Drex directed Gif to the convenience store. “Let me out there. I’ll go the rest of the way on foot.”

“You sure?”

“I don’t want my nosy neighbors to see you dropping me off.” Gif pulled over. Drex said, “Call me with your new location.”

“As soon as I’m checked in.”

Drex reached for the door handle, but Gif said suddenly, “Listen, Drex. I gave you some grief about her, but I had started hoping, for your sake, that we were wrong.”

Drex didn’t react except to say a brusque “I’ll be in touch.” He got out, shut the door, and tapped the roof of the car twice. Only as Gif was driving away did he murmur, “Thanks, buddy.”

He went into the twenty-four-hour store. A different cashier was on duty. He made his purchase, then set out for the apartment. He was skirting the green belt, looking for a place to cut through that wasn’t too overgrown, when he spotted a lone runner on the street, coming from the opposing direction, taking form in the mist.

She must have seen him at about the same time as he saw her because she slowed her pace to a walk. She looked toward the other side of the street, as though considering crossing it to avoid him. But then she squared her shoulders and continued toward him.

He stopped where he was, forcing her to close the distance between them. But he took small satisfaction in that, because, even though he was cold with rage over how thoroughly he’d been duped, the sight of her up close made him hot and hard. Her tights and top were wet from sweat as well as from the elements. They conformed to her like a coat of paint, revealing the shapeliness of her legs, the perfection of her breasts, the small points of her nipples.

Her eyes were the color of the cloudy sky. Like the mist, they held mysteries. Her ponytail hung heavy and damp against the back of her neck. A bead of water dripped off a loose strand of hair at the side of her face and rolled down her cheek like yesterday morning’s tear.

Which he’d fallen for. Like a lovesick kid. Like a damned idiot.

He suppressed a rush of renewed anger and said, “You’re out early. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Thunder woke me up.”

“It hasn’t thundered.”

“Then it must’ve been something else.”

“Must’ve been.” He looked her over, making her aware that he was aware of every curve, dip, distension. “No spin class today?”

“They weren’t open yet.”

“You could’ve waited.”

“I wanted to get an early start on the day. So did you, apparently.” She indicated the grocery sack.

“I needed milk.”

“Why didn’t you drive?”

“I needed exercise.”

“What’s that?” She pointed at the duffel bag.

It hung against his side by the shoulder strap. He patted it. “That? That’s my bag of tricks.”

“I can see you’re going to be obtuse.”

“Obtuse. Ranks right up there with morose.”

She shot him a look of annoyance and gestured as though to say she needed to be on her way. “Have a nice day.” She tried to go around him. He sidestepped to block her. “Please let me by.”

“Did you tell him?”

“Tell who what?”

He gave her a smile that was insolent and, he hoped, infuriating. “Your husband, Talia. Did you tell Jasper about the kiss?”

Another squaring of shoulders. “Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course I told him.”

“And what was his reaction?”

“The same as mine.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

She read the innuendo in his drawling tone and the snicker that accompanied it. “Go to hell.” She tried to move past him, but he blocked her again. “Cut it out, Drex!”

“Jasper was upset?”

“No, not upset. Outraged that you would dare.”

“Really? Then why didn’t he barge up the stairs, kick in my door, and tear me apart limb by limb?”

“Because he isn’t governed by animal impulses.”

“Neither am I. If I were, we would have done a hell of a lot more than kiss.”

She slapped him. Hard. It smarted like hell, but he only laughed. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”

“Stay away from me.” She nudged him with her elbow as she went past and took off running.

He turned to watch her, saying under his breath, “Liar.”

She stopped and came back around. “What did you say?”

He didn’t answer.

Raising her voice she repeated the question, enunciating each word.

By contrast he leaned forward and spoke in a whisper just loud enough for her to hear. “I said ‘pants on fire.’”

Chapter 17

Following his three-way call with Drex and Gif, Mike had been unable to sleep. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling until daylight, then got up, showered, and dressed without any readjustment of his morning routine.

However, for what he was about to do, he did not have a method for mentally preparing himself.

His breakfast consisted of two toasted bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon, a bowl of strawberries floating in heavy cream, and three cups of coffee with three teaspoons of sugar each.

Thus stoked, he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

But as he held his cell phone in his palm, he was once again gripped by indecision. For the next few minutes, he did some tough soul searching, telling himself that he could still change his mind.

Ultimately, however, he determined that he was doing the right thing. Without further deliberation, which could produce more doubt, he placed the dreaded call.

A gravelly voice answered. “Rudkowski.”

“It’s Mike Mallory.”

As though waiting for a taunt, Rudkowski didn’t say anything. Had he been shocked speechless? Or was he rigging up a way to record the call? Mike figured both.

Finally Rudkowski said, “And?”

“I think you’re an asshole of the most rectal sort.”

“You interrupted my breakfast to tell me that?”

“No, I just thought you should know up front what I think of you, in case you didn’t know already.”

“I had more than an inkling. Now if that’s all, my oatmeal is getting cold.”

“That ballyhoo you raised about a search warrant? All you achieved was to make me look like a victim of your peevishness and make you look like a douche.”

“A matter of opinion.”

“It’s unanimous. Even the agents you have watching my house would agree. You won’t risk a search because you know you won’t find anything.”

“Maybe I’ll get a warrant and maybe I won’t. But whatever I decide about that, I’m keeping you under a microscope until I know what’s going on. Your crony Gif took time off to have hemorrhoids removed. Really? Hemorrhoids? Nobody in his office remembers complaints of such.”

“It’s hardly something he would discuss with coworkers over lunch.”

“Don’t even try to cover for him. His sudden need for surgery coincides with your ringleader’s vacation. Vacation,” he repeated with scorn. “I know Easton is up to something. You three musketeers are playing with fire, and you’re all going to get burned. Again.”