"What about Max?"
"Pierre, Max is dead. He died in a car crash last night. I just found out a few minutes ago. I gather you didn't know?"
Of all the possible pieces of bad news that Mike Fields could have brought him, this was the farthest from his mind. Max dead? Not possible. Why, he was with him till after 10 last night.
"Max, dead? No way. What happened? I don't believe it. This is some kind of joke, right?"
"Pierre, I'm afraid I'm all too serious, unless CHiPs is in on it. They found a car, pretty well burned up, at the bottom of a ravine on I280. Looks like he went through a barrier and down the, well . . .I . . ."
"I get the idea, Mike. Who . . ?" Pierre stuttered.
"It was an accident, Pierre. One of those dumb stupid accidents. He may have had a blow out, fallen asleep at the wheel, oh . . .it could be a million things. Pierre, I am sorry. So sorry. I know what you guys meant to each other. What you've been through . . ."
"Mike, I have to go," Pierre whispered. The tears were welling up in his eyes.
"Wait, Pierre," Mike said gingerly. "Of course we're gonna put off the offering until . . ."
"No. Don't." Pierre said emphatically.