She woke slowly, with a long, lazy stretch. Keeping her eyes closed, Liz waited for the alarm to ring. It wasn’t often she felt so relaxed, even when waking, so she pampered herself and absorbed the luxury of doing nothing. In an hour, she mused, she’d be at the dive shop shifting through the day’s schedule. The glass bottom, she thought, frowning a little. Was she supposed to take it out? Odd that she couldn’t remember. Then with a start, it occurred to her that she didn’t remember because she didn’t know. She hadn’t handled the schedule in two days. And last night…
She opened her eyes and looked into Jonas’s.
“I could watch your mind wake up.” He bent over and kissed her. “Fascinating.”
Liz closed her fingers over the sheet and tugged it a little higher. What was she supposed to say? She’d never spent the night with a man, never awoken with one. She cleared her throat and wondered if every man awoke as sexily disheveled as Jonas Sharpe. “How did you sleep?” she managed, and felt ridiculous.
“Fine.” He smiled as he brushed her hair from her cheek with a fingertip. “And you?”
“Fine.” Her fingers moved restlessly on the sheet until he closed his hands over them. His eyes were warm and heavy and made her heart pound.
“It’s a little late to be nervous around me, Elizabeth.”
“I’m not nervous.” But color rose to her cheeks when he pressed his lips to her naked shoulder.
“Still, it’s rather flattering. If you’re nervous…” He turned his head so the tip of his tongue could toy with her ear. “Then you’re not unmoved. I wouldn’t like to think you felt casually about being with me—yet.”
Was it possible to want so much this morning what she’d sated herself with the night before? She didn’t think it should be, and yet her body told her differently. She would, as she always did, listen to her intellect first. “It must be almost time to get up.” One hand firmly on the sheets, she rose on her elbows to look at the clock. “That’s not right.” She blinked and focused again. “It can’t be eight-fifteen.”
“Why not?” He slipped a hand beneath the sheet and stroked her thigh.
“Because.” His touch had her pulses speeding. “I always set it for six-fifteen.”
Finding her a challenge, Jonas brushed light kisses over her shoulder, down her arm. “You didn’t set it last night.”
“I always—” She cut herself off. It was hard enough to try to think when he was touching her, but when she remembered the night before, it was nearly impossible to understand why she had to think. Her mind hadn’t been on alarms and schedules and customers when her body had curled into Jonas’s to sleep. Her mind, as it was now, had been filled with him.
“Always what?”
She wished he wouldn’t distract her with fingertips sliding gently over her skin. She wished he could touch her everywhere at once. “I always wake up at six, whether I set it or not.”
“You didn’t this time.” He laughed as he eased her back down. “I suppose I should be flattered again.”
“Maybe I flatter you too much,” she murmured and started to shift away. He simply rolled her back to him. “I have to get up.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Jonas, I’m already late. I have to get to work.”
Sunlight dappled over her face. He wanted to see it over the rest of her. “The only thing you have to do is make love with me.” He kissed her fingers, then slowly drew them from the sheet. “I’ll never get through the day without you.”
“The boats—”
“Are already out, I’m sure.” He cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the nipple. “Luis seems competent.”
“He is. I haven’t been in for two days.”
“One more won’t hurt.”
Her body vibrated with need that slowly wound itself into her mind. Her arms came up to him, around him. “No, I guess it won’t.”
She hadn’t stayed in bed until ten o’clock since she’d been a child. Liz felt as irresponsible as one as she started the coffee. True, Luis could handle the shop and the boats as well as she, but it wasn’t his job. It was hers. Here she was, brewing coffee at ten o’clock, with her body still warm from loving. Nothing had been the same since Jonas Sharpe had arrived on her doorstep.
“It’s useless to give yourself a hard time for taking a morning off,” Jonas said from behind her.
Liz popped bread into the toaster. “I suppose not, since I don’t even know today’s schedule.”
“Liz.” Jonas took her by the arms and firmly turned her around. He studied her, gauging her mood before he spoke. “You know, back in Philadelphia I’m considered a workaholic. I’ve had friends express concern over the workload I take on and the hours I put in. Compared to you, I’m retired.”
