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“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 up to you, is it?” Rudkowski marched to within a few feet of them, then stepped aside and motioned to the man Drex didn’t know. “Read him his rights.”
The man came forward, turned Drex around, and placed a pair of flex cuffs on his wrists as he Mirandized him.
“What are you doing?” Talia pushed past the stranger and confronted Rudkowski. “What is wrong with you?” She shoved him in the chest with both hands. “Jasper gave him no choice. He was about to kill me and would have if Drex hadn’t acted. Menundez, tell him. If you and Drex hadn’t—”
“I know all of that,” Rudkowski said snidely. “I’m arresting him for obstruction of justice, tampering with—”
“Oh, for godsake!”
“—evidence, and impersonation of a federal agent.”
“That’s ridiculous. He only resigned in order to—”
“He didn’t resign from anything,” Rudkowski said. “That badge he so theatrically surrendered, no doubt to impress you with his self-sacrifice, is counterfeit. It will be submitted as evidence at his trial.”
“Counterfeit?”
“Oh. Like you didn’t know,” he said with scorn.
She turned to Drex. “What is he talking about?”
Before Drex could speak, Rudkowski practically squealed, “He’s a phony. He and his merry band are imposters. They only profess to be FBI agents, flashing around fake badges and IDs whenever the mood strikes.”
