CHAPTER SEVEN
Tom rested his feet on the dash as Ilse drove them back through the city to the other side of town in the direction of HQ. She wasn't talking now, but watched the road with a keen, attentive eye. He valued that about her—she wasn't a chatterbox like some women he knew. His ex-wife, for instance. Then again... most men talked too much too. The whole damn species had a motor-mouth problem.
Not the least of which belonged to the man on the other side of the connected line.
“Damn it, Tommy,” Rudiger's far-too-dramatic voice called into the phone. “It's the c***k of dawn, you hoodlum!”
“It's almost noon, Rudy,” Sawyer replied, his eyes hooded. He leaned back, relaxed. Despite the name calling and the feigned offense, he knew Rudiger wasn't really angry. He wasn't sure the big
