Page 67 of Outfox


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“By bending over backward to cooperate. He surrendered his work computer for Rudkowski’s flunkies to tear into.”

“There’s nothing on it relating to any of this.”

“No, but Rudkowski threatened to get a search warrant for his apartment and to seize everything it in, from roof to basement.”

Drex steepled his fingers and tapped them against his forehead. “He can’t get a warrant based on a hunch. A judge would ask for cause, and Rudkowski doesn’t have it.”

“He would cite our history. Your obsession. Our loyalty to you. The—”

“Okay, okay. It’s worrisome, but Mike will take care of it.”

“He already has. When we first heard that the sleeping giant had been awakened by that deputy down in Florida, Mike took the precaution of emptying everything off his hard drives, then destroyed them.”

“What about you?”

“Rudkowski considers me less of a problem than Mike. I’m not the computer genius. But immediately after Mike tipped me, I got out of Dodge before Rudkowski could ambush me, too. I took a week’s worth of personal days.”

“With what excuse?”

“Hemorrhoidectomy.”

“You have hemorrhoids?”

“That’s why I used it. My superiors may be skeptical, but who’s going to ask to see proof of the necessity?”

Drex chuckled again.

“It’s still no laughing matter,” Gif said. “I left my workspace and apartment clean as a whistle. They can turn them inside out and won’t find anything. But as long as you and I are off the grid, Rudkowski is going to plow on.”

“No doubt.”

Gif hesitated, then said, “You could still put in a call to him—”

“No.”

“Okay then, skip Rudkowski and alert one of his higher-ups.”

“Who would either throw it back to Rudkowski or send someone else down here to check it out, who would probably screw up, then we’d be blown, and Jasper would get away.”

“If you explained the delicacy of the situation—”

“Not doing it, Gif. Not yet.”

Gif relented. “All right. But please stop pricking with Rudkowski. Because whether we succeed or fail at getting Ford, Rudkowski isn’t going to forget your making him look foolish. He doesn’t think your pranks are funny.” He paused for effect. “What really has Mike and me worried—”

“We’re back to that?”

“We’re afraid that one of these days, one of your inside jokes is going to blow up in your face.”

Sobered by his friend’s tone, Drex thoughtfully scraped his thumb across his stubbled chin, repeating quietly, “One of these days.”

“Or has one already backfired?”

When Gif looked at someone the way he was looking at Drex now, it cut through bullshit like a cleaver. He was referring to Talia, of course. Drex answered as truthfully as he could. “I don’t know.”

“I think you do.”

Drex faced forward and laid his head against the headrest, inwardly cursing Gif and his damn uncanny ability to read people.

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