Knox let the phone ring through the first buzz, the second, the third. I watched his thumb. Then he pressed it, and Bishop's warm voice filled the cab of the truck.
"Son. Where are you? I think we need to talk about the safe."
Knox's face went smooth. I'd seen him do it before, in the office, in the lot. A door locking from the inside.
"I'm on my way back. Ten minutes."
"Good. Don't worry, nothing's missing." A pause, gentle as a hand on a shoulder. "Come alone, if you can. Some things are better said between two old men and a kid who should know better."
The line clicked off.
I turned in my seat. "You can't go."
"I'm going."
"He knows about the tape, Knox. He knows we're watching him."
"Maybe." He pulled into the left lane without signaling. "And maybe he thinks I'm watching Rook
