"Are you ok?" Richie asked from what seemed like the other side of the world. Melvin didn't answer; instead, he grabbed at the concrete wall of the parking garage to break his fall as his knees buckled. Stars flittered in front of his eyes, and he couldn't breath.
A car pulled up next to them. The door opened.
"Get him in," a woman's voice said. It sounded like Bridget Briswell, his lawyer. But how did she know where he was?
"Brenda?" Richie asked.
"No, stupid ass. I'm Bridget. Help me get him in the car." Melvin felt hands grip him under his armpits, and the world went black.