“Is any of that true?”

“All of it is. And if you give it to someone like Rollins, she’ll have it on the air as soon as possible, and that will drive Carol out of his hiding place.”

“Why can’tyoutell her? Why me?” Theo asked.

“Because she doesn’t trust us. She’ll listen to you, and she’ll believe you.”

“Don’t you think she’s gonna wonder why I’m suddenly helping her out?”

“Just tell her you know she’s connected to people in the film industry. You figure if you do her a solid, you’re hoping that what goes around comes around.”

“So I tell her about this photographer, and then what?”

“She’s going to ask if she can meet with you and interview you,” I said. “Say yes, but not now. Until the cops catch this killer, you’re keeping a low profile.”

“Sounds easy. Let’s do a dry run.”

Theo was a quick study. Ten minutes later, he had his spiel ready. He dialed Megan’s number. She picked up on the first ring. “I don’t recognize this number,” she said. “Who is this?”

“Theo Wilkins. I’m calling from a burner phone.”

“Theo! Howareyou?” Megan gushed. She didn’t wait for an answer. “I’ve beendyingto talk to you.”

“I know you wanted to interview me, but—”

“Interview you? You mean about chasing that maniac on your bike? Sweetie, that was a thousand deadlines ago. Old news. Now I’ve got something completely different and way more interesting.”

Theo turned to me. Megan was off script, and he didn’t know how to respond. I twirled my hand in the air and mouthed the words “Keep her talking.”

He took a deep breath. “‘Way more interesting’ sounds, um... way more interesting. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“After I left you in the hospital, I called a few of my friends at NYPD. It didn’t take long to find out that the guy who was driving the pickup you crashed into was a suspect in Curtis Hellman’s killing. So I called his widow, Brooke. She knew nothing about the man you were chasing, but when I gave her your name, she knew you. She told me all about the TV pitch you made to the brothers. Theo, I love it. It’s gotmegahitwritten all over it.”

Theo’s face lit up. “You think?”

“Sweetie, I don’t just think. I know. That’s why I called Kirby Diehl.”

“Kirby... Kirby Diehl?” Theo stammered. “The producer?”

“TheA-listproducer who nowlovesyour idea. Meet me at my apartment for a drink, and we can talk about it.”

Theo looked at me. I waved my arms back and forth like a referee calling “no basket.”

“Your apartment?” Theo said, losing his swagger. “I... I... I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

“Oh, Christ, Theo. Did the cops tell you to beware of the black widow who wants to lure you into her web? Fine. I’ll meet you in a crowded public space. The front steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Fifth Avenue. One hour.”

“I... I, um...”

“For God’s sake, kid, don’t be such a wuss. Grow a pair. Yes or no? Three seconds.”

Theo froze. I was still signaling no, but he was no longer looking at me.

“Two!” Megan decreed.

“Kirby Diehl,” Theo said, mesmerized by the possibilities.

“Opportunity of a lifetime,” Megan said, digging the hook in deeper. “One! Yes or no?”