the computer to sleep, stood, and left for the day.

9
    “What about that one?” Susan said, pointing to a girl in a plaid skirt and white blouse sitting momentarily alone at the bar. “Strawberry blonde. Pretty face.”
    “The hair works …” Chad Quell, her coworker agreed.
    “You’d know,” Susan laughed. “You probably spend more time on yours.”
    “Very funny. But I’m gonna pass. Too much makeup and I don’t do cankles,” Chad said.
    “Cankles?”
    “Calf and ankles with no delineation in between.”
    “ ’Ey, don’t harsh on the cankles, young man,” Susan said.
    “C’mon, you’ve got special dispensation. A pregnancy pass.” Chad smiled.
    “Thanks a lot,” Susan said. There were moments when she saw the beauty in it—the round belly, the glow of incipient motherhood, nature’s majesty. There were other times when she just felt big and sloppy and with her youth behind her.
    “Can’t believe it—little Suzy Q., having a little one of her own.”
    “Better believe it,” Susan said, even though she still had trouble doing so herself most of the time. She surveyed the big table, nine or ten chairs now empty, the detritus of