Wolfe’s lips tip into a smug grin. “I’m pretty good with computers.”
“And that means?” he asks impatiently.
“I put my articles and pictures on a USB stick, all personal or trackable data erased. Delivery happens via a courier who delivers to another courier. The second courier uses a designated dead drop, which then gets picked up by some unsuspecting intern at the ‘Gossip Grove’or whatever other magazine bought the scoop. In addition, I only accept cash payments, also via dead drops.”
Rust’s eyes are filled with question marks. All the tech talk seems to have put him off asking for any more details.
“Rex asking you to kill Rust is a big deal, but right now it’s your word against his. That ain’t good enough for any judge,” I point out.
“I have proof!” Wolfe cries.
“Then you better convince me quickly. My screwdriver hand is getting itchy,” I threaten.
“Friends or not, I recognized early that Rex is an opportunist. I realized I might need a bargaining chip against him. He never suspected anything when I started recording our phone calls and made copies of our emails. Everything can be traced back to him. It’s all on my laptop and one external hard drive. I don’t keep copies anywhere else. Too dangerous.”
Wolfe glances at his messenger bag. “If you let me go, you can have the whole thing. All my gadgets. All my files. I’ll even help you put together a USB stick to giveto the police, so you won’t have to let them see the videos and pictures of your trip. But don’t try to trick me. The data is password protected and I’ll permanently unlock it for youafteryou free me.”
I massage my throbbing temples.
Revenge is within arm’s reach and if I pull this off, I’ll finally break free from Rex Dalton’s chains of abuse. Taking him down will help the other talents caught in his web, too. But if I don’t take this chance right now, it might be lost forever.
Glancing at Wolfe, I shudder. He’s a disgusting creature, and I don’t mean the piss and blood. I mean his character.
His greed. His selfishness. His complete lack of remorse. He hasn’t apologized once!
Making a deal with this weasel feels dirty, but for the moment, I need him.
I crouch in front of Wolfe, avoiding the puddle of bodily fluids. “If we let you go, you’ll give up your gear and footage, including the incriminating pictures of our road trip. And you’re gonna testify against your friend Rex Dalton.”
“You have my word.”
“That ain’t good enough,” Rust says decisively. “We want a taped confession, right now. You’ll tell the whole story again on video.”
“Sure! We can record it on my laptop. It’s got a good webcam,” Wolfe suggests.
I wince as I look over his meatball-studded chest. “Hate to say it, but we’re gonna have to clean him up a bit first.”
45
TALLY
With only hisupper body in the frame and a borrowed shirt from Rust, Wolfe looks presentable on camera. Nobody would guess that his hands are bound by a cable tie and his thighs have been repeatedly impaled by a screwdriver.
Like Wolfe promised, he repeats his statement for the camera. He ends with advising the victims of Dalton’s abuse to come forward with their testimonies, too. Cautiously, he adds he will be leaving the country for his own safety and tells law enforcement not to come looking for him.
Under my supervision, Wolfe transfers all relevant data, the recordings incriminating Rex, and his confession to a fresh USB stick from his bag. That’s the evidence we’ll give to the cops, claiming it was anonymously delivered to me.
The laptop with our pictures on it and Wolfe’s other gear, including his burner phone, is ours to do with as we please. We can’t let anybody see the evidence of our little crime spree, but destroying the devices is a problem for later.
I shut the laptop with a sigh, giving myself another temple massage. Listening to Wolfe list Rex’s crimes a second time has exhausted me to the bone. It’s a hot day, but I feel heavy and cold.
I stifle a yawn as I collect the devices from the dusty floor and sort them into Wolfe’s messenger bag. “Alright, we’re done here. Rust, take care of him.”
“About time! I did everything you asked. Now cut off this cable tie. It’s hurting my wrists!” Wolfe whines. “And stop waving that shotgun around you big hillbilly oaf!”
“You want me totake care of him?” Rust echoes, perplexed.
I look over my shoulder. “Yeah, get it over with. I wanna go back to the motel. A shower and some sleep sounds real good right about now.”
