Risky Business

wasn’t secured, so I wentover and fixed it. That’s when he grabbed me—from behind. He had his arm around my neck and a knife. He cut me a little.” In reflex, she reached up to touch the inch-long scratch her neighbor had already cleaned and fussed over. “I didn’t fight because he had the knife at my throat and I thought he would kill me. He was going to kill me.” She brought her head up to look directly into Moralas’s eyes. “I could hear it in his voice.”
    “What did he say to you, Miss Palmer?”
    “He said, ‘Where is it?’ I didn’t know what he wanted. I told him he could take my purse. He was choking me and he said, ‘Where did he put it?’ He said Sharpe.” This time she looked at Jonas. When she lifted her head, he saw that bruises were already forming on her throat. “He said the deal was off and he wanted the money. If I didn’t tell him where it was he’d kill me, and I wouldn’t die quickly, the way Jerry had. He didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know anything.” She spoke directly to Jonas. As she stared at him he felt the guilt rise.
    Patient, Moralas touched her arm to bring her attention back to him. “He let you go?”
    “No, he was going to kill me.” She said it dully, without fear, without passion. “I knew he would whether I told him anything or not, and my daughter—she needs me. I slumped as if I’d fainted, then I hit him. I think I hit him in the throat with my elbow. And I ran.”
    “Can you identify the man?”
    “I never saw him. I never looked.”
    “His voice.”
    “He spoke Spanish. I think he was short because his voice was right in my ear. I don’t know anything else. I don’t know anything about money or Jerry or anything else.” She looked back into her glass, abruptly terrified she would cry. “I want to go home.”
    “As soon as my men make certain it’s safe. You’ll have police protection, Miss Palmer. Rest here. I’ll come back for you and take you home.”
    She didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours since she’d fled through the front door. When Moralas took her back, it was dark with the moon just rising. An officer would remain outside in her driveway and all her doors and windows had been checked. Without a word, she went through the house into the kitchen.
    “She was lucky.” Moralas gave the living room another quick check. “Whoever attacked her was careless enough to be caught off guard.”
    “Did the neighbors see anything?” Jonas righted a table that had been overturned in flight. There was a conch shell on the floor that had cracked.
    “A few people noticed a blue compact outside the house late this afternoon. Señora Alderez saw it drive off when she opened the door to Miss Palmer, but she couldn’t identify the make or the plates. We will, of course, keep Miss Palmer under surveillance while we try to track it down.”
    “It doesn’t appear my brother’s killer’s left the island.”
    Moralas met Jonas’s gaze blandly. “Apparently whatever deal your brother was working on cost him his life. I don’t intend for it to cost Miss Palmer hers. I’ll drive you back to town.”
    “No. I’m staying.” Jonas examined the pale pink shell with the crack spreading down its length. He thought of the mark on Liz’s throat. “My brother involved her.” Carefully, he set the damaged shell down. “I can’t leave her alone.”
    “As you wish.” Moralas turned to go when Jonas stopped him.
    “Captain, you don’t still think the murderer’s hundreds of miles away.”
    Moralas touched the gun that hung at his side. “No, Mr. Sharpe, I don’t. Buenas noches. ”
    Jonas locked her door himself, then rechecked the windows before he went back to the kitchen. Liz was pouring her second cup of coffee. “That’ll keep you up.”
    Liz drank half a cup, staring at him. She felt nothing at the moment, no anger, no fear. “I thought you’d gone.”
    “No.” Without invitation, he found a mug and poured coffee for himself.
    “Why are you here?”
    He took a step closer, to run a fingertip gently down the mark on her throat. “Stupid question,” he murmured.
    She backed up, fighting to maintain the calm she’d clung to. If she lost control, it wouldn’t be in front of him, in front of anyone. “I want to be alone.”
    He saw her hands tremble before she locked them tighter on the cup. “You can’t always have what you want. I’ll bunk in your daughter’s room.”
    “No!” After