Inside the door to the cabin, Dar paused, ignoring the prodding from the guard behind her. She checked out the room, then walked inside, keeping a light hand on Kerry’s back. DeSalliers was standing near the bar, and three men holding guns were stationed around the room.

Dar’s lips twitched into a feral smile. “Six guys with rifles?”

She glanced between herself and Kerry. “I’m flattered.”

“I feel so dangerous,” Kerry added, folding her arms over her chest. “And I’m not even wearing my brown belt.”

“Shut up.” DeSalliers waved three of the guards out. “You’re empty handed, Roberts. I thought you were smarter than that, but on second thought, I should have realized you aren’t.”

Dar deliberately turned her back on him, strolling across the cabin’s interior to study one of the maps on the wall. “I’m not empty handed; you’re empty headed.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Here’s my deal: you show me Bud.”

“This is not your deal,” DeSalliers interrupted. “Now you just shut up and listen to me.”

“No!” Dar turned and walked right past the gun barrel of one 306 Melissa Good of the guards. “You listen to me, you scumbag.” She felt her temper rise, and a rush of energy filled her body. “You want the information I have? Do you? Otherwise, I’ll just walk out of here and sell it to the highest bidder.”

“You don’t have shit.”

“Don’t I?” Dar smiled. “ You’re wrong about that. I know about the poaching.” She ticked off one of her fingers. “I know Wharton cut a deal with the locals.” She paused and waited. DeSalliers now watched her with lethal, bitter silence. “I know about the will. So, you jackass—if you want what I’ve got, then you do what I say and it’s yours.”

DeSalliers’ entire face twitched.

“You’ve only got two days before your loans default,” Kerry broke in. “If I were you, I’d just salvage what I could out of this.”

The man stared at her. “You don’t know shit.”

“Sure I do.” Kerry kept an even, almost kind tone. “It’s all in a database somewhere. You realized that, didn’t you? Public debt filings.”

DeSalliers snorted softly. “Yeah. That’s how you ruined your old man, isn’t it? Killed him, didn’t it?”

It was like taking a spear in the gut. Kerry only just clamped down on her emotions and somehow managed to keep her expression unchanged. “Yes, it is,” she answered. “I’d gladly do the same to you.”

Dar dealt with the realization that if she’d had a gun in her hand at that moment, she would have shot DeSalliers without a moment’s regret. “So, here’s the deal,” she repeated. “You show me Bud. You give me a transfer account, and I’ll transfer your skunk money. Then I give you your smoking gun, and you let Bud go.”

DeSalliers watched her from narrowed eyes. He remained silent for a minute, then very, very slowly, he nodded in agreement.

“How do I know you’ve got a smoking gun?”

“Because I say I do,” Dar told him. “You’re not worth lying to, and Wharton’s not worth lying for.”

The tall man’s head cocked slightly to one side. “Fucking amazing. We finally agree on something.” He walked over to the window, keeping them guessing as to what his answer would be.

“Tell me something first.” He turned. “What is your real percentage in this, Roberts?”

Leaning against a bulkhead, Dar ears picked up a soft clanking somewhere nearby. “I’ve already told you,” she said. “You just don’t believe me.”

“That you stumbled on this by accident?” DeSalliers laughed bitterly. “ You’re right. I don’t. He pointed at one of the guards.

“Bring the piece of scum up here.”

Kerry released the breath she was holding and wished for a Terrors of the High Seas 307

glass of water. Her insides were churning so badly, she felt like a washing machine. She forced herself to move slowly and casually, wandering back across the cabin to end up next to Dar again. Her eyes met her partner’s, and for a brief moment Dar’s mask dropped and Kerry saw sympathy and regret in the pale blue eyes watching her. Kerry tensed her lips in acceptance and patted Dar’s hip as she came to a halt beside her. So far, she decided, the plan seems to be working. She prayed to God it stayed that way.

ANDREW SLOWLY LIFTED his head above the edge of the hull and peered across it. It was empty. The guards had clustered on the stern, out of the storm, exactly what he’d been hoping for. With a light sniff, he released one of his grips and removed it, sticking it in its pouch and transferring his hand to the railing. He repeated the motion with the other one, then pulled himself up and over onto the deck.

He lay there a moment, listening and catching his breath.

“Ah’m too damn old to be doing this,” he muttered to himself. The deck remained silent, so he lifted himself up and snaked across the top of it to the two prominent hatches set in its center. Then he lay back down and examined the hatches.