Her brows drew together as they did when she was concentrating. Or annoyed. “We each do what we have to do.”
“True enough. It appears what I have to do is harass you until you relax.”
She had to smile. He said it so reasonably and his eyes were laughing. “I’m sure you have a reputation for being an expert on harassment.”
“I majored in it at college.”
“Good for you. But I’m an expert at budgeting my own time. And there’s my toast.” He let her pluck it out, waited until she’d buttered it, then took a piece for himself.
“You mentioned diving lessons.”
She was still frowning at him when she heard the coffee begin to simmer. She reached for one cup, then relented and took two. “What about them?”
“I’ll take one. Today.”
“Today?” She handed him his coffee, drinking her own standing by the stove. “I’ll have to see what’s scheduled. The way things have been going, both dive boats should already be out.”
“Not a group lesson, a private one. You can take me out on the Expatriate.”
“Luis usually takes care of the private lessons.”
He smiled at her. “I prefer dealing with the management.”
Liz dusted crumbs from her fingers. “All right then. It’ll cost you.”
He lifted his cup in salute. “I never doubted it.”
Liz was laughing when Jonas pulled into a narrow parking space at the hotel. “If he’d picked your pocket, why did you defend him?”
“Everyone’s entitled to representation,” Jonas reminded her. “Besides, I figured if I took him on as a client, he’d leave my wallet alone.”
“And did he?”
“Yeah.” Jonas took her hand as they crossed the sidewalk to the sand. “He stole my watch instead.”
She giggled, a foolish, girlish sound he’d never heard from her. “And did you get him off?”
“Two years probation. There, it looks like business is good.”
Liz shielded her eyes from the sun and looked toward the shop. Luis was busily fitting two couples with snorkel gear. A glance to the left showed her only the Expatriate remained in dock. “Cozumel’s becoming very popular,” she murmured.
“Isn’t that the idea?”
“For business?” She moved her shoulders. “I’d be a fool to complain.”
“But?”
“But sometimes I think it would be nice if I could block out the changes. I don’t want to see the water choked with suntan oil. Hola, Luis.”
“Liz!” His gaze passed over Jonas briefly before he grinned at her. “We thought maybe you deserted us. How did you like Acapulco?”
“It was…different,” she decided, and was already scooting behind the counter to find the daily schedule. “Any problems?”
“Jose took care of a couple repairs. I brought Miguel back to fill in, but I keep an eye on him. Got this—what do you call it—brochure on the aqua bikes.” He pulled out a colorful pamphlet, but Liz only nodded.
“The Brinkman party’s out diving. Did we take them to Palancar?”
“Two days in a row. Miguel likes them. They tip good.”
“Hmm. You’re handling the shop alone.”
“No problem. Hey, there was a guy.” He screwed up his face as he tried to remember the name. “Skinny guy, American. You know the one you took out on the beginners’ trip?”
She flipped through the receipts and was satisfied. “Trydent?”
“Sí, that was it. He came by a coupla times.”
“Rent anything?”
“No.” Luis wiggled his eyebrows at her. “He was looking for you.”
Liz shrugged it off. If he hadn’t rented anything, he didn’t interest her. “If everything’s under control here, I’m going to take Mr. Sharpe out for a diving lesson.”
Luis looked quickly at Jonas, then away. The man made him uneasy, but Liz looked happier than she had in weeks. “Want me to get the gear?”
“No, I’ll take care of it.” She looked up and smiled at Jonas. “Write Mr. Sharpe up a rental form and give him a receipt for the gear, the lesson and the boat trip. Since it’s…” She trailed off as she checked her watch. “Nearly eleven, give him the half-day rate.”
“You’re all heart,” Jonas murmured as she went to the shelves to choose his equipment.
“You got the best teacher,” Luis told him, but couldn’t manage more than another quick look at Jonas.
