Color of Blood(68)

“It’s these Agency phones. They encrypt and then route to satellites over Antarctica, for all I know.”

“It’s half-past nine at night.”

“I just got to the hotel about twenty minutes ago,” he said. “I should have called earlier, but the trip was a last-minute thing.”

“I suppose I could stop by the hotel.”

“I’d love to see you, Judy,” he said. “If not tonight, maybe tomorrow?”

“I can be there in thirty minutes. I need to put my face on first.”

“Your face?”

“Nothing, Dennis. See you in thirty minutes. I’m glad you called.”

***

She saw him hunched over the mahogany bar, looking down at a large poster of some sort.

“Judy!” he said, standing up. “It’s great to see you.”

He threw his arms around her and hugged tightly.

Judy rested her left cheek against his chest and suddenly felt like she was going to cry. She closed her eyes and swallowed, trying to regain her composure. The warmth, the sense of protection and physical intimacy were too much, and she choked.

Dennis released her and held her at arm’s length.

“Judy, are you crying?” he said.

She quickly wiped the tears and looked away.

“I’m embarrassed,” she said, swallowing hard. “Please stop looking at me.”

Dennis did as he was told and looked away at the bottles behind the bar. He let his hands fall to his side.

“I bet my mascara is smeared,” she said. “Is it?”

Dennis looked at her face and noticed how frail and exhausted she appeared. Her eyes were pink and puffy, and the mascara on her left eyelid had a small, black diagonal stripe. He reached out with his right thumb and gently brushed it twice so that it disappeared.

“What an entrance,” she said quietly. “I feel so stupid.”

“Let’s sit down,” Dennis said. He picked up his drink and the large, unfolded map and moved to a high-top table in the bar.

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Yes, please,” she said. “What’s a strong drink? I need a strong drink.”

“Do you want a gin and tonic?”

“Sure. I’ll have one of those.”

Dennis ordered her drink.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“No, I can’t eat right now. Not hungry. Thanks.”

While they waited for her drink, Dennis sat quietly. He was shocked by her appearance. She was thin and haggard. Her facial muscles pulled the skin tight against her cheekbones; her forehead had two horizontal furrows that ran the width of her hairline. She nervously bit the inside of her bottom lip; he could see her repeatedly grabbing the skin between her teeth and releasing it.

She stared at the large, thick paper document Dennis had placed on the seat of an open chair next to her.

“What are you doing with a map?” she said. “I’m trying to change the subject.”

Dennis smiled. She made an attempt at a smile.

“Well, I can tell you about the map later. Do you feel like you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Judy considered his question for a moment and then took a quick visual sweep of the bar.

An older couple in their sixties sat at another high-top table nearby; an Asian male sat at the other end of the bar toying with his phone. A group of young men—business travelers, she guessed by their dress and volume of banter—sat at a large couch and coffee table on the other side of the bar. The bartender was fixing Judy’s drink while he chatted up the waitress at the service bar.

“So?” he said.

“I just need someone to talk to about my problem,” she said. “I don’t need you to do anything except hear me out. I’ve no one to talk to, and you’ll see why in a moment. Is that all right?”

“Of course,” he said. “Go right ahead.”

Judy talked for forty-five minutes, and Dennis only interrupted three times to ask questions. As Judy talked, she grew more animated until, finally exhausted, she stopped. She had barely touched her gin and tonic, preferring instead to stir it relentlessly during her explanation. Now she drank most of it in several large gulps.

“I’m confused about one thing, Judy,” Dennis said. “Actually, I’m confused about a lot of things you just told me, but there’s one piece I’m especially having trouble with.”

“What’s that?” she said.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“What about me?”

“Why you?”

“Why did they come after me?”

“Yes.”

“Dennis, I haven’t the faintest bloody idea,” she yelled. Instinctively, she stooped her shoulders and nervously looked around the bar. Alone for the past week with her own convoluted and increasingly desperate thinking, she found herself exploding with emotion.

“That seems odd to me,” he said slowly.

“Only that seems odd to you?”

“No, of course the whole thing sounds preposterous,” he said.

Silence settled over them. Judy suddenly felt drained and began to physically wilt; her back bowed as she rested her elbows on the .