Entman left through an inner door and King was stunned by his good luck. He called it that even while experience and judgment shrieked warnings. This was too pat—too easy. Something was phony in the setup.
But he didn't even have to fight what common sense was telling him. He was too busy opening the safe, spreading the data out on the desktop, and using a small camera he carried in the side pocket of his jacket.
Then, he put the data back in the safe and felt the hot, excitement surge up through his body.
"I'm afraid I owe you a drink," Entman said ruefully.
"You were right. When I got back to the office, he was gone."
Brent Taber grinned, but only with his mouth—his eyes remained somber and weary. "The data was back in the safe?"
"Right where I put it. I'll swear it hadn't been moved."
"He was photographing it thirty seconds after you left."
"But how can you be sure?"