“I’m sure you’re right.” Idly, Jonas swiveled the newspaper Luis had tossed on the counter around to face him. He missed being able to sit down with the morning paper over coffee. The Spanish headlines told him nothing. “Anything going on I should know about?” Jonas asked, indicating the paper.
Luis relaxed a bit as he wrote. Jonas’s voice wasn’t so much like Jerry’s when you weren’t looking at him. “Haven’t had a chance to look at it yet. Busy morning.”
Going with habit, Jonas turned the paper over. There, in a faded black-and-white picture, was Erika. Jonas’s fingers tightened. He glanced back and saw that Liz was busy, her back to him. Without a word, he slid the paper over the receipt Luis was writing.
“Hey, that’s the—”
“I know,” Jonas said in an undertone. “What does it say?”
Luis bent over the paper to read. He straightened again very slowly, and his face was ashen. “Dead,” he whispered. “She’s dead.”
“How?”
Luis’s fingers opened and closed on the pen he held. “Stabbed.”
Jonas thought of the knife held at Liz’s throat. “When?”
“Last night.” Luis had to swallow twice. “They found her last night.”
“Jonas,” Liz called from the back, “how much do you weigh?”
Keeping his eyes on Luis, Jonas turned the paper over again. “One seventy. She doesn’t need to hear this now,” he added under his breath. He pulled bills from his wallet and laid them on the counter. “Finish writing the receipt.”
After a struggle, Luis mastered his own fear and straightened. “I don’t want anything to happen to Liz.”
Jonas met the look with a challenge that held for several humming seconds before he relaxed. The smaller man was terrified, but he was thinking of Liz. “Neither do I. I’m going to see nothing does.”
“You brought trouble.”
“I know.” His gaze shifted beyond Luis to Liz. “But if I leave, the trouble doesn’t.”
For the first time, Luis forced himself to study Jonas’s face. After a moment, he blew out a long breath. “I liked your brother, but I think it was him who brought trouble.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore who brought it. I’m going to look out for her.”
“Then you look good,” Luis warned softly. “You look real good.”
“First lesson,” Liz said as she unlocked her storage closet. “Each diver carries and is responsible for his own gear.” She jerked her head back to where Jonas’s was stacked. With a last look at Luis, he walked through the doorway to gather it up.
“Preparing for a dive is twice as much work as diving itself,” she began as she hefted her tanks. “It’s a good thing it’s worth it. We’ll be back before sundown, Luis. Hasta luego.”
“Liz.” She stopped, turning back to where Luis hovered in the doorway. His gaze passed over Jonas, then returned to her. “Hasta luego,” he managed, and closed his fingers over the medal he wore around his neck.
The moment she was on board, Liz restacked her gear. As a matter of routine, she checked all the Expatriate’s gauges. “Can you cast off?” she asked Jonas.
He ran a hand down her hair, surprising her. She looked so competent, so in charge. He wondered if by staying close he was protecting or endangering. It was becoming vital to believe the first. “I can handle it.”
She felt her stomach flutter as he continued to stare at her. “Then you’d better stop looking at me and do it.”
“I like looking at you.” He drew her close, just to hold her. “I could spend years looking at you.”
Her arms came up, hesitated, then dropped back to her sides. It would be so easy to believe. To trust again, give again, be hurt again. She wanted to tell him of the love growing inside her, spreading and strengthening with each moment. But if she told him she’d no longer have even the illusion of control. Without control, she was defenseless.
“I clocked you on at eleven,” she said, but couldn’t resist breathing deeply of his scent and committing it to memory.
Because she made him smile again, he drew her back. “I’m paying the bill, I’ll worry about the time.”
“Diving lesson,” she reminded him. “And you can’t dive until you cast off.”
“Aye, aye, sir.” But he gave her a hard, breath-stealing kiss before he jumped back on the dock.
Liz drew air into her lungs and let it out slowly before she turned on the engines. All she could hope was that she looked more in control than she felt. He was winning a battle, she mused, that he didn’t even know he was fighting. She waited for Jonas to join her again before she eased the throttle forward.
