Risky Business

afraid it would revolve and revolve around them, smothering everything else. She saw Jonas, a man of the law, a man of patience and compassion, shackled forever within the results of his own violence. How could she save him from that and still save herself?
    Her hand was cold as she reached for the door and opened it to meet him. He knew there was something wrong before he touched her. “What are you doing home? I went by the shop and it was closed.”
    “Jonas.” She did the only thing she knew how. She drew him against her and held on. “Moralas is on his way here.”
    “What happened?” A little skip of panic ran through him before he could stop it. He held her away, searching her face. “Did something happen to you? Were you hurt?”
    “No, I’m not hurt. Come in and sit down.”
    “Liz, I want to know what happened.”
    She heard the sound of a second engine and looked down the street to see the unmarked car. “Moralas is here,” she murmured. “Come inside, Jonas. I’d rather go through this only once.”
    There was really no decision to be made, Liz told herself as she moved away from the door to wait. She would give Moralas and Jonas the name of the man who had approached her. She would tell them exactly what he’d said. By doing so she would take herself one step further away from the investigation. They would have a name, a face, a location. They would have motive. It was what the police wanted, it was what she wanted. She glanced at Jonas as Moralas came up the front walk. It was what Jonas wanted. What he needed. And by giving it to him, she would take herself one step further way from him.
    “Miss Palmer.” Moralas took off his hat as he entered, glanced briefly at Jonas and waited.
    “Captain.” She stood by a chair but didn’t sit. “I have some information for you. There’s an American, a man named Scott Trydent. Less than an hour ago he offered me five thousand dollars to smuggle cocaine off the reef of Isla Mujeres.”
    Moralas’s expression remained impassive. He tucked his hat under his arm. “And have you had previous dealings with this man?”
    “He joined one of my diving classes. He was friendly. Today he came by the shop to talk to me. Apparently he believed thatI…” She trailed off to look at Jonas. He stood very still and very quiet just inside the door. “He thought that Jerry had told me about the operation. He’d found out about the safe-deposit box. I don’t know how. It was as though he knew every move I’ve made for weeks.” As her nerves began to fray, she dragged a hand through her hair. “He told me that I could take over Jerry’s position, make the exchange in the caves near Isla Mujeres and be rich. He knows…” She had to swallow to keep her voice from trembling. “He knows about my daughter.”
    “You would identify him?”
    “Yes. I don’t know if he killed Jerry Sharpe.” Her gaze shifted to Jonas again and pleaded. “I don’t know, but I could identify him.”
    Moralas watched the exchange before crossing the room. “Please sit down, Miss Palmer.”
    “You’ll arrest him?” She wanted Jonas to say something, anything, but he continued to stand in silence. “He’s part of the cocaine ring. He knows about Jerry’s Sharpe’s murder. You have to arrest him.”
    “Miss Palmer.” Moralas urged her down on the sofa, then sat beside her. “We have names. We have faces. The smuggling ring currently operating in the Yucatan Peninsula is under investigation by both the Mexican and the American governments. The names you and Mr. Sharpe have given me are not unfamiliar. But there is one we don’t have. The person who organizes, the person who undoubtedly ordered the murder of Jerry Sharpe. This is the name we need. Without it, the arrest of couriers, of salesmen, is nothing. We need this name, Miss Palmer. And we need proof.”
    “I don’t understand. You mean you’re just going to let Trydent go? He’ll just find someone else to make the drops.”
    “It won’t be necessary for him to look elsewhere if you agree.”
    “No.” Before Liz could take in Moralas’s words, Jonas wasbreaking in. He said it quietly, so quietly that chills began to race up and down her spine. He took out a cigarette. His hands were rock steady. Taking his time, he flicked his lighter and drew until the tip glowed red. He blew out a stream of smoke and locked his gaze on Moralas. “You can go to hell.”
    “Miss Palmer has the privilege to tell me