Time seemed to slow down as Rose turned in the driveway and pulled into her spot next to Bill’s green Saab. She climbed out. Seemed like an awful lot of flashing lights for a car accident in a parking lot. There were slashes of yellow tape across the entrance. Maybe a break-in? But why was there an ambulance at the building entrance, it’s rear doors thrown open? And why were so many people standing around, watching? Among them, she recognized the couple who owned the Chinese restaurant on the first floor and the young girl who worked at the dry cleaner.A man taking notes in a spiral pad was talking to a policeman. A newspaper reporter? At a parking lot car accident? Rose tried tamp down the sparks of fear that was threatening to ignite in the pit of her stomach.There was Al Murphy, one of the brokers who worked for them. He was staring up at their office windows, rolls of pink neck bunched at his suit jacket collar."Al?" she said, coming up behind him.As she said it, he turned to face her. He’d been crying. Something had happened. Something she didn't want to know."What?" she asked, unable to stopper the words.For a few seconds, his eyes searched hers. Looking for ... what?Finally, he said, "There's been a shooting." His voice was flat"A shooting." She heard herself repeat the words with the same lack of intonation.He nodded. "Bill."“Bill what?”“Bill’s been shot.”No. Not possible. It was as if Rose was hit in the face with a wall. A car accident or a robbery—that had to be what happened.She heard herself asking, "He’s okay, isn't he?"Al reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "I’m sorry."Rose’s vision telescoped. Her purse went flying. She watched its arc, as if she were watching from atop a roof of one of the buildings that flanked the parking lot."No!" she screamed, the sound faraway and empty.Al backed away, palms up, his mouth making words she couldn't hear while she pressed forward, driving her fists into his chest, trying to make herself feel something, anything.Then, somehow it wasn’t Al she was beating on. It was a police officer. He put his hands on her shoulders, the pressure gentle.