After Gif left, Drex called Locke. He could tell the detective was in a moving vehicle. “Where are you?”
“Menundez and I have been called to the scene of a homicide.”
The way he said that was his way of signaling to Drex that he hadn’t told Menundez about their previous conversation. “That’s a boon to me,” he said.
“It’s not our investigation, but they wanted us to take a look, see if there may be a connection between this homicide and ours last night.”
“Other than gender of the victim?”
“Yes. Something that would indicate the same perp.”
“I already know it’s the same perp. If you find evidence of it, call me immediately.”
“I’ll see how it goes.”
It became plain that Locke wasn’t going to talk where Menundez could overhear. Drex guessed it was as much for the younger man’s protection as for Locke’s own. Even though the honorable gesture was working against Drex right now, he admired the detective for not wishing to compromise a junior partner.
“All right. I’m reading you. But when you can give me more details—”
“No promises.”
“Understood. But as a show of faith, I’ll text you my phone number and our current location.”
“How long will you be there?”
“Till we’re not.”
“How long will the phone number be good?”
“Till I don’t answer.”
“I’ve got to go,” Locke said. “We’re here.”
The detective clicked off, and so did Drex. He sent the promised text immediately. Then, tapping the phone against his chin in frustration, he related to Talia and Mike what Locke had told him.
“Somebody might overlook a vital link. Dammit.” He reached for the door handle and lifted it.
“Drex?” Talia exclaimed.
“I can’t just sit here and do nothing,” he said.
“You’ve got to, Drex,” Mike said. “If you’re caught intruding, you’ll be shut down. Gif and me, too. Locke will be hung out to dry, because Rudkowski will know it was him who tipped you.”
“I’m not going to let Locke catch the flak.”
“That won’t be your call. Do you want to cost him his job?”
Gripped by indecision, he kept the car door open but didn’t get out. He looked at Talia, who said, “Mike is right.” He cast a look over his shoulder at Mike, whose expression was more baleful than usual. Drex conceded the wisdom of discretion. “Okay, but I can’t just sit. I’ll keep to this parking lot. Stretch my legs. Clear my head.”
He flipped up the hood of his rain jacket and got out.
With the intention of joining him, Talia reached for the driver’s door handle, but from the back seat, Mike said, “Give him a few. He’ll be all right. He gets like this.”
She settled back into her seat. “It pains him, doesn’t it? What he does.”
“It’s been known to. When it does, we—Gif and I—keep our distance, let him work through it. He eventually comes out of it.”
“The Drex Easton I met—good Lord. It was a week ago today,” she said, amazed by how much longer it seemed that he had been in her life. “That Drex was laid back and witty.”