Outfox

by Sandra Brown

  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 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.”

  She rounded on Rudkowski, then looked at Locke and Menundez.

  Locke cleared his throat. “He, uh, had us convinced, too. Until Rudkowski told us different.”

  Rudkowski said, “I assumed you knew, Mrs. Ford. Which is why I came down so hard on you. I thought you’d gone along with him, never mind that he’s a criminal. Most women do.”

  “‘Criminal’ is a pretty harsh word,” Locke said.

  “How about lawbreaker?” Rudkowski said. “Use whatever word you like. They all mean the same thing. He commits crimes. And since he’s a repeat offender, and has already served time for the same offense, he won’t get off so lightly this time. I’m going for the maximum sentence.”

  To Drex, it seemed an eternity that Talia stared at Rudkowski, unmoving, before she came slowly around to him. The instant she looked into his face, she saw the truth engraved there. Her disillusionment caused his heart to contract.

  Speaking low, he said, “Five years ago, I served eight months of a two-year sentence in federal prison for impersonating an FBI agent. Mike and Gif got off on probation.”

  She placed her hand at the base of her throat, which already showed a bruise Jasper had inflicted. Drex knew he was bruising her almost as deeply now.

  “He’s run a great con,” Rudkowski said.

  Giving no regard to him, Drex said, “I used the badge, played the part, but never for self gain. Only as a means to capture Weston Graham.”

  In a faint voice, she said, “You never were with the FBI?”

  “Mike and Gif were until…” He hitched his chin toward Rudkowski. “They were with the bureau when I went to them and sought their help.”

  “Because they were corruptible,” Rudkowski said.

  “Because of their particular skills,” Drex said. “They assisted me—”

  “Covertly and illegally.”

  “—because they believed in what I was doing. After my release from prison, they left the bureau and started working with me.”

  “As accomplices,” Rudkowski said. “And by the way, the FBI was happy to be rid of them.”

  “Why don’t you shut the fuck up?” Menundez muttered.

  Talia seemed unaware of them. Her wounded gaze remained on Drex. “Is the doctorate another fake?”

  “No.”

  “Then why didn’t you just use it and join the FBI?”

  “Because I didn’t want to be fettered by procedure and bureaucracy.”

  “It was easier just to act the part?” she said.

  “Not easier. More efficacious.”

  “Efficacious.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Good word. A writer’s word. You certainly had gullible me fooled. Drex the writer. Drex the federal agent. Drex the good guy,” she finished huskily.

  “I’m the same man, Talia.”

  “The same con man,” Rudkowski said. “Let’s go.”

  The stoic stranger, whom Drex took to be another agent, nudged him forward. He went without protest, but as he came even with Talia, he stopped. “Talia—”

  “Anything you have to say, I don’t want to hear. I’m not listening to any more of your lies,” she said and turned her back to him.

  Epilogue

  Drex read the discreet sign on the office door, summoned his courage, and pushed it open. Talia was seated at a desk, looking into a computer monitor. She turned her head with a smile of greeting in place. Upon seeing him, it dissolved.

  He stepped into the office and closed the door.

  The space was smart yet inviting. Vintage, arte-deco travel posters in matte black frames gave the light gray walls modish splashes
of color. A Palladian window, virtually a wall in itself, overlooked a landscaped courtyard enclosed by ivy-covered brick walls, a burbling fountain in the center. The mix of chic and nostalgic created an environment that he would expect of her.

  Her plain white shirt looked anything but plain on her. Sunlight coming through the window backlit her hair, creating a halo of red and gold.

  She hadn’t stood up to welcome him, but, since she hadn’t yet picked up the crystal objet d’art on her desk and hurled it at him, he said, “I need help planning a trip.”

  “I only work with established clients.”

  “You came highly recommended.”

  “By whom?”

  “Elaine Conner.”

  Looking pained, her gaze dropped a fraction.

