Pushing his fingers into his forehead, Trent sighed. “You have no idea how this works.”

Affronted, I puffed at him and his smarter-than-thou attitude. “Work with me here, huh? Letting the bad guy live might be good for your soul.”

He didn’t look convinced; he looked patronizing. “Letting Lee live is a mistake. His family won’t like him in jail. They’d rather have him dead than be an embarrassment.”

“Well isn’t that just too bad. I’m not going to kill him, and I’m not going to let you kill him, either, so sit down, shut up, hold on, and watch how real people solve problems.”

Trent shook his head to make his hair float about his red-rimmed ears. “What’s arresting Lee going to get you? His lawyers will have him out before he can sit on a jail-cell cot.”

“Voice of experience?” I mocked, seeing as I almost had him there last fall.

“Yes,” he said darkly. “The FIB has my fingerprints on file, thanks to you.”

“And the I.S. has a sample of my DNA for identification purposes. Suck it up.”

Quen made a soft sound, and I suddenly realized we were arguing like children.

Looking peeved, Trent settled back in his chair and laced his fingers over his middle. Fatigue pulled at him. “Admitting I was on that boat is going to be difficult. We weren’t seen leaving. And it would be hard to explain how we survived and everyone else died.”

“Be inventive. Maybe the truth?” I said cockily. Pushing Trent’s buttons was kinda fun. “Everybody knows he’s trying to jerk Cincinnati out from under you and Piscary. Go with it. Just leave me dead in the river.”

Trent eyed me carefully. “You’re going to tell your FIB captain you’re alive, yes?”

“That’s one of the reasons you’re going to file with the FIB and not the I.S.” My gaze went to the stairway as Jonathan’s tall form started down it. He seemed irritated, and I wondered what was up. No one said anything as he approached, and I wished I hadn’t pushed Trent so far. The man didn’t look happy. It would be just like him to kill Lee out from under me. “You want Saladan out of the city?” I said. “I’ll do that for you for free. All I want is you to file a complaint and pay for the lawyer to keep him in prison. Can you do that for me?”

His face went empty as thoughts he didn’t want to share with me passed through his mind. Nodding slowly, he beckoned Jonathan closer.

Taking that as a yes, I felt my shoulders ease. “Thanks,” I muttered as the tall man bent to whisper in Trent’s ear and Trent’s gaze shot to me. I strained to hear, getting nothing.

“Keep him at the gate,” Trent said, glancing at Quen. “I don’t want him on the grounds.”

“Who?” I said, wondering.

Trent stood and tightened the tie on his robe. “I told Mr. Felps I’d arrange for your return, but he seems to think you’re in need of rescuing. He’s waiting for you at the gatehouse.”