“There are plenty of places to dive where we don’t need the boat, but I thought you’d enjoy something away from the beaches. Palancar is one of the most stunning reefs in the Caribbean. It’s probably the best place to start because the north end is shallow and the wall slopes rather than having a sheer vertical drop-off. There are a lot of caves and passageways, so it makes for an interesting dive.”
“I’m sure, but I had something else in mind.”
“Something else?”
Jonas took a small book out of his pocket and flipped through it. “What do these numbers look like to you?”
Liz recognized the book. It was the same one he’d used in Acapulco to copy down the numbers from his brother’s book in the safe-deposit box. He still had his priorities, she reminded herself, then drew back on the throttle to let the boat idle.
The numbers were in precise, neat lines. Any child who’d paid attention in geography class would recognize them. “Longitude and latitude.”
He nodded. “Do you have a chart?”
He’d planned this since he’d first seen the numbers, she realized. Their being lovers changed nothing else. “Of course, but I don’t need it for this. I know these waters. That’s just off the coast of Isla Mujeres.” Liz adjusted her course and picked up speed. Perhaps, she thought, the course had already been set for both of them long before this. They had no choice but to see it through. “It’s a long trip. You might as well relax.”
He put his hands on her shoulders to knead. “We won’t find anything, but I have to go.”
“I understand.”
“Would you rather I go alone?”
She shook her head violently, but said nothing.
“Liz, this had to be his drop point. By tomorrow, Moralas will have the numbers and send his own divers down. I have to see for myself.”
“You’re chasing shadows, Jonas. Jerry’s gone. Nothing you can do is going to change that.”
“I’ll find out why. I’ll find out who. That’ll be enough.”
“Will it?” With her hand gripping the wheel hard, she looked over her shoulder. His eyes were close, but they held that cool, set look again. “I don’t think so—not for you.” Liz turned her face back to the sea. She would take him where he wanted to go.
Isla Mujeres, Island of Women, was a small gem in the water. Surrounded by reefs and studded with untouched lagoons, it was one of the perfect retreats of the Caribbean. Party boats from the continental coast or one of the other islands cruised there daily to offer their customers snorkeling or diving at its best. It had once been known by pirates and blessed by a goddess. Liz anchored the boat off the southwest coast. Once again, she became the teacher.
“It’s important to know and understand both the name and the use of every piece of equipment. It’s not just a matter of stuffing in a mouthpiece and strapping on a tank. No smoking,” she added as Jonas took out a cigarette. “It’s ridiculous to clog up your lungs in the first place, and absurd to do it before a dive.”
Jonas set the pack on the bench beside him. “How long are we going down?”
“We’ll keep it under an hour. The depth here ranges to eighty feet. That means the nitrogen in your air supply will be over three times denser than what your system’s accustomed to. In some people at some depths, this can cause temporary imbalances. If you begin to feel light-headed, signal to me right away. We’ll descend in stages to give your body time to get used to the changes in pressure. We ascend the same way in order to give the nitrogen time to expel. If you come up too quickly, you risk decompression sickness. It can be fatal.” As she spoke, she spread out the gear with the intention of explaining each piece. “Nothing is to be taken for granted in the water. It is not your milieu. You’re dependent on your equipment and your own good sense. It’s beautiful and it’s exciting, but it’s not an amusement park.”
“Is this the same lecture you give on the dive boat?”
“Basically.”
“You’re very good.”
“Thank you.” She picked up a gauge. “Now—”
“Can we get started?” he asked and reached for his wet suit.
“We are getting started. You can’t dive without a working knowledge of your equipment.”
“That’s a depth gauge.” He nodded toward her hand as he stripped down to black briefs. “A very sophisticated one. I wouldn’t think most dive shops would find it necessary to stock that quality.”
“This is mine,” she murmured. “But I keep a handful for rentals.”
“I don’t think I mentioned that you have the best-tended equipment I’ve ever seen. It isn’t in the same league with your personal gear, but it’s quality. Give me a hand, will you?”