  He put his hands in his pants pockets and strolled over to one of the posters, studying the sleek lines of the artwork as he said, “I heard you escorted her body to Delaware.”

  “She stipulated in her will that she wanted to be buried there beside her husband.”

  “You saw to the dispersal of her estate to various charities.”

  “A while back, she had asked if I would be the executor. I agreed, of course, never guessing…”

  When she trailed off, Drex said, “May she rest in peace.”

  After a respectful silence, Talia curtly changed the subject. “I heard you pled guilty.”

  He turned away from the poster and looked at her. “Who’d you hear that from?”

  “Gif.”

  “He’s recovered. Almost like new.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said. “He stopped by to see me before going home to Lexington.”

  “Yeah? You two have a nice visit?”

  “Very nice. He apologized.”

  “For what?”

  She gave him a baleful look, which would have caused a less determined man to duck and run. He stayed.

  Her desk was a sheet of gray-tinted glass supported by an iron base. Black. The same color as the high heel that was angrily tapping up and down against the floor beneath her chair, where she sat with legs crossed, providing him a six-inch view of thigh above the hemline of her narrow, black skirt.

  “Where are you traveling to?”

  Her question drew his gaze up from the scenery underneath the desk to her stormy eyes. “Pardon?”

  “Where are you going on the trip that you came here to waste my time about?”

  “Waste your time?” He thumbed toward the door. “You’re open for business.”

  “To established clients.”

  “So you said.”

  She looked down at her wristwatch. Such a dainty wrist, with a sprinkling of golden freckles. “One of which is due here soon with his wife to discuss their African adventure.”

  “They haven’t gone yet?”

  “They had to postpone.”

  “Huh.”

  “So state your business, please.”

  “I told you. I’m planning—”

  “You can’t go on a trip!” she exclaimed, slapping her hand onto the glass desktop. “I know you were being sentenced today. Gif said—”

  “You talked to Gif more than once?”

  “He said you agreed to plead guilty if Rudkowski would lay off him and Mike.”

  He shrugged. “I was the corrupting influence. If not for me, they wouldn’t have run afoul of the law.”

  “Rudkowski reluctantly agreed not to touch them, but tacked on several more charges against you. Horse poop, Mike called them.”

  “You’ve talked to Mike, too?”

  “He said that with those additional indictments, you could face up to five years.”

  “I got two.”

  “Oh,” she said on a catch of breath. The starch went out of her posture. She looked down.

  “Suspended.”

  Her head snapped up. “What?”

  “Surprised me, too. Sent Rudkowski into orbit. The judge read the sentence, then suspended it because of extenuating circumstances.”

  “Which were?”

  “Rudkowski being an incompetent asshole. I’m putting words in the judge’s mouth, but that was the essence of it. Additionally, I had a lot of people who defended my questionable actions.”

  “Locke and Menundez, I’m sure.”

  “Them. Their chief. Plus the SAC in Columbia. People at my workplace in Lexington put in a good word for me.” He walked over to the desk and picked up the crystal formation, studying it from various angles, watching the rainbows it created as he turned it one way, then another. “What is this supposed to be?”

  “Nothing. Put it down. So the judge just let you off?”

  “Uh-hum. What really worked in my favor, what his honor found most compelling, was the affidavit you videotaped and sent to him.”

  Standing suddenly, she grabbed the objet from him and returned it to the desktop with a decisive thunk. “You were never supposed to know about that! Mike swore to me that—”

  “Mike swore. Gif said. Just how often do you and those two busybodies put your heads together? What all have you talked about?”

  “For one thing, your work.”

  “Work?”

  “Foolish me. Because of the indictments against you, I was worried that you might be fired from your job. I wondered if you were financially able to pay your legal fees. As it turns out, my concern was misplaced.”

  “Which one of the blabbermouths told you?”

  “You sold a patent when you were twenty years old? Twenty? For millions?”

