Chapter 22People were all around Brian, someone asking if he were okay. Brian nodded weakly. He could hear the sound of sirens, a faint echo at first and then becoming an unremitting wail as they drew near. How long had it been since the shooting? Two minutes? Five minutes? He had no idea. He climbed to his feet with help from one of the new faces in the office. No one asked questions. No one walked over to where Michael lay, expelling what blood he had left onto the ever-widening black circle on the rug.
Brian thought about the recorder in his pocket and made an immediate decision. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he told whoever stood beside him. “I'll be right back.” He walked over to the bathroom and closed the door. He pulled out the recorder and dropped the microcassette into the toi
