“I didn’t know,” he said helplessly. “By the time I realized what was going on I was in too deep to back out.”
“Oh, baby, of course you didn’t,” she said, her heart breaking. “You can turn state’s evidence—I can work something out . . .”
“I won’t make it that far,” he said with a trace of bitterness. “I’ll be dead before I get off the boat and you know it. The Committee is out there, and they don’t bother with due process.”
A chill rocketed through her. “Then we’ll have to get you out of here,” she said in a decisive voice.
Billy’s laugh was without humor. “Good old Sissy, always ready to save the world. There’s nothing you can do . . .”
She heard the hand on the doorknob, but Billy was even faster, diving behind a huge desk that took up most of the small room. Jenny tried to pull herself together in time to face the man who pushed open the door.
She knew it would be him, of course. The tall man with a gun even bigger than Billy’s, looking at her out of cold and dangerous eyes. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded roughly, and that gun was pointed at her chest.
She didn’t make the mistake of moving. She could feel the tension in the air, and everything narrowed down into one thing. She had to get this man and his gun away from her brother. It didn’t matter what Billy had done, he was still her baby brother, and she knew he hadn’t understood what he’d been doing. She certainly wasn’t going to watch him be gunned down in front of her eyes.
“I’m Jennifer Parker,” she said in as calm a voice as she could muster, trying to ignore the gun. “I’m a lawyer and a victims’ rights advocate. I get called in on cases like these.”
“Who called you?”
Shit. Should she lie? No, he was clearly the kind of man who checked the details. “No one. I heard the news on the police band on my car radio and decided I should show up and offer my help.”
“Alone in an empty cabin?” His voice was derisive. “So why did I get the impression that you were hiding out from someone?”
She glanced over at the desk and suddenly realized that Billy had left his damned cell phone on it. She strolled over, trying to look casual as she picked up the phone and shoved it in her pocket. She perched on the desk, trying to look natural, and swung her leg, ignoring her brother crouched down just behind her, with that lethal gun in his hand.
“You looked like you were going to shoot first and ask questions later,” she said, trying to appear at ease. “I’m here for the victims, not the enforcers.”
“You’re right, I would have.” He reached out and yanked her off the desk, ungently. “There are too many damned civilians here already, but since you’re here you may as well make yourself useful. They found one more victim hiding in the sick bay. You can talk to her and tell her we mean her no harm.”
“Is that true?”
“If she’s innocent. She’s not the one I’m looking for. I don’t expect you saw a young man in his early twenties around here?” The question came off as casual, but Jenny wasn’t fooled. She looked at the gun in his hand, then up into his face, and for a moment she froze, staring at him.
He was . . . mesmerizing. He was a tall man, six feet or so, with the kind of lean build that was deceptive in its strength. She didn’t for one moment underestimate just how dangerous he could be. His eyes were blue, not the bright blue of an innocent, but a steely feral blue, like a cold flame, and they should have been a warning. He wore his dark hair too long, as if he never had time to get it cut; he hadn’t bothered to shave in a couple of days, and his high cheekbones suggested some kind of exotic ancestry. With any other man she might find herself attracted to him, but not this man, not this threat to her brother. Not a man who would shoot first and ask questions later.
“I haven’t seen anyone.” The lie was instinctive, necessary, shameful.
“Then why were you skulking around?”
“I’ve seen three dead men since I came aboard, and you were standing there with a very large gun in your hand,” she said, keeping her expression blank. “I hadn’t seen anything to fill me with trust.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
She couldn’t agree more. “You’re right. Why don’t you take me to see this woman you’ve found, and I’ll see what I can do to help her. She must be shattere
d.” She had to get him out of this room, away from Billy.
He shrugged. “That’s not my worry. Jim Long can take you to where she’s waiting.”
Relief washed through her. “I know Jim—I’ve worked with him before. And you are . . . ?”
“None of your damned business,” he said succinctly, opening the door for her.
She didn’t hesitate. He must be part of the Committee that her brother had mentioned. She needed to give Billy a chance to escape. “I didn’t see Jim out there.”
“I’ll take you to him.”
“Perfect,” she said, meaning it.