Part 12 (1/2)

”It will.”

”Did you listen to the weather on the radio?”

He shook his head. ”I can smell it.”

She took a deep breath. ”What do you smell?”

”Moisture.”

She laughed. ”What on earth does moisture smell like? And if you say, 'Something wet,' I'll have to push you off the railing and into the bushes.”

”You'll have to trust me on the rain, then.”

”Okay. How long will the storm last?”

”It will be gone by morning. Tomorrow night should be clear.”

”You can tell all that from a smell?”

He smiled in the darkness. ”No, I listened to the radio, too.”

She s.h.i.+fted on the seat. The chains clinked together. ”I'll be glad to get going,” she said. ”This waiting is hard. Yet a part of me wants to just hide out here. I suppose I'm afraid of the unknown.”

”You'll be fine.”

”You don't know that.”

He risked glancing at her. She was curled up in a corner of the swing. She'd pulled her knees to her chest. For once, her hair was loose around her shoulders. The long blond strands s.h.i.+mmered in the darkness; the waves from the braids she'd worn caught the living room light. She looked small and defenseless. He wanted to go to her and protect her. Instead, he stayed in place.

”You're smart,” he said. ”You've done as much as you can. With a little luck, you'll be able to stay hidden.”

”We're due for some luck.” She raised her head and stared at him. ”I'm sorry about your men.”

”What men?”

”The ones you're with. I'm sure they don't appreciate having their leader tied up with my problems. Once Bobby and I are gone, you can get on with your mission.”

”Is that what you think?”

She nodded. ”I know you're with the government somehow. I don't want to know anything more, you know, in case I get caught.”

”You've watched too many movies.”

”You're not here to arrest Kray?”

Not exactly. But he couldn't tell her that. Better if she did think he was part of some secret armed force invading St. Lucas to take her husband away in chains. It was slightly dramatic, but if it helped her sleep at night, she could think what she wanted. He slid off the railing and stood up. He rested one shoulder and hip on the support beam. She was directly in front of him. He couldn't avoid looking at her, and he didn't want to.

She tilted her head and the light caught the side of her face. He could see the first faint lines around her eyes and the perfect arc of her cheekbones. What would she think if she knew the truth? That he was a task force of one. His mission wasn't to arrest her husband, but to a.s.sa.s.sinate him. What would she say if she knew he was willing to die to see Kray dead? Would she be relieved, or would she fear him? He was surprised to find he could accept her fears but not her disdain. He'd gotten soft, no doubt about that.

”I'll get the job done,” he said at last. ”You've delayed what needs doing, but that's all. In the end it won't make any difference.”

”I'm glad.” She gave him a half smile. ”Isn't that awful? I want my ex-husband in prison. Not just because he deserves it, but because then Bobby and I will have a chance at life. Have you been after him for a long time?”

”Years.”

”So you'll feel good when the job is finished.”

Their definitions of ”finished” were different. She meant arrested and he meant dead. ”Yeah, I'll be glad.”

”This is very surreal to me,” she said. ”We're talking about spies and arresting criminals. A month ago my biggest worry was keeping my grades up in law school.”

He told himself to keep his mouth shut. She didn't have to know. He opened his mouth to ask about her cla.s.ses, but instead blurted out, ”I might not be here to arrest him.”

She lowered her feet to the floor and folded her hands on her lap. ”I've thought of that, too,” she said quietly. ”A part of me wants him dead. Now you know the worst there is about me. I wouldn't be happy if he was killed, but I wouldn't mourn him.”

If this was the worst she had to tell him, he had misjudged her. If she was who and what she appeared to be, then she'd been caught up in Kray's world by mistake. The stories of wild parties, of alcohol and drugs, of using her money from modeling to attract the world's elite made no sense when he stared at the woman in front of him. Last night she'd implied that the Frenchman who'd betrayed her had been her first lover.

Jeff had gone through her things while she'd been in the pool with Bobby. She had nothing with her no prescription drugs, no mysterious bottles. She was too healthy to be living on the edge. His gut told him the truth. He didn't want tolisten, he didn't want to believe she was other than what he'd been told. Yet he knew. Andie Cochran had been an innocent in a den of wolves.

”I saw him kill a man,” she said.

Jeff stared at her. ”What?”

”He shot him, in our apartment inParis. It was the middle of the afternoon. A Wednesday.” She shook her head. ”I remember what I was wearing. Isn't that the oddest thing? It was a blue suit. Silk, with my pearls. And there wasn't very much blood. I thought there would be more. I remember thinking the rug would be ruined. But when I finally made myself go in the room later, it was fine. There was only a damp spot, where the stain had been scrubbed away.”

She spoke the words without feeling, as if she were describing a picture in a book. Her expression was calm. Only her hands gave her away. Her fingers twisted together so tightly, he could see her knuckles getting white.

Jeff could fill in the details she left out. She must have been horrified. People who lived normal lives couldn't imagine what went on in the shadows. Violence, fear, cold-blooded reprisals for disobedience. That was Kray's world.

”Did he know?” he asked.

”Yes. We never talked of it, but he knew. I was afraid to leave right away. I thought he would kill me, too. So I stayed for a month. I pretended everything was fine.” She shuddered. ”I hated it. Being with him, having him touch me. At night-” She stopped and looked away. ”It was difficult.”

”But he let you go.”

”I never understood why. I finally gathered my courage and told him I really missed living in the States. It was obvious I wasn't the right kind of wife for him. I wasn't ornamental enough. I said it would be best if I went home. He agreed.”

”Just like that?”

She nodded slowly. Her long blond hair slipped over her shoulders and concealed her expression. ”I spent the first month waiting for a bullet in my back. I figured he had people watching me. I wanted to go to the police and tell them about the man I'd seen shot. But I was afraid.”

”That's understandable.”

”It's because of Bobby.” She brushed her hair away from her face and looked at him. Her eyes were wide and dark, her mouth trembling. ”I knew I was pregnant. My child mattered more than justice. So I kept quiet and Kray let us live.”

She was asking if she'd done the right thing. Not in so many words, but in the way she stared at him. He didn't want to get suckered into this. He was having enough trouble maintaining his distance. Still, it wouldn't hurt to give her a pat on the back. She'd been through a h.e.l.l of a lot.