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“I’ll get off you,” Mack said, “but there’s no ‘might’ about it. You’ll tell us.”

“Okay, okay,” Willis muttered. Mack pulled away with a lithe, fast motion that kept him deftly out of reach. He ended up sitting back on the floor, a gun trained directly on Willis’s groin as the mercenary’s hand was halfway to his own gun.

“I wouldn’t try it if I were you,” Mack said affably. “I told you, I’m getting impatient, and I certainly wouldn’t mind shooting you. So move your hand away from that gun and tell us what the hell is going on.”

“Maybe he should toss the gun in the middle of the room,” Maggie suggested.

“No, I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Mack drawled. “Willis may be pissed as hell at me, but I don’t think he really wants to kill us. That’s right, isn’t it, friend?”

Willis was still looking ripe for murder, but he gave himself a little shake and came up with that snarling grin of his. “No, I’m not going to kill you. I won’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but there’s no money in it. And there’s a fuck of a lot of money in keeping you alive.”

“Explain,” said Maggie.

Willis shrugged. “You know Van Zandt as well as I do, Maggie. He said if you made it this far you were to meet him in Zurich on the twenty-third.”

“He’s out of his mind,” said Maggie.

“Maybe. You’ll have a helluva time getting from the mountains of Honduras to the mountains of Switzerland, I know that much. I don’t think Van Zandt took that into account. He just said meet him there, and he’ll have the answers.”

“Forget it,” Mack said. “We’ve been on enough of a wild-goose chase as it is. We’re not going halfway around the world chasing after someone who may or may not be able to help us.”

“Oh, Van Zandt will be able to help you,” Willis said. “Make no mistake about that. He’s got the Mafia in his back pocket, he can get the Feds off your back, and these greasers’ll believe anything he tells ’em. One word from him and you’ll be a free man.”

“Then why hasn’t he given that one word?” Maggie cried. “Peter Wallace would still be alive if Van Zandt weren’t so damned mysterious. If he’d only—”

“I don’t think Wallace would still be alive, Maggie,” Mack said suddenly.

“What do you mean?”

“Ask Willis. He knows what I’m talking about, don’t you, friend?”

Willis grinned. “Not as sharp as usual, Maggie. Van Zandt killed Wallace.”

“What?” she shrieked.

“I thought he might have,” Mack said. “But since you didn’t mention the possibility I decided to keep it to myself. Wallace said Van Zandt’s name as he was dying. At first I thought he was mixing us up. You thought he was sending us to find him. Later it came to me that Wallace was naming his murderer.”

“For God’s sake, why?” she demanded, completely confused.

Willis shrugged. “Van Zandt’s like me—he likes to tie up loose ends. He’s into something more than you think, and it’s my guess that Wallace found out about it. So Van Zandt had to take him out.”

Maggie shivered in the hot night air. “And what makes you think he won’t do the same to us once we get to Switzerland?”

“He might,” Willis allowed. “But he could have paid me to do it easily enough and saved a lot of trouble. Hell, I might have done it on the cuff, as a gesture of goodwill. He knows I owe him one. But he told me I was to do what I could to keep you alive. So he must have a reason, a use for you.”

“We could go to the government. …”

“They won’t believe you, Maggie. Van Zandt’s got them so confused they’ll believe anything he tells them. He’s got everybody running around in circles, you included, and your only chance is to play the game and hope you can win.”

“No more games,” Mack said in a flat voice. “We’re not going to Switzerland, we’re not going to meet with Van Zandt. It’s over.”

“The hell it is,” Maggie said.

Willis appeared greatly amused. “Sounds like you two are going to have a restful night of it. I’m betting on you, Maggie.” He rose, wiped away the trickle of blood from his neck, and gestured to the cowering Consuela, who’d sat in the kitchen during the last hour staring down at her lap. “We’re out of here tomorrow morning. If I were you, I’d make my plans before then.”

“If we were going to get to Switzerland, Willis, how would we go?” Maggie inquired.

“La Ceiba’s the only international airport. You could get a shorter flight from Danli, then fly back to a major city in the U.S. That is if your friend dares show his face. Van Zandt’s got a lot of people stirred up, looking for you, and I don’t know if their orders are to let you be or shut you up.” He turned and spoke to Consuela, and she jumped up nervously, wringing her long, beautiful hands. “Buenas noches,” he said. “I may see you tomorrow, I may not. If I don’t, give Van Zandt a kick in the ass for me.”


Tags: Anne Stuart Maggie Bennett Suspense