Liz rose to help him into the tough, stretchy suit. “You’ve gone down before.”
“I’ve been diving since I was fifteen.” Jonas pulled up the zipper before bending over to check the tanks himself.
“Since you were fifteen.” Liz yanked off her shirt and tossed it aside. Fuming, she pulled off her shorts until she wore nothing but a string bikini and a scowl. “Then why did you let me go on that way?”
“I liked hearing you.” Jonas glanced up and felt his blood surge. “Almost as much as I like looking at you.”
She wasn’t in the mood to be flattered, less in the mood to be charmed. Without asking for assistance, she tugged herself into her wet suit. “You’re still paying for the lesson.”
Jonas grinned as he examined his flippers. “I never doubted it.”
She strapped on the rest of her gear in silence. It was difficult even for her to say if she were really angry. All she knew was the day, and dive, weren’t as simple as they had started out to be. Lifting the top of a bench, she reached into a compartment and took out two short metal sticks shaped like bats.
“What’s this for?” Jonas asked as she handed him one.
“Insurance.” She adjusted her mask. “We’re going down to the caves where the sharks sleep.”
“Sharks don’t sleep.”
“The oxygen content in the water in the cave keeps them quiescent. But don’t think you can trust them.”
Without another word, she swung over the side and down the ladder.
The water was as clear as glass, so she could see for more than a hundred feet. As she heard Jonas plunge in beside her, Liz turned to assure herself he did indeed know what he was doing. Catching her skeptical look, Jonas merely circled his thumb and forefinger, then pointed down.
He was tense. Liz could feel it from him, though she understood it had nothing to do with his skill underwater. His brother had dived here once—she was as certain of it as Jonas. And the reason for his dives had been the reason for his death. She no longer had to think whether she was angry. In a gesture as personal as a kiss, she reached out a hand and took his.
Grateful, Jonas curled his fingers around hers. He didn’t know what he was looking for, or even why he continued to look when already he’d found more than he’d wanted to. His brother had played games with the rules and had lost. Some would say there was justice in that. But they’d shared birth. He had to go on looking, and go on hoping.
Liz saw the first of the devilfish and tugged on Jonas’s hand. Such things never failed to touch her spirit. The giant manta rays cruised together, feeding on plankton and unconcerned with the human intruders. Liz kicked forward, delighted to swim among them. Their huge mouths could crush and devour crustaceans. Their wingspan of twenty feet and more was awesome. Without fear, Liz reached out to touch. Pleasure came easily, as it always did to her in the sea. Her eyes were laughing as she reached out again for Jonas.
They descended farther, and some of his tension began to dissolve. There was something different about her here, a lightness, an ease that dissolved the sadness that always seemed to linger in her eyes. She looked free, and more, as happy as he’d ever seen her. If it were possible to fall in love in a matter of moments, Jonas fell in love in those, forty feet below the surface with a mermaid who’d forgotten how to dream.
Everything she saw, everything she could touch fascinated her. He could see it in the way she moved, the way she looked at everything as though it were her first dive. If he could have found a way, he would have stayed with her there, surrounded by love and protected by fathoms.
They swam deeper, but leisurely. If something evil had been begun, or been ended there, it had left no trace. The sea was calm and silent and full of life too lovely to exist in the air.
When the shadow passed over, Liz looked up. In all her dives, she’d never seen anything so spectacular. Thousands upon thousands of silvery grunts moved together in a wave so dense that they might have been one creature. Eyes wide with the wonder of it, Liz lifted her arms and took her body up. The wave swayed as a unit, avoiding intrusion. Delighted, she signaled for Jonas to join her. The need to share the magic was natural. This was the pull of the sea that had driven her to study, urged to explore and invited her once to dream. With her fingers linked with Jonas’s, she propelled them closer. The school of fish split in half so that it became two unified forms swirling on either side of them. The sea teemed with them, thick clouds of silver so tightly grouped that they seemed fused together.
For a moment she was as close to her own fantasies as she had ever been, floating free, surrounded by magic, with her lover’s hand in hers. Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around Jonas and held on. The clouds of fish swarmed around them, linked into one, then swirled away.
