“Well, no more Mr. Nice Guy. I heard what you said to him. That was cold.”

“Something to remember it the next time you leave your socks on the floor. Now pay attention or we’re both going to die. I never killed anyone before, and I’m afraid of going into shock. I’m trying not to, but I had a rough night. Understand? And we have to get out of here.”

Her voice was up and her speech rapid, so she wasn’t kidding. She deftly tore the leg of his pants open. With the hem of the nightgown she wiped at the wound and watched it bleed. “Good, it’s not spurting.”

“Thank heaven for small favors.”

“Big favors, genius. Do you still have that bag?”

“Is that perfume? What’s it called?”

“Fracas. The name fit at the time. Pay attention, damn it. Do you have that bag I saw you carrying? I need the strap for a tourniquet for your leg. The bone doesn’t seem to be broken. We can be thankful for that, too.”

“Let’s get me onto the boat. It must have a first-aid kit.”

“No, the strap. Quick, dammit.” He reached for the bag in the passenger footwell. “Jesus,” she muttered when she saw the bag’s contents. “You have been a busy boy. That boat isn’t going anywhere.” She hurried with the strap. When she bent over, he could see her nipples. Always a good show inside. Maybe he was the one going into shock. “At least, not with us,” she said. “The control panel is locked behind three feet of half-inch steel held in place by two chromium steel combination locks.”

“What do you mean, ‘Not with us?’ Why did you say it that way?”

“Chino’s on his way,” she said.

“No, I killed him.”

“When? How did Gregory know you were coming?” She twisted a loop of the strap, turned it twice, and slipped his hand into the loop. “Hold that tight. Tight, I said.”

The pain was getting sharper. “You’re not making sense. How could he know?”

“Don’t argue. Can you still handle a gun?” She gave him the automatic from the hood of the car. “I’ll get the first-aid kit. I saw it under the sink in the master cabin. Hold that strap tight! You have to release it every few minutes, but I’ll tell you when.”

She turned and ran. She was barefoot — how had that happened? Now he remembered she had been barefoot yesterday at the hotel pool. But there were silk pumps on the pavement back by Gregory’s car. Perfume? A silk nightgown? He had to get hold of himself. He owed that to her. Holding the strap, he stood up — and almost pitched forward on his face. The strap loosened momentarily and he felt the blood pour down his leg again.