With a soft grunt, he fished in a vest pocket and drew out a slim tool. He slipped the edge of it under the hatch and pried gently upward near the hinge, working the fiberglass cover back and forth.

With a soft crack, the hinge broke. Andy left it as it was and eased to the other side of the hatch, working on the next hinge point.

A soft creak sounded a warning, and he pressed his body against the hull and listened. Someone was coming along the railing toward the bow. Andrew cursed silently but remained very still, tensing his muscles as he watched the space between the cabin and the railing. A man wandered through it and leaned on the rail, watching the waves. Even after a few minutes, he didn’t seem inclined to move on. Andrew put his hands on the surface of the hull and pushed himself upward, getting silently to his feet and rising to his full height behind the man. He paced forward even with the roll of the boat until he was just behind his target.

The man had a rifle slung over his shoulder. Andrew studied him for a brief moment, then balled his hand into a fist and slugged the man in the back of the neck. With a soft choking sound, the guard’s knees buckled. Andrew stripped away the rifle and dropped it into the water, then debated throwing the man in after it. Wouldn’t have been the first time, by any means.

With a faint sigh, he dragged the man over to the edge of the bow instead, and laid him down on the curve. Then he went back to 308 Melissa Good the hatch and dropped down next to it, easing the edge up and peering underneath.

THE GUARDS DRAGGED Bud up to the edge of the steps that led to the cabins of the boat and held him in Dar’s view. Bud’s eyes were swollen shut and his face was covered in bruises. He didn’t appear to be conscious of what was going on around him.

“You’re a nice host.” Kerry kept her voice even.

DeSalliers laughed. “He probably enjoyed it. He’s the type.” He motioned to the guard. “Put him back until I call you again.” He seemed to be in a slightly better humor now. “Here’s the numbers.”

He handed Dar a slip of paper.

Dar was still gazing at the doorway, seeing the beaten form in her mind’s eye. She took the paper and stared at it. “Blood money.”

She took out her cell phone and accessed its web features.

DeSalliers watched her. “Must be killing you,” he taunted.

“Loser.”

Pale blue eyes fastened on him. Dar handed the paper back.

“It’s done. It’ll process when the banks open tomorrow.”

“You expect me to believe you?”

Dar shrugged. “DeSalliers, it’s pocket change,” she said. “It just means a bit more of your crap I have to clean off my shoes.”

“Pocket change?”

“Actually,” Kerry spoke up, having to say something to keep from throwing up, “it’s the budget for table mints for Dar’s outer office.” She paused thoughtfully. “For six months.”

DeSalliers looked at her, then looked back at the paper with a shake of his head.

The guard returned and leaned against the door, watching Dar and Kerry with scornful eyes.

DeSalliers crumpled up the paper and tossed it. “Enough bullshit. Hand it over.” He held out a hand towards Dar. “You’re polluting my boat and I want you off it, along with your disgusting faggot friend.”

Dar reached behind her and unzipped her pocket. She withdrew the folded piece of plastic and tossed it at DeSalliers almost casually, zinging it across the cabin and hitting him in the chest with it. “There,” she said. “Now get Bud up here, and we’ll be more than glad to vacate this shit hole.”

DeSalliers unfolded the plastic and leaned over to read it, bringing it to the light. “You can’t think I’d go for th…” He stopped speaking for a moment. Then he slowly looked up at Dar. “Well.”

He seemed a bit incredulous. “Imagine that. You told the truth.”

Dar felt extremely tired, and she wanted nothing more than to get Kerry, herself, Bud, and presumably her father off the damn Terrors of the High Seas 309

boat and out of that patch of water. “Yeah. So give me what I want and you can go crack a bottle of bad champagne over it.”

Their host folded the paper and put it into his pocket, patting it with one hand. Then he removed his cell and dialed a number.

“When I’m ready.” He smirked at Dar as he waited for the call to process. “I want a chance to savor having beaten you.”

Kerry let her hand rest against Dar’s back. It was almost over.

The tension had given her a migraine to compete with her already upset stomach, and she felt like walking over and kicking DeSalliers right in the shins.

“Wharton? DeSalliers here.” The man spoke briskly into the phone. “I’ve got your proof, right in my hand.” His eyes lifted and regarded Dar. “No, I got it out of her. No problem.”