with suspicion. One asked Menundez, “He was booked today. You didn’t think twice about giving him a weapon?”
“I only thought twice about taking his,” Menundez replied.
Locke picked up. “We entered through the back porch and found Mallory lying prone on the kitchen floor. He was unconscious, not dead.”
Indeed, Mike’s eyes had fluttered open as Drex’s fingers plowed the folds of fat beneath his chin in search of a pulse. Mike had pushed Drex away with one hand and pointed them upstairs with the other.
Locke said, “I stayed behind to call in medical help for Mallory and to apprise your guys of what was happening. I asked them to approach covertly. Easton and Menundez proceeded upstairs.”
“What happened when you got up there?” The question was addressed to Drex.
“We heard their voices. Approached with caution. No sooner had I motioned to Menundez that I was going in than we heard him say that he was going to kill her. When I cleared the door, he had her in a headlock. I tried to talk him into letting her go. He didn’t heed. I shot him in the leg.”
“Tricky shot,” a policeman remarked. “You must have had excellent marksmanship training somewhere.”
“Alaska. A school buddy of mine.”
“A hunter?”
“A hoodlum.”
Just then, Locke was pulled away from the group by a uniformed officer. Drex and Menundez continued to answer questions. When Locke returned, he reported grimly that a woman’s body had been discovered in a local motel. “It’s estimated she’s been dead for at least twelve hours. Cause of death, forcibly broken neck. A button is missing from her dress.”
The news cast a greater pall over the already somber scene. The coroner came and went. Jasper’s body was taken away, but not before a velvet pouch with a drawstring was found in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. It was placed in an evidence bag. To it, Drex added the brass button he’d ripped off.
The house was cleared of excess personnel, although there were still officers and investigators milling from room to room, carrying out various responsibilities. Drex found Talia in the living room, talking with Locke.
“We both need some air.” Without waiting for permission, he motioned Talia off the sofa and took her by the arm.
Locke didn’t protest, but he said to their retreating backs, “Don’t go far.”
They made their way through the kitchen, where Menundez was availing himself of the coffee machine. They crossed the lawn to the garage apartment and sat side by side on a lower step of the exterior staircase. The wood was damp from the recent weather, but the rain had stopped. For the first time in days, the sky was clear. Moonlight shone through the branches of the live oak tree, casting shadows.
They didn’t talk for several minutes, only held each other. When she did angle away from him, she said, “Mike’s going to be all right?”
“I talked to him by phone about half an hour ago. The nurses are drill sergeants, the doctors prepubescent idiots, they’re giving him Jell-O and calling it food. He said that he’s too fat to choke with bare hands, that anybody with half a brain should know that. He was at his grumpiest. In other words, doing well.”
“Does Gif know?”
“I talked to him, too. Told him everything.”
“What did he have to say about it?”
Drex knew what she was referring to, but he answered by saying, “That he’s wanted to choke Mike himself many times.”
She smiled, and he smiled back, but the aftermath of the crisis caught up with them simultaneously, and they kissed ravenously, clutching at each other, assuring themselves that the other was there, whole, alive.
Drex felt her tears on his cheeks, or was he the one crying? Taking her face between his hands, he said, “On the way here, I died a thousand deaths. When I heard your voice—”
“I know, I know,” she said, laughing and crying at once. “I felt the same when I heard yours. Thank you for saving my life.”
“I gunned him down in front of you, Talia. Are you…I wasn’t sure how you would feel about that.”
“Oh, God, Drex.” She nestled closer to him. “Profound gratitude and relief that it’s over. He’s done. That’s how I feel about it.”
He bent his head over hers and kissed her crown.
“There they are.”
Instantly, they separated and looked toward the house. Rudkowski was strutting toward them, Locke, Menundez, and another man, a stranger, trailing him.
“Jesus.” Drex stood up and said to Rudkowski, “We don’t have to do this now.”
“Not