Ellswyth blinked. “Not at all. I had no—”
“No? Then I must have been mistaken.” She slipped her arm through Andreas's. “I think it's time to circulate and then say our good night to the Prime Minister. You've got that visit to the school for the handicapped early tomorrow morning.” She gave Ellswyth a smile that made him forget his momentary embarrassment. “You'll excuse us?” She didn't wait for an answer as she gently nudged Andreas forward. “What the hell are you up to?” she murmured. “You have everyone in the room wondering what you said to Shepard.”
“Then they can keep on wondering.”
“Not me. I'm on the home team.”
“Maybe it's top secret.”
She searched his expression and then shook her head. “I don't think so.”
He should have expected both the curiosity and the perceptiveness. They knew each other so well. They had been friends and partners as well as lovers for many years. “No,” he said softly. “Drop it, Chelsea.”
She studied him and then shrugged. “I'll find out.” She turned her brilliant smile on the Prime Minister. “So good of you to honor us with your presence tonight. . . .”
9
Terre Haute
Morgan and Alex checked into a Motel 6 shortly before seven in the evening. They stopped at the convenience store on the corner for take-out sandwiches and toiletries before they went to their rooms.
“The rooms are adjoining,” Morgan said as he handed her the key. “Lock your front door and put a chair in front of it. We'll enter and exit through my room. I have to make a phone call. Take your shower and then come in and have something to eat.”
She nodded wearily. “Don't hold your breath. I have to wash all this ash out of my hair.”
“Need help?”
“I can do it. It will just take a while. Who are you calling?”
“I had Galen set up an operative here in Terre Haute to watch the motel. I have to tell him we're here.”
“Why is he watching our motel?”
“Because I'm not leaving you alone here.”
“You're damn right you're not.” She didn't like the sound of what Morgan had said, but she couldn't deal with it right now. She went into her room, shut the door, and locked it. She didn't move for a minute. After that puddle jumper from Des Moines, she felt as drained and lackluster as her appearance.
Well, she'd feel better after a shower—though she'd probably risk drowning, moving in and out of the spray to keep this blasted bandage from getting wet. She was glad Morgan hadn't been insistent about helping her. She didn't need that tension along with the hassle of dealing with her bum shoulder.
It took over an hour for her to shower and wash her hair, and she was more exhausted than ever by the time she finished. She wrapped a towel around herself, sank down in the chair by the desk, and closed her eyes. She'd just take a little time to rest. Not long. Perhaps only—
“Are you all right?”
Her lids flew open and she saw Morgan standing in the doorway of the adjoining room. “I'm fine. A little tired.” She tightened the towel around her body. “I'll get dressed and be with you in a minute. Will you set up my laptop?”
“No.” He crossed the room, unzipped her duffel, and pulled out his gray T-shirt she'd taken to using as nightwear. “You'll eat. We'll talk a little, make plans, and then you'll go to bed. You can get up at the break of dawn and hit the computer. But you rest first or you'll be no use to yourself or me.” He pulled her to her feet, stripped the towel off her, jerked the T-shirt over her head, and stretched it until he could manipulate both arms into the sleeves. “Hair.” He took the towel and started to dry it.
She took the towel away from him. “I can handle it.”
“I'm sure you can.” He turned. “Call if you need me. I'll see you in ten minutes.”
God, he was bossy. She was tempted to tell him to go to hell and dig out the computer herself and—
But he had known exactly what he was doing by striking just the right note of annoyance to send a corresponding surge of adrenaline through her. How long the energy would last she had no idea, but she'd better use it while she had it.
She quickly towel-dried her hair and strode into his room. “Okay, what next, Nero?”
He flinched. “I don't mind being compared to an emperor but not one who was off his noggin.” He gestured to the table. “Sit down and have a sandwich. You haven't had anything to eat since that layover in St. Louis.”
“I'm not hungry.” She sat down and picked up the tuna sandwich. “Or maybe I am. It looks pretty good.” She bit into it. “So talk. What do we do about Powers?”