Sweet Fortune

minutes.”
    Jessie nodded, already beginning to shiver violently. “My God, I'm cold.” She grabbed the blanket, pulled it around her, and started to strip off her jeans underneath it.
    “Hey, goddammit, help me,” Bright shouted from the water. When no one responded, he struck out for shore.
    The splashing caught Hatch's attention. “David, untie the boat. Keep it between Bright and the shore. I want to talk to him.”
    David's brows rose but he said nothing. He and Alex quickly untied the boat and let it drift gently between Bright and the shoreline, blocking escape from the bone-chilling water.
    “Goddammit, you can't do this,” Bright yelled, floundering desperately. “Get me out of here. I'll freeze.”
    Hatch planted both hands on the hull and looked down at Bright. “Actually, that's not a bad idea.”
    “Are you crazy? You'll be killing me. People die of hypothermia out here all the time,” Bright screamed.
    “He's right,” Jessie observed. “It's amazing how fast hypothermia sets in. A few minutes in this water followed by a few minutes standing around in the cold air and it's all over. He's been in that water several minutes already.”
    Hatch glanced at Alex. “Think he could make it safely back to the house on his own?”
    Alex frowned consideringly. “Doubt it. Ambient temperature is in the forties now, and it's a good twenty-, twentyfive-minute hike. He's been in that water long enough to start the hypothermic process. Yeah, I'd say getting back to the house on his own is starting to look real iffy.”
    “You can't do this,” Bright wailed in panic and despair.
    “Swim to shore,” Hatch told Bright. “I'll meet you there with a blanket. You tell me a few things I want to know and I'll let you have the blanket. Refuse to talk and I'll take my blanket and go home.”
    The threat was a virtual death sentence and everyone knew it, including Bright. He struck out for shore.
    Hatch took one of the blankets and vaulted out of the boat onto the rocks. “Wait here,” he said to the others.
    He did not hurry to the rescue. When he reached the shoreline, Bright was already out of the water, hugging himself as shudder after shudder went through him. He had lost his glasses in the fall overboard and he peered at Hatch with slitted eyes.
    “Give me that blanket,” Bright hissed.
    Hatch stopped a few feet away. “First you tell me a little bit about the operation.”
    Bright's eyes widened slightly. “What are you, some kind of pro? What happened to Hoffman and Landis, anyway?”
    “They're both out of the picture. Talk, Bright. You'll never make it back to the mansion alive without this blanket.”
    “Fuck off.”
    “Suit yourself.” Hatch turned and started back toward the boat.
    “Wait, you bastard,” Bright said through chattering teeth. “You can't leave me like this.”
    Hatch glanced back over his shoulder. “I don't see why not.”
    “Shit. I could die out here.”
    “That's not my problem, is it?”
    Bright stared at him. “Dammit, what's going on? I know you're a pro. You must be. The girl's mother hire you?”
    “I'm just a businessman, Bright.”
    “Businessman, hell. Who are you, goddammit? Who hired you?”
    “You know that woman you were holding the gun on a few minutes ago?”
    “What about her?” Bright snarled.
    “You might say I did it for her. She's the lady I'm going to marry.”
    “Shit.”
    “Now you probably have a clearer understanding of why I don't have any real ethical problem with the idea of you freezing to death out here.” Hatch turned and started once more toward the boat.
    “Stop, goddammit, I'm coming with you.” Bright staggered forward. “You've got to take me with you. I don't think I can make it back to the house. I'm freezing.”
    Hatch paused, thoughtful. Then he shook his head. “No, I don't think it's worth taking you with us. If I thought you might talk to the authorities, I'd say yes, but something tells me you won't say a word.”
    “I said wait, you bastard. I'll talk.” Bright was clearly desperate now.
    Hatch dangled the blanket in front of him. “Prove it. Tell me something real interesting.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like which offshore bank you're using. Tell me where the money goes. Explain how you divert it. Little things like that. Convince me. And then show me something that looks like proof.”
    Edwin Bright glowered sullenly at him in the moonlight. And then another racking shudder went through him. Without a