“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.”