“They kept their part of the bargain,” Jonas commented.

Liz merely shoved the envelope into a drawer. “I’ll get my equipment.”

Jonas watched her. She’d rather do this on her own, he reflected. She’d rather not think she had someone to lean on, to turn to. He took her tanks before she could heft them. She was going to learn, he reminded himself, that she had a great deal more than that. “The coordinates?”

“The same that were in Jerry’s book.” She found herself amazingly calm as she waited to lock the door behind him. They were being watched. She was aware that Moralas had staked men in the hotel. She was just as certain Manchez was somewhere close. She and Jonas didn’t speak again until they were on the dive boat and had cast off. “This could end it.” She glanced at him as she set her course.

“This could end it.”

She was silent for a moment. All during the evening hours she’d thought about what she would say to him, how she would say it. “Jonas, what will you do?”

The flame of his lighter hissed, flared, then was quiet. “What I have to do.”

The fear tasted like copper in her mouth, but it had nothing to do with herself and everything to do with Jonas. “If we make the exchange tonight, turn the second case over to Moralas. They’ll have to come out in the open. Manchez, and the man who gives the orders.”

“What are you getting at, Liz?”

“Manchez killed your brother.”

Jonas looked beyond her. The sea was black. The sky was black. Only the hum of the motor broke the silence. “He was the trigger.”

“Are you going to kill him?”

Slowly, he turned back to her. The question had been quiet, but her eyes weren’t. They sent messages, posed argument, issued pleas. “It doesn’t involve you.”

That hurt deeply, sharply. With a nod, she followed the shimmer of light on the water. “Maybe not. But if you let hate rule what you do, how you think, you’ll never be free of it. Manchez will be dead, Jerry will still be dead and you…” She turned to look at him again. “You’ll never really be alive again.”

“I didn’t come all this way, spend all this time, to let Manchez walk away. He kills for money and because he enjoys it. He enjoys it,” Jonas repeated viciously. “You can see it in his eyes.”

And she had. But she didn’t give a damn about Manchez. “Do you remember telling me once that everyone was entitled to representation?”

He remembered. He remembered everything he’d once believed in. He remembered how Jerry had looked in the cold white light of the morgue. “It didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“I suppose you change the rules when it’s personal.”

“He was my brother.”