He could feel her pulse thud when he reached for her wrist. He could see the fascinated delight in her eyes. Hampered by his human frailty in the water, he could only touch his hand to her cheek. When she lifted her own to press it closer, it was enough. Side by side they swam toward the seafloor.
The limestone caves were eerie and compelling. Once Jonas saw the head of a moray eel slide out and curve, either in curiosity or warning. An old turtle with barnacles crusting his back rose from his resting place beneath a rock and swam between them. Then at the entrance to a cave, Liz pointed and shared another mystery.
The shark moved across the sand, as a dog might on a hearth rug. His small, black eyes stared back at them as his gills slowly drew in water. While they huddled just inside the entrance, their bubbles rising up through the porous limestone and toward the surface, the shark shifted restlessly. Jonas reached for Liz’s hand to draw her back, but she moved a bit closer, anxious to see.
In a quick move, the shark shot toward the entrance. Jonas was grabbing for Liz and his knife, when she merely poked at the head with her wooden bat. Without pausing, the shark swam toward the open sea and vanished.
He wanted to strangle her. He wanted to tell her how fascinating she was to watch. Since he could do neither, Jonas merely closed a hand over her throat and gave her a mock shake. Her laughter had bubbles dancing.
They swam on together, parting from time to time to explore separate interests. He decided she’d forgotten his purpose in coming, but thought it was just as well. If she could take this hour for personal freedom, he was glad of it. For him, there were demands.
The water and the life in it were undeniably beautiful, but Jonas noticed other things. They hadn’t seen another diver and their down time was nearly up. The caves where the sharks slept were also a perfect place to conceal a cache of drugs. Only the very brave or the very foolish would swim in their territory at night. He thought of his brother and knew Jerry would have considered it the best kind of adventure. A man with a reason could swim into one of the caves while the sharks were out feeding, and leave or take whatever he liked.
Liz hadn’t forgotten why Jonas had come. Because she thought she could understand a part of what he was feeling, she gave him room. Here, eighty feet below the surface, he was searching for something, anything, to help him accept his brother’s death. And his brother’s life.
It would come to an end soon, Liz reflected. The police had the name of the go-between in Acapulco. And the other name that Jonas had given them, she remembered suddenly. Where had he gotten that one? She looked toward him and realized there were things he wasn’t telling her. That, too, would end soon, she promised herself. Then she found herself abruptly out of air.
She didn’t panic. Liz was too well trained to panic. Immediately, she checked her gauge and saw that she had ten full minutes left. Reaching back, she ran a hand down her hose and found it unencumbered. But she couldn’t draw air.
Whatever the gauge said, her life was on the line. If she swam toward the surface, her lungs would be crushed by the pressure. Forcing herself to stay calm, she swam in a diagonal toward Jonas. When she caught his ankle, she tugged sharply. The smile he turned with faded the moment he saw her eyes. Recognizing her signal, he immediately removed his regulator and passed it to her. Liz drew in air. Nodding, she handed it back to him. Their bodies brushing, her hand firm on his shoulder, they began their slow ascent.
Buddy-breathing, they rose closer to the surface, restraining themselves from rushing. What took only a matter of minutes seemed to drag on endlessly. The moment Liz’s head broke water, she pushed back her mask and gulped in fresh air.
“What happened?” Jonas demanded, but when he felt her begin to shake, he only swore and pulled her with him to the ladder. “Take it easy.” His hand was firm at her back as she climbed up.
“I’m all right.” But she collapsed on a bench, without the energy to draw off her tanks. Her body shuddered once with relief as Jonas took the weight from her. With her head between her knees, she waited for the mists to clear. “I’ve never had anything like that happen,” she managed. “Not at eighty feet.”
He was rubbing her hands to warm them. “What did happen?”
“I ran out of air.”
Enraged, he took her by the shoulders and dragged her back to a sitting position. “Ran out of air? That’s unforgivably careless. How can you give lessons when you haven’t the sense to watch your own gauges?”
