The Kill Zone Read Online Free Page B

He touched the scar on his side, where he had lost a kidney and nearly his life. Kurshin was dead. The era was gone.
    He took a long, hot shower and when he had shaved he came back to the bedroom, where Kathleen had laid out a pair of gray slacks, blue blazer, white shirt and club tie. Old-fashioned, but utilitarian; the clothes had become his new uniform.
    Downstairs Kathleen was seated at the kitchen counter, the television on Good Morning America , reading the morning paper with her coffee. Her cheeks were rosy from outside, and without makeup, her hair undone she looked fresh.
    â€œGood morning, darling,” she said, looking up. “Sleep well?”
    â€œLike I was hit over the head.” McGarvey poured a cup of coffee and, standing on the opposite side of the counter from his wife, reached over and gave her a kiss. “How about you?”
    â€œMust have been something in the water. I slept like I was dead.” She
smiled warmly. “But then making love with you always does that to me.”
    â€œMaybe I should get a patent.”
    She chuckled at the back of her throat. “Do you want some breakfast?”
    McGarvey glanced at his watch. It was already coming up on eight. He shook his head. “Dick will be here in a couple of minutes, and it’s going to be a heavy day.” He shrugged. “Mondays. How about you?”
    â€œI have some shopping to do, and Elizabeth and I are having lunch somewhere downtown, if she can get free. She’s supposed to call. At two I have a Red Cross executive board meeting, and I’m supposed to call Sally about the Beaux Arts Ball. Oh, and I’m interviewing two housekeepers, and the carpenters are supposed to start on your study this morning.”
    He’d forgotten about that. Before he’d moved back the room had been a catchall, a place to iron, and sew on a button, a place for the odd cardboard box. With his Voltaire studies, the room had become a serious workplace. Katy had ordered built-in bookcases, recessed lighting, a new desk and computer station, and a cabinet with long shallow drawers to store maps and large manuscripts flat. “How long’s that going to take?”
    â€œA few days. They promised they’d be done by Friday at the latest.”
    â€œNo chintz.”
    â€œNo chintz,” she agreed. “Saturday night we’re having the party, so don’t forget.”
    They were having the former DCI Roland Murphy and his wife over for cocktails and a buffet supper. It was supposed to be a surprise party for him. She’d invited some of his old friends from the other law enforcement and intelligence agencies in town, a couple of generals from the Pentagon and a few congressmen from the Hill. Inappropriate because of the upcoming hearings? He’d wondered about it, but she didn’t think that it was a problem, and she knew about things like that.
    â€œYou worry too much,” she said, reading his mind. “Anyway, is there anything you should lock up in your study?”
    â€œVoltaire is in the safe, and there’re no Agency files.”
    â€œGuns, bombs, missiles?”
    He laughed and shook his head. Her sense of humor had come back since they were remarried. She wasn’t so desperate to be formal and proper like she used to be.
    â€œSeriously, where’s your pistol?”
    â€œOne is upstairs under my side of the bed, one’s out in the garage—” He opened his coat and turned to reveal the quick draw holster at the small of his back. “And this one.”

    â€œSorry I asked.” She was suddenly serious. But it was something that she had to deal with if they were going to be together. They had discussed the situation more than once. It’s what I do, he’d told her, and she’d given him the same uncertain look then as she was giving him now. But she was trying.
    The doorbell rang. “You okay, Katy?”
    â€œI’m fine.