7
“I'm glad you enjoyed my chicken, Alex. Not that I expected anything else.” Galen stood up and started to clear the table. “I thought you deserved a good meal, considering Morgan is entirely lacking in that skill.”
“It was delicious.” She stood up and started to stack the dishes. “I'll help you wash up.”
“I usually leave that for Morgan. The drudgery factor is humbling, and God knows he needs it.”
Morgan's gaze was narrowed on Alex's face. “I'll pass tonight.” He stood up. “I believe she wants to do something besides wash dishes. I'll go scout around the grounds.”
He was too damn perceptive, she thought in frustration as she carried the plates into the kitchen.
Galen followed her and started putting dishes into the dishwasher. “Is he right?”
“Yes. Morgan says you're leaving in the morning.”
“Yep, but I'm not totally deserting you.”
“Morgan told me that too. But I'm going to have to rely principally on him. That makes me very uneasy.”
“It shouldn't. In many ways he's savvier than I am. Though I hate to admit it.” He paused. “Nah, scratch that. It's just that we've had experiences in different areas.”
She smiled reluctantly. It was difficult not to smile at Galen. Morgan was right, he was an original. “I don't care about his experiences. I care about his character. I can't read him.”
“And you don't trust him.”
“Dammit, he kills people.”
“True.”
“Isn't that enough to cause anyone to take a step back?”
“In your experience, has he killed anyone who didn't deserve killing?”
“That's not the point.”
“If it makes you feel better, he's not in the business any longer. He's retired. He took this job as a favor to me.”
“And what else could tempt him to return to the ‘business'?”
“I don't know. He's a bit of a puzzle at times.”
“My thought exactly. But I can't afford puzzles. I have to know—I have to trust him.”
“Then you'll have to make up your own mind.”
“But you trust him.”
He nodded. “But it's always been instinct. I'd rather have him in my corner than anyone except my wife.”
“And he said she wanted to cut his throat.”
Galen nodded. “Elena doesn't forgive and forget.”
“And she has something to forgive?”
“Oh, yes.”
“But you don't agree with her?”
“Not entirely.”
“You're not going to talk about it.”
“It wouldn't inspire you with confidence.” He started the dishwasher. “Suppose I fill you in on all I know about Judd's background instead?”
“I'll take whatever I can get.”
He started to wipe off the countertops. “Well, I guess I should start with the North Korea debacle. . . .”
The kitchen was clean and the dishwasher was humming through its cycle when he finished speaking. He gave her a puckish grin. “And that's all you'll get out of me. You can beat me. You can tear out my fingernails, but I won't—”
“Shut up, Galen.” She was trying to digest everything he'd told her. “I don't know much more than when I started about how he thinks, do I? You don't know anything else about him?”
“Let's see, he's mentioned he was an Air Force brat and grew up all over the world. He speaks six languages fluently. I guess going into the service was a logical step for him.” He turned to face her. “You're right, all this isn't going to help you. You're probably going to have to rely on instinct, like me.”
“That's scary.”
“It depends on the instinct.” He smiled. “I'm going to call Elena and then I'm going to bed. When Judd comes back, tell him I've spilled my guts to you. I wouldn't like him to think I'd go behind his back.”
She watched him leave the kitchen and then moved toward the front door. A cold blast of air struck her as she went out on the porch.
“You should put on a coat if you're going to be out here very long.” Morgan was moving down the walk toward her. “It's almost freezing.”
“I thought you might be lurking on the porch.”
“I don't lurk. I did what I told you I'd do. I needed to familiarize myself with the area.” He climbed the steps and opened the front door. “You never know when it might come in handy. Get inside. You're having problems with maintaining body temperature anyway.”
“Not anymore. I'm fine.” But the warmth of the room felt good as she went inside. “Galen told me to tell you that he spilled his guts to me.”
“Not a pretty phrase.” He took off his coat and hung it in the closet. “Not a great thing to do. But I expected you to squeeze it out of him.” He turned to face her. “He probably knew it wouldn't make any difference in the long run.”