“I watched my gauge.” She drew air in and let it out slowly. “I should have had another ten minutes.”
“You rent diving equipment, for God’s sake! How can you be negligent with your own? You might’ve died.”
The insult to her competence went a long way toward smothering the fear. “I’m never careless,” she snapped at him. “Not with rental equipment or my own.” She dragged the mask from her head and tossed it on the bench. “Look at my gauge. I should have had ten minutes left.”
He looked, but it didn’t relieve his anger. “Your equipment should be checked. If you go down with a faulty gauge you’re inviting an accident.”
“My equipment has been checked. I check it myself after every dive, and it was fine before I stored it. I filled those tanks myself.” The alternative came to her even as she finished speaking. Her face, already pale, went white. “God, Jonas, I filled them myself. I checked every piece of equipment the last time I went down.”
He closed a hand over hers hard enough to make her wince. “You keep it in the shop, in that closet.”
“I lock it up.”
“How many keys?”
“Mine—and an extra set in the drawer. They’re rarely used because I always leave mine there when I go out on the boats.”
“But the extra set would have been used when we were away?”
The shaking was starting again. This time it wasn’t as simple to control it. “Yes.”
“And someone used the key to the closet to get in and tamper with your equipment.”
She moistened her lips. “Yes.”
The rage ripped inside him until he was nearly blind with it. Hadn’t he just promised to watch out for her, to keep her safe? With intensely controlled movements, he pulled off his flippers and discarded his mask. “You’re going back. You’re going to pack, then I’m putting you on a plane. You can stay with my family until this is over.”
“No.”
“You’re going to do exactly what I say.”
“No,” she said again and managed to draw the strength to stand. “I’m not going anywhere. This is the second time someone’s threatened my life.”
“And they’re not going to have a chance to do it again.”
“I’m not leaving my home.”
“Don’t be a fool.” He rose. Knowing he couldn’t touch her, he unzipped his wet suit and began to strip it off. “Your business isn’t going to fall apart. You can come back when it’s safe.”
“I’m not leaving.” She took a step toward him. “You came here looking for revenge. When you have it, you can leave and be satisfied. Now I’m looking for answers. I can’t leave because they’re here.”
Struggling to keep his hands gentle, he took her face between them. “I’ll find them for you.”
“You know better than that, don’t you, Jonas? Answers don’t mean anything unless you find them yourself. I want my daughter to be able to come home. Until I find those answers, until it’s safe, she can’t.” She lifted her hands to his face so that they stood as a unit. “We both have reasons to look now.”
He sat, took his pack of cigarettes and spoke flatly. “Erika’s dead.”
The anger that had given her the strength to stand wavered. “What?”
“Murdered.” His voice was cold again, hard again. “A few days ago I met her, paid her for a name.”
Liz braced herself against the rail. “The name you gave to the captain.”
Jonas lit his cigarette, telling himself he was justified to put fear back into her eyes. “That’s right. She asked some questions, got some answers. She told me this Pablo Manchez was bad, a professional killer. Jerry was killed by a pro. So, it appears, was Erika.”
“She was shot?”
“Stabbed,” Jonas corrected and watched Liz’s hand reach involuntarily for her own neck. “That’s right.” He drew violently on the cigarette then hurled it overboard before he rose. “You’re going back to the States until this is all over.”
She turned her back on him a moment, needing to be certain she could be strong. “I’m not leaving, Jonas. We have the same problem.”
“Liz—”
“No.” When she turned back her chin was up and her eyes were clear. “You see, I’ve run from problems before, and it doesn’t work.”
“This isn’t a matter of running, it’s a matter of being sensible.”
“You’re staying.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Then neither do I.”
“Liz, I don’t want you hurt.”
She tilted her head as she studied him. She could believe that, she realized, and take comfort in it. “Will you go?”
“I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“Neither can I.” She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her cheek to his shoulder in a first spontaneous show of need or affection. “Let’s go home,” she murmured. “Let’s just go home.”