Rachael closed her eyes against the sudden despair sweeping through her. She hadn’t considered that much money. People killed for far less. What would a million dollars mean to the men facing her?

“That explains a lot,” Rio said. He sighed softly. “Drake, my medical supplies are running a little low, but I’ve got enough to clean up Kim and pack his wounds.”

“I’ll get the plants we need,” Tama said. “We didn’t stop for anything, we hurried to check on you.” He left the house abruptly.

“I appreciate that,” Rio answered. He sank into the chair beside Rachael, casually shifting her, careful of her leg beneath the blanket, settling her partially onto his thigh, arranging her leg and the blanket to his satisfaction. He waved at the others to find seats.

“What is it?” Drake asked as he rummaged through the medical bag. “What does a million dollars explain?”

“I had a visitor last night. One of ours, one I didn’t recognize. A traitor, Drake. I couldn’t imagine what would induce one of ours to turn traitor, but a million dollars can go to a man’s head.”

Rachael stayed very quiet, aware the information being passed back and forth was important to her. She hoped they forgot about her presence and would speak more openly.

“How could he have been one of ours if you didn’t recognize his scent, Rio?” Drake didn’t look up from where he was washing Kim’s wounds.

Rachael couldn’t bear to look at Kim’s swollen, bruised face. He was stoic as Drake cleansed the lacerations, but as he shrugged out of his torn shirt, she saw him wince. He turned slightly and she gasped. “What did they do to you?”

Rio slipped his arm around her. “Those marks are made from caning. The bandits are known for using a cane on their victims. Tomas is notorious for it. I don’t think we’ve brought out a single kidnap victim without evidence and tales of caning.”

Rachael turned her face into Rio’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kim, I didn’t want anyone hurt. I thought if I slipped into the river, they’d think I drowned.”

“They would have found another reason to cane him,” Rio said, his fingers massaging the nape of her neck. “Tomas is sick. He enjoys other people’s pain.”

“What he says is the truth, Miss Wilson,” Kim agreed.

“Rachael. Call me Rachael, please.”

“She has trouble with her last name,” Rio offered.

Rachael glared at him. “You’re just so funny. You should be a stand-up comedian.”

“I didn’t even know Rio had a sense of humor,” Drake said, tossing a boyish grin over his shoulder at Rio.

“I don’t,” Rio answered ominously.

Tama hurried in, carrying several plants and roots. “These will heal you fast, Kim, and perhaps the cat too.”