into the room and closed the door behind them. He asked Menundez if he’d shared with Rudkowski the autopsy report on Marian Harris.
“Not yet. I saved Easton the honor.” The younger detective produced the report and passed it to Drex. “I circled the notation in red.”
“Thanks.”
Rudkowski shouldered between them and snatched the printout from Drex. “You’re under arrest. I’m considering booking her, too.”
Talia uttered a sound of dismay. “What for?”
“Leaving official custody without permission. Obstruction of justice.”
Locke and Menundez began protesting, but Drex talked over them. “You’re not going to arrest Talia,” he said. “Stop being a jackass and read that.”
With impatience, Rudkowski slid on a pair of reading glasses and homed in on the marked spot. “A button was missing off her blouse. So what?”
“So…” Locke proficiently explained its relevance. “This links that Florida cold case to our two here.” Menundez also had printouts of the other two reports and showed Rudkowski the notations about the missing buttons.
Rudkowski removed his glasses and said, “Well, it’s a commonality that warrants further investigation. But it could also be a coincidence.”
“Our chief of police doesn’t think it is,” Locke said. “Neither does the sheriff’s office, the state police, or the local FBI agents working the Elaine Conner case, or the SAC in Columbia.”
Rudkowski said, “You went over my head and talked to him before bringing this to me?”
“We couldn’t find you,” Menundez said, deadpan. “You must’ve been in the john.”
Before Rudkowski could form a comeback, Drex again held up a hand that signaled for quiet. “Locke, with your permission, I’d like to speak to Rudkowski alone, please.”
Rudkowski huffed. “So you can crow, I suppose.”
“I don’t consider the murders of three women something to crow about,” Drex said evenly.
“Oh, you’ve gone sentimental? Must be the influence of your new girlfriend here.”
Talia stepped forward as though to whale into him. Drex put out an arm to hold her back. “You’re a small-minded weasel, Bill. Ask anybody. And there’s a lot of bad blood between you and me. For once, put it aside. While you’re standing here tossing out insults to a woman who outclasses you by about a thousand times, and trying to get the best of me, a serial killer remains at large.”
“Even if that were so,” Rudkowski said, “it’s none of your concern, is it? You’re over, remember?” He held the printouts directly in front of Drex’s face and shook them. “By the way, this constitutes theft of a document pursuant to an active federal investigation. I can add that to your other offenses.”
Drex pushed the papers away from his face. “I didn’t steal that report, Locke obtained it. As per usual, you’re missing the big picture. Let’s talk about it, man to man.”
“Sure, we can talk, but I’m immune to you. Nothing you say will change my mind.”
Drex turned to the other three and motioned toward the door. “Maybe I can make him see sense, and he’ll tear up that arrest warrant.”
“Not going to happen,” Rudkowski said.
Drex ignored him and appealed to Locke. “Give me a few minutes with him.”
Locke said, “God knows you’re good at talking people into doing what they don’t want to do.” He motioned Menundez and Talia out.
She looked at Drex with concern. He bobbed his chin in reassurance. Still looking uncertain and worried, she left with Menundez. Locke hung back. “You’ll have won some favor and faith by coming here of your own volition. Don’t screw it up.”
“Duly noted.”
Locke left them. Drex closed the door and turned to Rudkowski, who confronted him, one eye squinted, his head tilted. “You want to parley?”
“Only because all other options have been exhausted. Much as it pains me to ask anything of you, can we declare a truce?”
“What are you trying to pull? One of your pranks?”
“No.”
“One of your switcheroos that you find so funny and cute?”
“Not this time. I swear.”
Rudkowski snorted.
“Hear me out, Bill.” Drex pulled a chair from beneath the table. “Seat?” Rudkowski looked at the chair as though it might be a clown’s collapsible prop, but he sat down in it. Drex took the chair across from him.
Rudkowski said, “Let’s hear it.”
“Give me back my badge.”
Rudkowski’s expression went blank. “Where’s the punch line?
“No punch line.”
“That’s got to be a joke.”
“No joke.”
“It’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a decade.” Then he did guffaw. “Even if I gave it back, it’s worthless now.”
“I need it for a day, one day, twenty-four hours. Then…” Drex raised his hands in surrender. “You can have me.”