No One to Trust - Iris Johansen [52]
“I like money too.”
“But you’re an honest man in your way. Bad for you, good for me.”
Manero sighed. “Double?”
“Double.”
“Give me the background info.”
“You know about Logan. Paul Russell buried the paperwork on this place. Sam Destin referred him to me. Destin lives in New Orleans. Russell’s home base is San Francisco. Destin won’t be difficult to find, but Russell’s in trouble with the IRS and he floats around. You can usually reach him through his mother, Clara Russell. She works for Macy’s.”
“Right. I’m on it.”
“Thanks, Manero.” He hung up.
Shit. He had liked Carmichael. Galen had warned him to get out of South America when Carmichael dropped them in Medellín. Why the hell had he settled in Rio? He should have—Stop thinking about him. Carmichael had known what he was getting into when he took the job. He had realized how powerful Chavez was in South America and had made a mistake and paid for it. This wasn’t the time for Galen to dwell on Carmichael’s mistakes. He had to be sure not to make any of his own.
Time was running out.
It might have run out already.
“Problems?”
He turned to see Elena standing in the doorway. “Not yet.” He stood up. “Come and help me make dinner. Barry’s deserted me since Dominic’s been teaching him to play that keyboard. Just can’t get reliable help these days.”
“You’re holding something back.”
“Carmichael’s dead, presumably killed by Gomez.” He started for the kitchen. “But he didn’t know anything important. We’re still safe.”
“Chavez?”
“Still in Colombia. Like this apron? Judd bought it in town.” He tied on a gaudy green apron with dancing red chili peppers wearing ballet tutus and blue tennis shoes. “He thinks I won’t wear it.”
“It’s perfectly ridiculous.”
“Yep, but I don’t feel threatened. My masculinity overcomes any challenge. Besides, it makes me smile.” He took out a frying pan. “I need a smile now. I liked Carmichael.”
“I’m sorry. Was he a good friend?”
“No. But I’d known him for a long time.”
She was silent a moment. “He’s dead because of me.”
“He’s dead because he didn’t get the hell out of Dodge. You shouldn’t feel guilty.”
“I do feel guilty.” She stared directly into his eyes. “But it wouldn’t stop me from doing it again. I can’t worry about anyone but Barry. I can’t let anything else matter.”
“You’re not talking about Carmichael. I scared you last night, didn’t I? I knew I would.” He got a paring knife out of the drawer. “Get those red potatoes out of the bin, will you?”
“Are you listening to me?”
“Of course I am. You’re scared you may feel something for me and you’re warning me that you might have to sacrifice me on Barry’s altar.” He got the potatoes himself. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve known that all along. We’ll get through it. Barry has the edge, but give me another six months and you’ll be surprised what inroads I’ll make.”
“Galen, I don’t want—”
“You’re going to say we shouldn’t sleep together again. Don’t be hasty. You like sex these days. You like me. I won’t be discouraged no matter how far you distance yourself, so we might as well enjoy. Right?”
“Wrong.”
“Okay, I’ll compromise. Just until we hear Chavez is on the move.”
“It’s not fair.”
“You’re worried about my tender feelings?” He grinned. “No problem. Maybe I’ll get tired of you. You know how restless I am.”
She was silent for a moment and then smiled with an effort. “You really do look ridiculous in that apron.”
“Just for that you can peel the potatoes.” He handed her the paring knife. “Sit over there at the table where I can watch you.”
“You don’t trust me to do it right?”
“It’s not that,” he said quietly. “It just makes me feel good to look over and see you. It … warms me.”
“Damn you, Galen.”
“Don’t get all misty. Can’t help it. My mum always said I was an optimist who—oops.”
“Oops, indeed.”
“It’s going to be difficult not relying on old Mum.”
“Who knew you were an optimist.”
He nodded. “And that I believed in enjoying the moment. So sit over there and let me enjoy this one. Okay?”
She gazed at him