  “I didn’t do anything for it. It fell into my lap. Literally. When I was sorting through Dad’s stuff after he died, I upended a drawer, and all these engineering drawings fell out. Scores of them. I didn’t even know what they were, had to ask someone. He had designed a thingamajig that went on a doodad that would improve the performance of a piece of machinery.”

  “A piece of machinery essential to the construction and maintenance of the Alaskan pipeline. And about a hundred other industries. Shipping. Forestry. Earth moving.”

  “I didn’t know that when I filed the patent. I didn’t have a clue what Dad had been doing all those long, dark nights when he shut himself off in his bedroom. He was the engineer, not me. I never even made a prototype of the thing.”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “No. While I was still at Missoula, manufacturing companies started calling me, wanting to buy the patent. I negotiated for months and sold to the highest bidder. To this day, I’m unclear as to what the gizmo does.” He raised his hands. “Wasn’t my field of interest. I carried on with what I wanted to do, got my doctorate, and went to work at the security company where I’m still employed.”

  “Coaching mega-conglomerates on how to screen potential employees so they don’t hire embezzlers, pirates, spies, and such.”

  “Every day a criminal thinks up a new way to be one. It’s a constant learning curve. I get paid for trying to outwit the outlaws. It’s a great gig. I love the work.”

  “A gig.” She placed her hands on her hips. “You’re a major shareholder in a company that has eight branches nationwide.”

  He was going to kill Mike and Gif. “I go to the office every day, eat lunch in the campus cafeteria, and, just like everybody else, take my two weeks’ vacation.”

  “Two weeks at a time. About six times a year.”

  “Every employee gets—”

  “Stop it, Drex.” She blew out a gust of breath in exasperation. “‘How much more inept and underachieving am I going to feel?’” she said, quoting him from the day they had met. “And to think I felt sorry for you, a struggling writer living in that ratty apartment.”

  “Well, if it makes you feel any better, the one in Lexington is about that ratty. I’ve been preoccupied for the past fifteen, twenty years.”

  Her annoyance plain, she gnawed her inner cheek. “Why couldn’t I find anything about you, the whiz kid, on the Internet?”

  “I filed the patent under an LLC
. Once it sold, the LLC was dissolved. I’ve conducted my other business behind blinds like that. I didn’t want my name floating around out there in case Weston Graham ever got wind of it.”

  She assimilated all that and seemed to find it a satisfactory answer. “Is impersonating a federal agent still your hobby?”

  “I was sternly admonished by the judge to give that up for good. But I was done with it anyway. Because he’s done. It’s over. Your words, Talia.”

  “What else don’t I know about you? Are there other surprises in store?”

  She was entitled to be angry. He wasn’t. But a man could only take so much before becoming riled. “No,” he said. “And I must say that you’re very well informed for someone who, the last time I saw you, told me that you didn’t want to hear anything I had to say, and, since then, hasn’t answered or responded to a single call. Or email. Or text. Nothing!” He ended on a shout.

  She matched it. “What would you have said?”

  “I would have asked you to forgive me.”

  “Never!”

  “Fine! Don’t forgive me. Will you fuck me?”

  Her lips parted. A soft breath puffed out.

  He backed down and lowered his volume. “Sorry. I’d be more romantic, but that takes more patience than I’ve got right now.” He moved aside the crystal thing so he could lean toward her.

  “I have no right to ask. I never did. You were married, and I was deceiving you with every word and deed. But any time I’ve been near you since I first saw you coming up the hatchway of that boat, I’ve wanted to claim you in a way that’s…hell, almost primitive. And I honestly don’t know how much longer I can stand here looking at you without acting on that impulse.”

  Later they would argue over who had moved first in order to get around the desk. After a brief but mad round of kissing and a wrestling match to pull out shirttails, unbutton plackets, get his knotted necktie over his head, and unhook her bra, they were against the wall, hands competing to cover the most bare skin in the least amount of time.

  “Is that courtyard public?” he asked.

  Reaching far to her right, Talia groped the surface of a small table and came up with a remote. She pressed a button, then dropped the device to the floor.