Nine

 

The longer Morgan sat there listening to Trent Dragon’s ego spouting off, the more he realized that he needed a backup plan – a good one.

“I need to make a call,” he mumbled as he pushed back from the table and stood up.

Trent pointed to the desk phone, “You can use that one.”

Morgan laughed, “Yeah, right.  Because I want half of Army Intelligence listening to my conversation.”

“Ah, boo, are you going to call the hubs?  I promise to keep my inappropriate comments to a minimum,” Trent said with a smirk.

Morgan stepped into Trent’s space, enjoying it when  the man’s cocky smirk faltered slightly, “My husband is not the one I worry about in that scenario, Dragon.”

He watched with satisfaction as Trent’s adams apple bobbed up and down as he nervously swallowed.

He took a step back, “Secure room?”

“Uh, yeah.  Right this way,” he glanced back at Ten who was doing some research on the computer in front of him, “Stay put, sweetheart.”

Ten nodded with a blind salute over his shoulder.

When they stepped into the hall, Morgan frowned at Trent’s back.

“I can feel your eyes on me, Morgan,” he said with smug satisfaction.

“I’m not admiring your ass, if that’s what you think.  I’m just wondering….”

Trent stopped, turned and looked at him, “Wondering what?”

“When you became such a sanctimonious, egotistical prick.  I don’t think you were like this when we dated.  I don’t remember you thinking that the world revolved around you.”

He gasped dramatically, pressing his palm to his chest, “It doesn’t? I’m devastated,” he said with a smirk.

A small smile finally flitted across Morgan’s face, “Shut the hell up, asshole.”

Trent unlocked a door, “You can make your call in here.”

Morgan stepped inside and glanced around, noting that there weren’t any cameras anywhere.  That was a good sign.  He stepped up to the one table in the room and slid his hands along the edge of the table, searching for listening devices.  Once he was satisfied the table was clear, he did the same to the single chair in the room.

He turned to face Trent as he slid his cell phone out of his pocket, “This’ll do.  Thanks.”

“Hey Morg?”

Morgan’s eyes moved back to lock with Trent’s, igniting a flood of memories that flickered through his brain.  “It’s good to see you.  I mean that,” Trent said and then he pulled the door shut.

Maybe it was time to let past hurts go.

“It’s good to see you too, Trent,” he mumbled.

He shook off the memories that were trying to drag him under and focused on his phone.  Scrolling through his contacts, he stopped at the one that he swore he’d never, ever call and yet here he was doing just that.

He pressed talk and brought it up to his ear.

“Morgan Doyle, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Niles Constantino said and even his voice had a commanding presence, much like Morgan’s own husband, Luther’s, had.

Niles Constantino was one of the most respected but also questionable businessmen in the Western states.  With rumored mob ties, the man walked a fine line between legal and illegal like the best tightrope walker ever, other than Morgan’s own husband that is.  In fact, Luther had sold his share of his garbage collection business on the eastern seaboard to Niles when Luther moved to Denver to be with Morgan.

“I need a favor.”

“For you?  Anything.  What do you need?”

“I need your nephew’s phone number.”

“Aleksy?  You do know he’s a Detective with the Denver PD, his number is listed.”

“I don’t want his public number.  I want the one that he’s guaranteed to answer.  I need his help.”

“I would do anything for you and Luther, you know that, right?”

Morgan’s finger drew circles on the table in front of him, “Yes, I know that.  But this is a situation that requires me to use more, um, legal avenues and Aleksy is exactly the type of cop that I need.”

Niles was silent for a moment while Morgan’s heart pounded in his chest.  What if he refused? What if he said that he’d only help if Morgan used Niles and his men?  What if….

“Very well.”

“You will?”

Niles chuckled, “Don’t sound so surprised, Morgan.  I understand when my particular type of help isn’t wanted.”

“It’s not that I don’t want it, it’s just that…”

“Morgan, please.  It’s fine.  I’m not offended.”

Morgan blew out a breath, “Good, that’s….good.”

“I’ll text you his private cell number and then let him know that you will be contacting him.”

“Thank you, Niles.”

“I hope this turns out the way you want it to.  But if it doesn’t…”

“I’ll be sure to call you.”

“Good man,” Niles said and then he ended the call.

Morgan sat at the table for a few minutes staring at his phone.  When the text came through with a phone number, he immediately dialed.

“Constantino,” the man said as his answer.

“Detective Constantino, this is Morgan Doyle.”

“Please, call me Aleksy.  What can I do for you?”

“I need your help.”

“Yes, my uncle said something about that.  But you are aware that I will not step outside of my established boundaries, correct?  I won’t risk my job for anyone, including family.”

“I am aware and I would never ask you to.”

“Well then, please, tell me what you need…”