“So,” Gif said, “what’s your second impression of them?”

“Nothing they said or did triggered an alarm. They acted like a married couple.”

Mike said, “Since neither of us has experience with matrimony, could you be a little more descriptive?”

“They’re familiar. She brushed a crumb of hamburger bun off his beard. He flicked away a mosquito that landed on her arm. Like that.”

“Were they affectionate?”

“To an extent.”

“To what extent?”

“Look, Gif, if you want me to talk dirty to you, you’ll have to pay me sixty bucks a minute.”

“You don’t have to bite my head off. Just give me a for-instance.”

Drex swore under his breath. “Okay. For instance, when Jasper returned from his errand, she thanked him with a wifely kiss on the cheek, and he repaid it.” Then he kissed her on the mouth. Hard. And, swear to God, I believe he did it to see how I would react. But he didn’t tell Gif and Mike that because they would want to know how he had reacted.

“Did you get the night vision binoculars?”

“They were delivered today. Along with a new box fan. Good thing I added the fan to the order. Jasper mentioned seeing the UPS truck.”

“Like he wanted to know what you’d had delivered?”

“That was my take. I explained it away by telling him about the fan. Returning his gives me a reason to go back to their house at least once again. And I invited them out to dinner, along with Elaine.”

“When?”

“Soon as I can swing it. I tried not to sound too eager. Mike, what have you learned about Elaine?”

“Mr. Conner of Delaware was husband number two.”

“What happened to number one?”

“Marriage fizzled early on. No substantial funds to divide. He remarried before she did. Mr. Conner was an older widower, pillar-of-the-community type, died of cancer. They were married for thirteen years.”

“Kids?”

“Not together. He had one son, who was killed in a car wreck on his twenty-first birthday. Lost his son before his wife died.”

“So Elaine inherited everything?”

“Right,” Mike said. “But the net worth isn’t as staggering as we estimated. She’s rich. She’ll never have to clip coupons. But she’s not über-wealthy. Nowhere close to Marian Harris or Pixie, or to most of the others, now I think about it.”

“How do her assets compare to Talia Shafer’s?”

“Exactly which assets are you referring to?”

“Back off, Gif,” Drex snapped. “I’m working here, not pining over a married woman. Don’t start with that crap again.”

“Is it crap?” Mike said. “Her name comes up, you act like you’ve been goosed with a cattle prod.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Make that two cattle prods,” he continued. “Why is that? Why so touchy?”

“I’m not touchy.”

“I stand corrected. More like hot under the collar.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“If I’m hot,” Drex said, “it’s because there’s no AC in this fucking apartment. And every once in a while, I catch a lingering whiff of dead rodent. All I do all day is pretend to be writing a book, which entails sitting in a kitchen chair till my ass goes numb.”

“I suppose that could explain your bad mood.” That from Gif.

“I’m not in a bad mood.”

“Well, whatever,” Mike said. “What I’m about to tell you isn’t going to improve it.”

Drex pinched the bridge of his nose, only now realizing how exhausted he was. The unrelenting tension—guarding against making a mistake that would give him away, the constant observing and being under observation, not to mention lying by omission to his friends—was taking a toll on him physically.

Fatigue had no place is this undertaking. Shaking it off, he took a deep breath. “What now?”

Mike said, “That woman you got to type your faux manuscript?”

Drex had been prepared to hear much worse. “Pam? What about her?”

“She called me today. Said you’d given her my number.”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“Because for obvious reasons I didn’t want to give her mine. I told her that if something urgent came up in the office and she needed to reach me, you were my go-to person.”

“Well, something came up in your office.”

Drex’s heart bumped, but he didn’t ask. He waited Mike out.

“Rudkowski called there, looking for you.”

“What?”

“Three times, after his assistant put in the initial call. He worked his way up the chain of command, demanding to know where you were and how he could reach you.”

“Shit!”

“This Pam thought I should know so I could inform you. She offered to help in any way she could if you were in a jam and needed her to cover for you. She asked me to tell you that. Made me promise I would. She seemed earnest.”

“She’s earnestly man-hungry,” Drex said absently as he tried to process this news about Rudkowski. “She wants a stepdaddy for her two kids. Maybe she thought the project I gave her was an inroad to…something.”

“Is it?”

“Hell no,” he replied with impatience. Then, “Did Rudkowski try to reach either of you?”

“Not yet,” Gif said. “But Mike gave me a heads-up, and I dodged calls for the rest of the day.”

“That’ll work for only so long,” Drex said. “If he doesn’t show up at your desk himself, he’ll dispatch someone. If you’re asked—when you’re asked—you haven’t seen me, didn’t know my vacation plans.”

“The regular drill,” Gif said. “Play dumb.”

“Which he won’t believe,” Mike remarked.

“Play it for as long as you can get away with it,” Drex said. “Stick to your day duties, but it’s red-alert time, boys.”

“What’s worrisome—” Gif began.

“Is the timing of the asshole wanting to talk to me today.”

“That’s what rattled Mike and me,” Gif said. “How long has it been since you two had any contact?”

“Not long enough.”

Drex came out of his chair and went over to the window. He pulled the edge of the shade away from the framework, creating a crack just wide enough to focus the new binoculars on the house across the way.

Gif said, “I don’t think Rudkowski’s call is a bizarre coincidence.”

“But what roused him?” Mike asked.

“Must’ve been that deputy in Florida,” Drex said. “Rudkowski’s name was in the case file. Gray sounded green, eager to help. If he was doing some kind of follow-up and couldn’t reach me, he’d likely contact Rudkowski.”

Mike sighed. “If you’re right, you need to destroy the phone you used when you called him.”

“Already have. It’s on the bottom of the Atlantic. After talking to him, I threw it out the porthole in the head.” Thinking of the yacht reminded him. “Any progress on that picture, Mike?”