Jonas examined the key. “‘The Purloined Letter,’” he murmured.

“What?”

“It was one of Jerry’s favorite stories when we were kids. I remember when he tested out the theory by putting a book he’d bought for my father for Christmas on the shelf in the library.”

“So do you think it was his?”

“I think it would be just his style.”

Liz picked up the bear again, finding it comforted her. “It doesn’t do much good to have a key when you don’t have the lock.”

“It shouldn’t be hard to find it.” He held the key up by the stem. “Do you know what it is?”

“A key.” Liz sat on Faith’s bed. No, she hadn’t distanced herself. The quicksand was bubbling again.

“To a safe-deposit box.” Jonas turned it over to read the numbers etched into the metal.

“Do you think Captain Moralas can trace it?”

“Eventually,” Jonas murmured. The key was warm in his hand. It was the next step, he thought. It had to be. “But I’m not telling him about it.”

“Why?”

“Because he’d want it, and I don’t intend to give it to him until I open the lock myself.”

She recognized the look easily enough now. It was still revenge. Leaving the bear on her daughter’s bed, Liz rose. “What are you going to do, go from bank to bank and ask if you can try the key out? You won’t have to call the police, they will.”

“I’ve got some connections—and I’ve got the serial number.” Jonas pocketed the key. “With luck, I’ll have the name of the bank by tomorrow afternoon. You may have to take a couple of days off.”

“I can’t take a couple of days off, and if I could, why should I need to?”

“We’re going to Acapulco.”

She started to make some caustic comment, then stopped. “Because Jerry told Erika he’d had business there?”

“If Jerry was mixed up in something, and he had something important or valuable, he’d tuck it away. A safe-deposit box in Acapulco makes sense.”

“Fine. If that’s what you believe, have a nice trip.” She started to brush past him. Jonas only had to shift his body to bar the door.

“We go together.”

The word “together” brought back her thoughts on couples and comfort. And it made her remember her conclusion about Jonas. “Look, Jonas, I can’t drop everything and follow you on some wild-goose chase. Acapulco is very cosmopolitan. You won’t need an interpreter.”

“The key was on your ring. The knife was at your throat. I want you where I can see you.”

“Concerned?” Her face hardened, muscle by muscle. “You’re not concerned with me, Jonas. And you’re certainly not concerned about me. The only thing you care about is your revenge. I don’t want any part of it, or you.”

He took her by the shoulders until she was backed against the door. “We both know that’s not true. We’ve started something.” His gaze skimmed down, lingered on her lips. “And it’s not going to stop until we’re both finished with it.”