I didn’t answer, but the sick feeling in my gut was growing. My gaze darted along the tree line. I couldn’t see or feel anyone approaching, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, getting a line on me with a rifle at this very moment.
I licked my lips, torn between the urge to run and the need to stay and help out. Running wouldn’t stop these murderers, and it certainly wouldn’t save Rainey’s soul.
And I had less than two days left.
I closed my eyes against the brief surge of panic, then said, “Why did Franco have it marked as un-cleansed on his wall map?”
“How else was he going to set the trap?” He shifted again. “Listen, lady, I’m being helpful here. You could at least make me more comfortable. Undo some ropes or something.”
“Sorry, but I’m not that stupid.”
He swore at me—long, loud, and inventively. I couldn’t help smiling. “An interesting combination of words, but it isn’t going to help. When did Franco contact you?”
“He didn’t actually contact me. He contacted Tomi.”
I rolled my eyes. No wonder no one knew who the head guy was—he was using too many intermediaries. “And Tomi is?”
“The guy who hires the rest of us.”
“So what time did this Tomi contact you?”
“About six thirty. It took us a while to collect everything we needed.”
Then it must have been Seth who’d contacted Tomi, not Leon, because by six thirty, Leon was well on his way to being dumped somewhere deep in the Pacific.
My gaze darted around, and again I saw nothing but darkness. But my unease was growing.
“So you’ve had no personal dealings with Franco—or anybody else?”
He shrugged. This time, the movement jerked the shoelaces against his neck, leaving a red mark. He glared at me balefully. “I heard some guy speaking on the phone a couple of times, when I was with Tomi.”
“Was it Franco?”
“No. Franco’s accent falls in and out. This guy’s didn’t.”
I had no idea what Hannish sounded like, but if he and Seth had known each other for a long time, it was possible that Seth was imitating Hannish’s accent. He’d always aspired to be more than he was.
“Ralph, what the hell are you doing out there?”
The voice was soft but clear. I jerked around, my heart racing and flames leaping across my fingertips before I realized the words were coming from the speaker at his ear. I glanced at my captive. “Who’s that?”
“The boss. Tomi.”
I picked up the speaker microphone. “I want you to answer him. Give me away—or even make me suspect you’ve given me away—and I will kill you.”
His gaze met mine. Judging. Weighing. I have no idea what he saw in my expression, but after a moment, he nodded. I pressed the switch and held the mike near his mouth.
“I’m investigating the engine noise, as ordered,” Ralph said.
“And?”
“Nothing. Must have been just the wind.”
“Then get your ass back into position. The muerte is on his way, apparently.”
“Will do.”
I released the switch, ripped the speaker mike apart, then tossed the separate pieces as far away as I could.