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.”

“And he’s dead.” With a sigh she lifted her face so that the wind could cool her skin. “I’m sorry, Jonas. Jerry’s dead and if you go through with what you’ve planned, you’re going to kill something in yourself.” And, though she couldn’t tell him, something in her. “Don’t you trust the law?”

He tossed his cigarette into the water, then leaned on the rail. “I’ve been playing with it for years. It’s the last thing I’d trust.”

She wanted to go to him but didn’t know how. Still, no matter what he did, she was beside him. “Then you’ll have to trust yourself. And so will I.”

Slowly, he crossed to her. Taking her face in his hands, he tried to understand what she was telling him, what she was still holding back. “Will you?”

“Yes.”

He leaned to press a kiss to her forehead. Inside there was a need, a fierce desire to tell her to head the boat out to sea and keep going. But that would never work, not for either of them. They stood on the boat together, and stood at the crossroads. “Then start now.” He kissed her again before he turned and lifted one of the compartment seats. Liz frowned as she saw the wet suit.

“What are you doing?”

“I arranged to have Luis leave this here for me.”

“Why? We can’t both go down.”

Jonas stripped down to his trunks. “That’s right. I’m diving, you’re staying with the boat.”