Color of Blood(69)

“What do you think I should do?”

Silence.

“Dennis?”

Silence.

“I can help you in a couple of ways,” he said. Judy noticed that his voice and demeanor altered slightly as he spoke. His shoulders stiffened, and he seemed more clinical, like he was discussing options for a medical procedure.

“I think I can help you find the snitch in the WA office,” he said. “The Agency is always trying to find moles and dig them out of stations we have throughout the world. I’m not in counterintelligence, but I’ve worked on these efforts before, albeit peripherally. What I mean is that discovering a mole is painstaking but not impossible. I’m certain we can pull this off. Once we find the mole, you’ll be home free.”

“You think so?” she said. “Truthfully?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know anyone besides me in the AFP,” she said. “And unless I misunderstood your position in the CIA, you don’t investigate criminal gangs.”

“Well, you’re going to do all that police work,” he said. “This gang you’re dealing with will never suspect that you’re turning the tables on them. But it has to be done quickly. How long until Simon returns from vacation?”

“About a fortnight.”

“What’s that, two weeks?”

“Yes,” she said.

Judy considered Dennis’s offer, and while she was thrilled to feel like she was back in control of her life, she could not avoid the gnawing implausibility of this Yank’s self-appointed powers.

“Dennis, you don’t think I should just reach out to one of the blokes I’ve worked with back east?”

“No; I wouldn’t, not now. But then again, if you feel strongly, you should do it. I’m just thinking of you and Simon. There’s something that really bothers me about a gang kidnapping a policeman and cutting off her toe.”

“A policewoman: and it was only the tip of my toe,” Judy said defensively. “Not my whole toe.”

“Of course: not your entire toe.”

Dennis reached over and petted the top of her left hand. At first she thought it was a condescending gesture, but when he left his hand there, she felt comforted.

He pulled it away.

“Please put it back,” she said.

He put his hand back on her hand and curled his fingers around the edges of her palm.

She looked into his blue eyes.

“Thank you for your help, Dennis,” she said. “I can’t tell you how lonely and desperate I’ve been.”

“You look exhausted,” he said.

Silence.

“Dennis, can I ask you something that’s going to sound worse than it is?”

He wrinkled his forehead nervously. “I guess so.”

“Can I spend the night in your hotel room?”

“Um, sure.”

“Do you have a suite? With a couch?”

“Yes, I do actually.”

“Can I sleep on the couch? For the last week I’ve been all alone staying in the big house. They know where I live. Every time I look at the front entrance, I can remember the sickly smell of that stuff they used to put me out. I sleep with my service pistol under my pillow. I’m scared and lonely. One night—even on a couch—in pure safety would be such a relief for me.”

“Of course, Judy; I can use the couch. You sleep in the bed.”

On the way to the elevator, they argued loudly about who was sleeping where.

Finally Dennis raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’ll take the couch then.” The elevator hummed as it moved upward.

“Fine.”

Dennis let her in the room, and they stood around awkwardly.

“Do you want a T-shirt or something to sleep in?” Dennis said. “I don’t have any pajamas, or I’d give them to you.”

“Yes, a T-shirt would be lovely,” she said.

He handed her a white cotton tee. He told her that while she was changing in the bathroom, he was going to change in the main room.

“I sleep in an old T-shirt and gym shorts,” he said.

“Whatever you normally do is fine, Dennis.”

He folded his clothes and tried to remain calm. He was determined not to act boorish, but the situation had an overarching sense of sexual tension.

Perhaps that was simply my tension, he thought. He was always slightly uncomfortable around women, anyway. Hell, Martha was the one who pursued him years ago, when they started dating.

Dennis had changed into his old gray Georgetown University T-shirt and faded navy-blue gym shorts. He sat on the bed waiting for her to come out of the bathroom.

As an afterthought, Dennis stood up and pulled the comforter off his bed and put it on the couch for Judy to use.

The door finally opened, and she came out with her folded clothes in one hand, wearing the white cotton T-shirt down to the top of her thighs. On top of her clothes she had stacked her bra.

“How do I look?” she said, mock modeling the T-shirt. As she lifted her arms, the cloth rode up, and he could see the edge of her white underwear.

“You look fine,” he said. “Very dignified.”

“I used your toothpaste, if you don’t mind.”