“Congratulations.”
“We're pretty happy about it.” His smile faded. “So I'm calling in debts. You could have gotten eliminated if I hadn't given you a place to hide when they put out word of the sanction. You owe me, Judd.”
“What makes you think that means anything to me?”
“Like I said, I know you.”
Judd shook his head. “No, you don't.”
“Elena said that you once threatened to take her out if she got me into trouble.”
“Threats are easy.”
“And you didn't mean it?”
Yes, he'd meant it. He didn't permit himself to become close to many people, but Galen had barged into his life and made himself his friend. “Maybe.”
“That was hard to say, wasn't it?”
Judd smiled faintly. “You've always insisted on thinking the best of me. Why? Do you hate to admit you're wrong?”
“Probably. It would be a great blow to my self-esteem. You should be glad I don't believe you're the bastard Elena thinks you are. I don't think you'd have sold us out for the money.”
“But I did sell you out.”
“Not really.” He paused. “If you had, I'd have made sure that you didn't survive to paint any more pretty pictures.” Galen finished his coffee and stood up. He pulled a large manila envelope from his jacket pocket and dropped it on the coffee table. “A dossier on Alex Graham. I thought you might want to look it over. Now I'll get out of here and leave you to think about the proposition.”
“I've already turned it down.”
“But that was before I appealed to your gentler side.” He started for the door and then stopped and gazed at the painting on the easel. It was of a slim, bearded man in Renaissance dress stepping out from behind a curtain. “That's really very good. His expression is . . . exceptional. It's mocking yet . . .” He thought about it. “Haunted.”
“But then, we're all haunted by something, aren't we?”
“And there's a tension. . . . He looks lethal. Who is he supposed to be?”
Judd shrugged. “No one in particular. I just woke up one morning and started to paint him.”
Galen was still studying it and suddenly snapped his fingers. “He's an assassin, a Renaissance assassin.”
“Is he?”
“Isn't he?”
“I suppose he could be.” He smiled faintly. “But I assure you I had no intention of creating a self-portrait.”
“Remarkable . . .” Galen headed for the door. “Call me.”
Judd picked up his paintbrush as the door closed behind Galen. He wouldn't call him. Even if Arapahoe Junction weren't involved, getting mixed up with a job like this would be a mistake. He was no bodyguard, and the last thing he wanted to do was try to protect this woman. He was having enough trouble protecting himself. There was no way he'd let himself be persuaded by sentiment.
Besides, he wanted to finish this painting. It had been driving him since he'd first started it last week. He didn't need any interruptions.
He bent over the easel.
More shadow in the cloak.
More richness in the velvet of the doublet.
More torment in the face of the assassin.
Galen waited until he had crossed the state line into Massachusetts before he dialed Logan.
“I've found Morgan and made the offer,” he said as soon as he reached Logan. “It's a possible.”
“You're sure he's the right man? He may be more dangerous than our shooter.”
“Almost certainly. That's why you need him.”
“He's a loose cannon.” Logan paused. “I never questioned you before when you told me he'd had a raw deal. But I'm questioning you now. There's a hell of a lot at stake. The word is that he disobeyed orders and almost caused a diplomatic incident. That the sanction on that North Korean general was canceled and he went ahead and did it anyway.”
“It wasn't canceled. Just deemed a mistake after the fact.”
“So he claimed.”
“And I believe him. He did what he was ordered to do, what the United States government trained him to do.” He added wearily, “My God, I'm sick to death of all this hypocrisy. They can't have it both ways. The military picks up kids with potential and gives them a bunch of brainwashing about patriotism and duty and then sends them out to kill. If they have a good eye and steady nerves, they may even put them in the Airborne Rangers like they did Morgan. They taught him how to kill and blow up everything in sight and praised him for it. When he proved to be exceptional, they upped the ante and sent him alone behind enemy lines in the Middle East to take out the enemy. Do you know how many terrorists he's killed in these last years? But exceptional also means expendable. He became a little hot, so the CIA picked him up for their dirty tricks and the cycle began again.”