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“Who is Binelli?”
His expression hardened. “The innocent act won’t play this time. I may have bought it seven years ago, but I know better this time. Tell me, what are the chances of an innocent citizen’s name coming up twice in connection to the same type of crime?”
She remained in the shadows. “You think I’m smuggling again.”
“If you came here hoping to convince me you’re not laundering Binelli’s drug money, you’re wasting your breath.” He glanced out the window again.
“Laundering drug money? You’re wrong, Nick, about me, about my being involved with anyone named Binelli. As wrong as you were about everything seven years ago.”
He turned and faced her. “Do I need to remind you that your father’s prints were on the two remaining crates we found in the storeroom that morning, on the guns inside them?”
“Do I need to remind you that, except for the prints, except for the word of a weapons dealer who had previously perjured himself on the stand, the evidence was circumstantial? Photos of me and Dad with Aidan. He’d been a guest in our house for years. Not often, maybe, but he still stopped around to talk about old times, about flying. God, Nick, they grew up together.”
“On the streets of Belfast. Where they both lost family.”
“Dad hated war, violence of any kind.”
“Yet he welcomed a man with known terrorist connections into his home. Invited a man who supplied weapons that killed and maimed to sit at his table.”
“You sat there, too. He trusted you just as he did Aidan. Look how wrong he was about you. You betrayed the friendship in every conceivable way.”
“Are you suggesting he didn’t know about Aidan?”
She let out a sharp breath. “I don’t know. Maybe he did. Perhaps he turned a blind eye to Aidan’s connections. He never discussed Aidan with me. But my father can’t defend himself, can he? He never got the chance.”
“No, he didn’t. But does an innocent man hang himself? Leave a note admitting to a crime he didn’t commit? In that same note, exonerate his daughter? I’m sorry for what he did, but he was guilty.”
“And me? Because I didn’t hang myself. Does that mean I wasn’t guilty? Is that why you guys didn’t charge me?”
Nick rubbed his face. Had she been guilty then? Had she known what her father was doing? It was a question he’d wrestled with for the past seven years. And as far as the reason Kelly hadn’t been indicted, it had been a judgment call made by prosecutors. There had been no direct evidence linking Kelly to the guns. And they’d thought that selling nineteen-year-old Kelly as a desperate gun runner with connections to a terrorist organization to a jury would be a real uphill battle. One they might not win.
“Nick?”
“You’d do better to worry about the present, Kelly. If you want to talk, really talk, I’ll listen. I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”
“Just as you did in New Jersey?” She picked up the satchel from where she’d laid it on the bed, and then hesitated. In the dimness, he couldn’t read her eyes. “Maybe you’ve forgotten how it was, Nick. How you left me in that holding cell. How you walked away without ever once looking back.
“I had just watched my father be cut down from that rafter.” She took a deep breath, met his gaze again. “I thought I was in love with you back then. It was your arms I turned to, your arms I wanted locked around me. Until that moment, I trusted you. Even when I learned who you really were. What you were. I don’t think I’ll make the same mistake twice,” she offered and, without waiting, crossed to the door.
“Kelly?”
She stopped, her hand already on the knob.
“Be careful. Binelli plays by his own rules.” Nick didn’t know why he felt it necessary to offer the warning. Maybe because he knew the people she’d chosen to associate with, was worried she might not know the full extent of what they were capable of.
“I already got a taste of it tonight.” Turning, she unzipped her jacket, pulled it wide.
Confronted with the torn and bloodied blouse, Nick hauled her forward into the moonlight coming through the window. What he’d thought was a burn or scrape on the side of her neck, what she’d been careful to conceal from him by the hooded collar of her jacket, he now recognized as the work of a knife. Though it wasn’t, the cut in the area of her collarbone had bled enough to look serious. He didn’t miss the pattern some scum had drawn on her bra. All wounds easily concealed beneath clothing. Her attacker obviously had some practice at terrorizing women.
“Who did this?”
“We didn’t exactly get around to formal introductions.”
“Why did it happen?”
“Why? Because Binelli thinks I have something that belongs to him?”
Kelly stepped free of his grasp, rezipped the jacket as he moved back half a step. “I don’t suppose it matters that I have never set eyes on Binelli.”
“And that’s why some of Binelli’s muscle messed you up? Because you don’t know the man?”
“If I knew what was going on, I wouldn’t have wasted my time coming here, would I?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, his tone hard-edged. “With your back plastered to the wall, I might look like your best hope.”
Something, maybe indecision about his next move, made him look out the window at that moment.
A man sprinted across the lawn. A second followed.
Busy watching the two, he hadn’t seen Kelly reaching for the door again until it was almost too late. He grabbed her before she could get it open. “Don’t go out there. You’re safer with me. For now.”
She tried to shake free of his hold, but he only tightened his grip on her upper arm. “Damn it! Listen to me. There are two men outside watching the room next door.”
“I don’t think I was followed. I was careful.”
“Which means it’s me they’re after.”
“Why would they be after you?”
“Doesn’t really matter, does it? The outcome will be the same. For both of us.”
“I was warned not to contact you or the police.”
He stared outside again. “So why did you come to me, Kelly, and not the police?”
“The police wouldn’t be able to protect me, not against someone like Binelli. And they’d only have questions. You, on the other hand, have answers.”
“None you’ll like.” He pushed her back into the shadows next to the wall, out of harm’s way, then flicked off the automatic’s safety.
“Hell of a first night of vacation, don’t you think?” he added as he took up a position next to the window.
Nick watched the shadows of two men sweep past. He didn’t question the decision to take Kelly along, told himself it was because she just might be able to provide him with some of the answers he needed. But he knew better.
“How did you get here?” he asked.
“Boat.”
Nick eased forward and, as he watched, one of the men rolled around in a smooth, practiced motion and kicked in the door to the adjoining room. Furniture thudded and banged. Nick’s attention shot to the connecting door between the two rooms as a solid blow landed against it.
He checked back outside to where the second man stood guard. He needed him to follow his partner inside. Otherwise, they were as good as trapped.