Baba hadn't expected the answer exactly, but it was something better than his occupation. People rarely caught the difference between calling and occupation these days; probably because no one had a calling anymore. It was all about money, greed, wants - wants that people certainly wouldn't want if they'd thought about it. No one thought anymore.
As they walked, her fingers alternated between soft touches, light tracings at his skin, and the light bites of nails, rakings. It wasn't meant to be enough to distract him; it was simply a contact she needed, wanted. There was an absent smile as she imagined him chained to a wall, begging for her mercy whatever that might mean. He was certainly more than a mere plaything; she leaned in and smelled him, listening. Her eyes said as much as she looked up at him.
"They?" She could guess who they were, people whom Dexter had decided to remove from the face of the earth. She'd only need a look from him to know she was right.
"They. Your father taught you to remove them? Why? How do you choose who needs to disappear?" No accusations. She was curious; she wanted to know.