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“Questionable? Did you really run off with a material witness?”
“Yes, in order to try and save her life. I don’t want her to meet a fate similar to Marian Harris’s. Which is why I’m calling. I think I’ve found a link between—”
“You’re not hearing me, Easton. You have no authorization. I can’t help you.”
“All I’m asking is that you send me the coroner’s report on Marian Harris.”
“That report is exempt from public disclosure because the criminal investigation is ongoing.”
“That sounds memorized.”
“It was. Rudkowski suggested it, so I’d have a reply if you had the gall to contact me again.”
Drex spat out an expletive, but he forced himself to remain calm. Being overbearing wasn’t going to work on Gray, who had been cowed by pressure coming at him from all sides. At any other time, Drex would feel bad for having exploited the green officer’s initial willingness to help.
He said, “All right. I understand your reluctance to send it to me. Instead, send it to Agent Mallory. Remember him? You sent him—”
“Rudkowski said I wasn’t to feed him anything, either. Or somebody named Lewis. He said you three have formed a league of your own. That you’re impeding two homicide investigations. He also told me that this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled illegal and unethical stunts.”
Drex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Will you at least read through that report, and then let me ask you some questions pertaining to it?”
“I. Can’t. Talk. To. You.”
“I’m not asking you to talk. A simple yes or no. In fact, you don’t even have to speak. You could cough. Once for yes, twice for no.”
“Rudkowski said you’d turn it into a game of some kind or another.”
“I’ll limit it to one question. One. That’s all. Will you do that much?”
“Sorry, no.”
“Lives are at risk, Deputy Gray.”
“Rudkowski told me you’d say that, too. He said you’re—”
“I’m…?”
“Delusional.”
“Do you think so?” The deputy remained silent. Drex said, “I suppose you were also instructed to pass along this phone number if I called, so Rudkowski can use it to locate me.”
Drex heard him swallow hard. “I’m sorry, Easton,” he said and hung up.
“Michael Mallory?”
Mike was in the process of trying to hack the police report on last night’s murder of Sara Barker. He looked up, expecting to see someone on the hospital staff. Instead, facing h
im were two uniformed sheriff’s deputies, one of each gender.
He closed his laptop. “That’s me.”
“We’d like to ask you some questions.”
“Check with detectives Locke and Menundez, Charleston PD. They know all about it. The man attacked last night at Waterfront is my friend. I have their permission to keep vigil.”
“Maybe. But it was an FBI Agent Rudkowski who told us where to start looking for you.”
Mike didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, you found me.”
