Free Stalemate by Iris Johansen Page B

know that.
    She just had to hope that Joe didn't turn on the light.
    Chapter 5.
    She got a call from Galen when she was boarding the private jet at the Atlanta airport.
    "Do you have a minute, luv?" he asked. "I need to talk to you."
    "I have time. You've found out something?"
    "Not as much as I'd like. Enough to make me uneasy."
    "You? Uneasy? It takes a lot to rattle you."
    "I'm not rattled. Don't insult me. I'm merely a bit troubled."
    "And what about Montalvo made you troubled? We all knew he was bad news."
    "We didn't know that there was a connection with Ramon Diaz."
    "Diaz...the name's familiar, but I can't--"
    "Colombian drug lord. Scum of the earth. Very powerful. He controls half the politicians in the government."
    "And Montalvo is his buddy?"
    "I don't know. Digging for information about Montalvo is a study in frustration. I need to go down there and do the job myself."
    "No," she said sharply. "That's not what I asked. I want you to stay home and do any digging long-distance."
    "I may have sounded like a hausfrau yesterday, but I still do my job, Eve. Long distance isn't cutting it."
    "What did you find out?"
    "I think he's forty-two and was born in a village in the south. I can't trace his parents yet. As far as I know, he could have been hatched. The next info places him with the rebels when he was in his twenties. Very good. Very lethal. That's all until he emerges years later as this weapons guru."
    "And Diaz?"
    "I don't know. My informant says it's only a whisper, not a fact. But that whisper keeps repeating over and over."
    "Maybe it's like the telephone game. It starts out as one thing and ends up completely different."
    "Maybe. But if there's any connection at all you want to get as far away as possible from him. Diaz shoots priests because they preach against growing coca. I don't know how nasty Montalvo operates, but if he works with Diaz, he's bound to be an ugly customer."
    "A whisper."
    Galen was silent a moment. "And you don't want to hear that whisper, do you? Why not?"
    "I'm listening."
    "I can hardly hear you with all that background noise. Where are you?"
    "I need to hang up anyway. Call me if you hear anything concrete." She was climbing the steps of the jet. "But don't you leave Elena and Elspeth. I don't need the information that badly."
    "You sounded fairly urgent before. What's different?"
    The difference was that bad or good, she was going to find out for herself. "Thanks for trying, Galen."
    "I don't try, I do. You know that or you wouldn't have called me in the first place. I'll get back to you when I know more. Good-bye, Eve."
    "Good-bye, Galen. Remember what I--"
    He was gone. Dammit, she'd unleashed Galen's boundless curiosity, and coupled with his pride in his profession, she'd never be able to call him off until he was satisfied.
    The pilot came out of the cockpit. "We need to take off, Ms. Duncan."
    "Fine." She settled in a seat and fastened her seat belt. It wasn't fine. In a matter of hours Joe would be home and getting the note she had left. Galen might decide to leave his family and go to Colombia and she was on her way to a man who was not only a criminal in his own right, but hobnobbed with scum like Diaz.
    No, nothing was fine at this particular moment.
    The note was propped up on the coffee table where Joe couldn't miss it.
    He muttered a curse as he tore it open.
    Joe,
    I had to do it. I'm on my way to Montalvo. Don't come after me. It will be much riskier for both of us if you're on the scene. Montalvo doesn't want to hurt me. He needs me. I won't answer my phone for a while but I'll keep in touch. Just don't come after me. Please.
    I can see you now, angry and frustrated as you read this. You're thinking I'm stupid and blind and you're asking yourself why I fell for the line he gave me. I fought it but in the end I couldn't do anything else.
    He promised me Bonnie.
    I love you.

Eve
    Shit.
    Joe's hand slowly crushed the note. He wanted to strike out, to crush more than