“Please, can you tell me what’s going on?” she asked.

“Shut the fuck up-that’s what’s going on.” Jazz made Michael take his cuff off the metal bar, then Jazz cuffed his hands behind his back.

“I’ll be back,” Michael said. “You just get some rest.”

She would have laughed if she’d had any control over her breathing. Or her heartbeat. It was all she could do not to beg Jazz to let him go, and when they left the room, slamming and locking the door behind them, she fell apart.

ED WAS STILL IN HIS big chair, but the dishes were gone. There were navigation charts on the table, two different cell phones, a laptop and a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket.

Ed looked up when Michael was pushed in front of his chair. “What was all that?”

“They were out of the cuffs.”

Ed’s gaze moved to Michael. “Really?”

“It’s a handy parlor trick.”

“I’ll remember that. Do you have the account number?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too soon. I need some time.”

“You don’t have time.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter if you have the account number. You can’t get the money without Tate. She has to be there in person to sign the papers or the bank won’t transfer that amount of money.”

Ed just stared at him. He didn’t move or frown or anything. “Jazz, uncuff him.”

Jazz seemed affronted by the idea, but the keys came out and Michael was soon rubbing his wrists.

“You go back in there and you make sure this lady is going to do everything we need her to do. If she doesn’t, we’ll kill Charlie. Then her. Then you.”

“TATE? CAN YOU HEAR me?”

Tate blinked as she pulled in an inadequate breath.

“I’m back. I said I would be back and I am. Can you look at me, Tate?”

It felt as if she were swimming up from the bottom of the ocean. There was light up there and warmth and safety, but it was so very far away.

“Come on, honey. You can do it. You’re all right. Nothing’s going to hurt you tonight. I’ll be here the whole time and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She jerked her hand again. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to get loose or if she just needed the pain to jar her out of her nightmare.

“Shit, you’re bleeding again. We need to get you to the bathroom so I can change the bandage.”

“Michael?”

“I’m right here, Tate.”

“They took you and I thought-”

“I know. But I promised-and I don’t break my promises.”

She focused. He was right next to her. The overhead lights were on, so she could see he wasn’t hurt. And he wasn’t cuffed. “What did you promise them?”

He sat back. “What?”

“What did you promise them? It’s okay. I know you had to tell them something or they would have killed you.”

“You’re right. I did. I needed to buy us some time.”

She could feel the real world become solid around her. The pace of her heart slowed, the tunnel vision expanded. It occurred to her that Michael had become her new safe place.

“I told them you have a numbered account in the Cayman Islands. That I was going to persuade you to give me the account number and that Martini would be able to transfer fifty million of your money into his account.”

She thought about what he’d said for a moment. She could see the logic. If they thought they could get that much money, her life became a lot more valuable. “Actually, you’re right. I do have a numbered account at the Grand Cayman Bank. But there’s no way he can make that transfer. Not if I don’t sign the papers in person.”

“I was right?”

She nodded. “I’m surprised you’re surprised. I figured a spy like you would know all about my finances.”

“I don’t know anything about them. It’s not germane. Well, it wasn’t until a few hours ago.”

“Is that going to botch the deal? The fact that I have to sign the papers?”

“No. In fact, I think it can work in our favor. I’m pretty sure they’re getting the ransom tonight. They’re not going to be reckless about it, either. There’s no way we’re getting off this boat just yet. But if Ed believes you have to sign, then we’ve got all the way to the island to perfect our escape.”

“I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I’m not that good a swimmer.”

“He’s going to have to get fuel, supplies. There will be opportunities.”

“I don’t know… Remember what Jazz said-there’s a big ocean and a lot of hungry fish.”

“The man who kidnapped you is Ed Martini. He’s one of the biggest bookies in the States. For fifty million dollars he’s not going to take any chances. You’ll be fine.”

“Until I sign the papers.”

“It won’t come to that.”

“I’d like to believe you.”

“I came back, didn’t I?”

She smiled. “Yes. You did.”

“What do you say we get that bandage changed.”

WILLIAM CHECKED HIS watch again as he drove slowly along the Sixty-fifth Street traverse. In a few minutes he would be at the carousel, and a few minutes after that he’d put the bag full of money in the red bin.

The drive in itself had been terrifying. He hadn’t been behind the wheel in four years, and that had been in England. It meant nothing. To get his daughter back he would have walked here on his hands.

He’d obeyed the kidnapper’s instructions to the letter, but after his discussion with Sara, he knew that someone from inside his organization had to be involved. He would deal with the incredible idiocy of the whole concept of fake kidnappings later. For now, he was looking at Michael Caulfield as the most likely traitor.

Sara’s conviction that he would never do anything to hurt Tate was simply another nail in his coffin. William had hired Caulfield because he was supposed to be the very best at what he did. But he hadn’t paid enough attention to why the man had been discharged. There was the whole unsavory business with the brother.

There was no question that he would get to the bottom of this. There was also no question that whoever had taken his daughter would pay with his life.

He had already passed the dark and shuttered Tavern on the Green. Everything was closed at this hour. However, the carousel was still illuminated. He would have preferred softer lights with some character to them, but these lamps weren’t to entrance, they were to scare off the drug users and the teenagers who looked for dark corners to get their thrills.

He had to get close to the red-crossed trash bin. Not because of the instructions but because five million dollars was heavy and he wasn’t a strong man. He wished he had followed his doctor’s advice about exercise.

None of it would matter if he didn’t get his girl back. He’d gone all these years with her safety as his vanguard. No matter where they’d traveled he’d spared no expense. Without Tate, he had nothing.

There it was. The only red-marked trash receptacle near the carousel. Though it was large, he’d have to work at getting the bag inside.

He parked the borrowed Cadillac. Stafford had wanted to drive it himself, but William had to do this alone. At least the Cadillac was easier to maneuver than his limousine. Once outside, he took the key to the trunk and lifted the lid. The gym bag was securely zipped. No casual passerby would think it contained blood money.

He took in a deep breath and hauled the bag up and over the rim of the trunk. Staggering as he walked the few steps to the marked bin, he had to rock his body so the bag would hit the opening.

After a moment to catch his breath, he shoved the bag into the bin until the whole thing fell. And fell.

He looked down, bracing his hands on the edge of the bin. There was no bottom. There was a trash-bin-size hole dug through the cement and the earth beneath. But all William could see was the end of his world.

WITH HER NEW BANDAGE and the comfort in knowing she wouldn’t have to be cuffed again at least for the rest of the night, Tate finished up in the bathroom, grateful there were guest toiletries, including a couple of toothbrushes still in their boxes. She wasn’t crazy about using the soap on her face, but as she washed she realized just how insane that was.